Cook-a-thon with Stinky: Clafoutis aux poires déchirés (with bonus toad-in-the-hole appendix coming

[stinkyattic]

Okey dokey, smokies.

Here's an obscure one. When Americans (bless our hearts) think of custards, they tend to be a mouthy dense substance meant to be poured into a pastry crust. It's not... wrong... but there's a better, more delicate, and frankly much easier way to get your custard fix, with no pastry crust involved.

Enter the Drunken Pear Clafoutis. This is an original recipe based on hints from multiple sources, my own baking chops (disclaimer: I hate baking) and memories of this dessert my mom used to make before she discovered health food.

In my entire library of vintage and classic cookbooks, I found exactly TWO references to clafoutis, period. One was in the Larousse, because of course it was. One was in an obscure out of print southern French mass market cookbook. Escoffier apparently has no opinion on the subject. Nor does Jacques Pepin, Pierre Franey, James Beard, or the entire creative staff of the Silver Palate. The Playboy Gourmet, similarly, was a desert. What a disappointment. This dish is both sumptuous and sensual.

Let's get baking!

 

[stinkyattic]

You're gonna need a large flat baking dish with straight sides. I used a traditional 12" quiche pan that is about 1-1/2" deep and was ideal for the amounts I'm going to throw at you. If you calculate that surface area just try to match it for a 1" deep finished product to make the cooking times line up.

Most of this stuff you have in your house already, but go pick up 3 pears and a nip of cheap brandy. Cut them up into tidy slices 1/4" thick, and throw them in the brandy right away to get déchiré (Wasted destroyed drunk).

Crack 4 large eggs into a batter bowl and add 4 heaping Asian soup spoons of flour. IDGAF if this is an "official" unit of measurement; it is now, and it's no less valid than a cubit.

Add some fresh ground black pepper and nutmeg, not too crazy. Ok go crazy they're both a huge boost to the flavor.

Throw in a pinch of salt for luck.

Now add some mixture of milk and cream (I used half n half) and just drizzle it in while whisking until it gets to the consistency of pancake batter with no serious lumps. LEAVE IT BE FOR A BIT.

Go roast one and wait for the bubbles to come out or your clafoutis will become a souffle more than it already intends to, which is already too much, you'll see.

When you're good n toasty, come back and drizzle in some more half n half, whisking again but nothing crazy, til it gets to the thickness of latex paint that isn't Behr. Think like, Benjamin Moore quality paint. Thicc.

Butter the everloving heck out of your baking dish and then pour 2/3 of the batter in it. NOT ALL OF IT. Yes this is weird. Yes it serves a purpose.

 

[stinkyattic]

Put the dish on the furthest rack of the oven from the heat and bake it at 350 for about 8 minutes or until it is not sloshing around. Take it out and put it on the stove or a pile of kitchen towels. It should look like this. Actually this one is a tad overcooked. But not a disaster.

 

[stinkyattic]

Meanwhile drain all the brandy and pear juice put of the pears and put them (the boozy juices not the pears) in a little pan with a 1" cube of butter. Preferably salted but it doesn't matter. Heck, bacon or duck fat would both be amazing in this. Totally head spinningly WRONG, but delicious; screw the clafoutis purists who can't even be bothered to add it to their Very Important Cooking Tomes because it's peasant party food, and bas-cuisine wasn't cool until the hipsters discovered it c.2016.
Anyway, gently melt the butter pear juice brandy thing and keep it warm.

Arrange the pears around the dish, on top of the undercooked custard, leaving some space around the edge. Pour the rest of the batter over it, shake it to settle evenly, then drizzle the buttery hot pear brandy all over the top. Sprinkle with a bit of granulated sugar, the coarser the better.

Stick it back in the oven this time on the top shelf and give it a half hour at 350.

You see that greasy mess on top?

Embrace la beurre.

 

[stinkyattic]

This thing thinks it's a souffle or a Yorkshire pudding

Turn off the oven, leave the door cracked, and go put out your finest Chinet.

 

[stinkyattic]

When it deflates, you're done.

Voila!

Go dig in. It's amazing.

Eat the whole thing whole it's still warm because it turns into a rubbery abomination when cooled.

4 servings each contain one egg, half a pear, and a few tablespoons of flour and cream. For two people, this whole dish is a hearty but delicate dinner.

It's gone now. Paired (peared?) nicely with a dry red blend.

Bonus, if you buttered the dish well enough, it's already 99% clean with nothing but a bit of grease to scrub off lol

 

[stinkyattic]

Bonus round!

For a delicate version of toad-in-the-hole, make the following changes:

Substitute pear slices out for chunks of browned plain sausage and their rendered grease.

Substitute brandy out with an equivalent amount of ale, extra points if you add strong beef stock in place of the pear juice.

Everything else is identical. You can get crazy and use lard instead of butter, which is arguably fine in the clafoutis too.

Bone apple t*ts!!!

Edit: obviously skip the sugar. Ok maybe a pinch.

 

[Daxtell]

I'm questioning why I even look at your food ****.

I do like rubbery glop food though. It's a textural acquired taste. My foam rubber food fetish started by buying an angel food cake, not having directions, so I baked it like a regular cake. Chewy.

 

[stinkyattic]

Hahaha! Have you ever encountered a product called sauce-n-cake? Its... special. You might find it strangely comforting...

 

[stinkyattic]

So the Yorkshire pudding connection occurred to me halfway through baking and hear me out.

This dish is old French peasant food from the way-back times. There's no way it DOESN'T predate the Norman conquest. Eggs, milk, flour, fat, random fruit in season. Villager stuff. You know, villagers who were given a pointy stick and told to go stab that guy Harold because Guillame wanted more acreage and going east wasn't going to be so simple.

There's also no way that it didn't travel to the Isles in 1066, to be reborn with a more savory flair.

In this essay I will

 

[hollowpoint]

Beautiful job SA...not a lot of dessert dishes work with pears...down here in the South peaches tend to be King...unfortunately I am not that much on peaches. We had a big pear tree in our yard growing up and I grew to like them from it I guess...a local morning treat would be pear preserves on a warm biscuit...drizzled with cows cream.

 

[stinkyattic]

Point you can grow so much stuff down there it makes me jealous! Traditionally this is pears (poire) or black cherries (cerises) but peaches (pêches, same word for sin actually lolol) appear sometimes, as do apricots (no clue?). Pretty much any fruit that will caramelize at 350 in about a half hour. So no melons. Bananas would be interesting with rum not brandy and ginger and allspice instead of nutmeg. I hate bananas. Slimy things, no thanks dude. But could be a fun twist for any yellow tree d*ck fans out there. (Google that it's a supermarket approved name for bananas)
Breakfast sounds amazing. Pear preserves are so hard to come by.