By February 2027. One month until Ethan's wedding and six weeks until the rehearsal dinner that I've been planning for almost a year. The kitchen has been the staging ground for every test batch, every timing calculation, every conversation with Mason about the bread and with Olivia about the salad and with Noah about how to carry things without dropping them, which is a more important skill than cooking when you're serving for forty.
Valentine's Day this week. Gary brought tulips again, his second year with tulips, which means it's becoming a tradition. I find this deeply endearing — that after twenty-one years he's still building new traditions, still deciding that tulips in February is better than roses, still adjusting. Some people coast on existing patterns after a long marriage. He keeps adding new ones. It's one of the things I love about him. I told him that this year, which I don't always say out loud. He looked a little surprised and a lot pleased.
The channel is at 620,000. The second book continues to sell steadily — it's been two years and it's still moving. The third book galleys go to me next month and I'll do the final read before the October publication. That will be the last book for a while. I can feel the space opening up after it, the possible fourth book that Noah partly designed, the curriculum work that continues, the workshops that need attention. I'm not tired. I'm clearing ground for the next thing.
There’s something about Gary choosing tulips two years in a row — quietly deciding that’s his February tradition now — that made me want to meet him at that same level of intentionality in the kitchen. I said the thing out loud this year, the thing I don’t always say, and it felt right to follow it with something genuinely indulgent rather than practical. With the rehearsal dinner prep consuming most of my cooking brain lately, I needed a recipe that was rich and celebratory and asked nothing of me strategically — just warmth, chocolate, and the kind of dessert you make because the moment deserves it.
Ultimate Chocolate Bread Pudding
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 loaf (about 1 lb) day-old brioche or French bread, cut into 1-inch cubes
- 2 cups whole milk
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 6 oz bittersweet chocolate (60–70% cacao), finely chopped
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar
- 4 large eggs
- 2 egg yolks
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened (for greasing the dish)
- Powdered sugar or whipped cream, for serving (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 325°F. Butter a 9x13-inch baking dish generously and spread the bread cubes in an even layer.
- Melt the chocolate. In a medium saucepan over medium-low heat, combine the milk, heavy cream, and chopped chocolate. Stir frequently until the chocolate is fully melted and the mixture is smooth. Remove from heat and let cool for 5 minutes.
- Make the custard. In a large bowl, whisk together the sugar, eggs, egg yolks, vanilla, and salt until smooth and slightly pale. Slowly pour the warm chocolate mixture into the egg mixture, whisking constantly to temper the eggs.
- Soak the bread. Pour the custard evenly over the bread cubes. Press the bread down gently with a spatula to help it absorb the liquid. Let soak for at least 15 minutes, pressing down occasionally.
- Bake. Place the baking dish in a larger roasting pan and pour hot water into the roasting pan until it reaches 1 inch up the sides of the baking dish (a water bath). Bake for 45–50 minutes, until the pudding is set at the edges but still has a slight jiggle in the center.
- Rest and serve. Remove from the water bath and let cool for at least 10 minutes before serving. Dust with powdered sugar or top with softly whipped cream if desired. Serve warm.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 480 | Protein: 11g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 55g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 310mg