Earl Grey Panna Cotta

I passed my final NP certification exam Wednesday. The national boards. I sat for it in Boston at the testing center. The exam was six hours. I passed. I am, effective immediately upon my paperwork filing, a certified nurse practitioner, AGPCNP-BC. I have been working toward this since September. I finished it this week because Sean asked me to.

I told Sean Wednesday night. He was in the hospital bed in the living room — we had it set up Tuesday morning when the hospice team came. He was tired but lucid. He smiled when I told him. He said "I married a nurse practitioner." I said "you married a Southie girl who does not quit." He said "same thing, Kate." I laughed. He laughed — a small one, because full laughs hurt his head now, but real. I climbed onto the bed next to him. I sat against him. He put his arm around me. He said "I am proud of you." I said "Sean. I would not have done this without you." He said "yes you would have. You are you." He said "you did it with me. But you would have done it without me." I said "I love you." He said "I love you more." We did the joke.

Hospice is set up. The team came Tuesday. The nurse is a woman named Lucia. She is about my age. She has been doing this for fifteen years. She is excellent. She explained the care plan. She explained what they do, what we do, what to expect, what symptoms to watch for, who to call. She said she would visit every two to three days at first and more often as needed. She said the team would include an aide who could come help with bathing when needed. She said "I am here for both of you, Sean and Kate. I am here for the whole family." She said it in the way that people who have done this work right for fifteen years say it. Not performative. Real.

I had asked for a hospital bed in the living room because Sean had said he wanted to be in the middle of the house, not upstairs, not isolated. The living room has the best light. It has the view of the yard. It is where the kids are most of the day. The bed came Tuesday. We moved the couch. We set up the bed facing the window. Sean got in Tuesday afternoon. He has been there since. He prefers it. He can see us. He can see the garden (my garden is already in — I had planted it two weeks ago out of determined routine). He can see Linda's house. He can see the yard. Nora comes and climbs up on the bed and plays next to him with her sheep. Liam comes and lies next to him for a while.

We told the kids Tuesday night. We told them simply. I said "Daddy is going to stop the medicines now. His sickness is going to get stronger. At some point, Daddy is not going to be here with us anymore. That is going to be very sad. But right now, Daddy is here. We are going to be together. We are going to cuddle. We are going to say the things we want to say. And when Daddy has to go, we will all be here, and we will love each other, and we will be okay." Liam cried. Nora did not. Nora said "okay, Mommy." Liam crawled into Sean's bed and stayed there for two hours. Nora played on the floor with her sheep. Different children. Different ways.

The week I passed my boards and brought Sean home on hospice, I did not want to cook anything hard. I needed something that asked almost nothing of me but gave something back — something quiet and soft, something that could sit in the refrigerator and be ready when I was. I had Earl Grey in the cabinet and cream, and I remembered this panna cotta I had made once before when I needed to feel like I was taking care of something small and beautiful. It felt right. Soft foods, light things — that is where we are now, and there is no shame in that.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 20 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 cups heavy cream
1/4 cup whole milk
3 Earl Grey tea bags
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 1/4 teaspoons unflavored powdered gelatin
2 tablespoons cold water
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Pinch of fine sea salt
Fresh berries or a light honey drizzle, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Bloom the gelatin. In a small bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over the cold water. Let it sit undisturbed for 5 minutes until it absorbs the water and becomes spongy.
Steep the tea. Combine the heavy cream, milk, and sugar in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Stir gently until the sugar dissolves. Add the Earl Grey tea bags and bring the mixture just to a gentle simmer — do not boil. Remove from heat, cover, and steep for 8 minutes.
Finish the base. Remove and discard the tea bags, squeezing them gently against the side of the pan to release all the flavor. Return the saucepan to low heat. Add the bloomed gelatin and stir until it is fully dissolved, about 1 to 2 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla extract and salt.
Pour and chill. Divide the mixture evenly among four 6-ounce ramekins or small glasses. Let cool to room temperature, then cover loosely with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight, until fully set.
Serve. Serve the panna cotta directly in the ramekins, or run a thin knife around the edge of each ramekin and unmold onto a small plate. Top with fresh berries or a light drizzle of honey if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Earl Grey Panna Cotta — Something Soft for the Week Everything Changed