Tiki Party: Three Dots and a Dash Tiki Drink

It’s tiki week! And the key to a good tiki party is, of course, the drinks! And the key element of a good tiki drink is RUM!

Boozin’ It Up

I like dessert. And I like booze. And I really like boozy desserts. For the record, I also really like saying “boozy desserts,” but I suppose “drunken desserts” also has a ring to it. I don’t know about you, but for me, the holidays are made for boozing, and for dessert. Last year I gave you the ooey, gooey, alcohol infused chocolate Kahlua cake. This year, just in time for Thanksgiving and family boozin’ (wait, you don’t booze with your fam at Thanksgiving?) I present to you…

Spiced custard. Nuts. Rum. What more do you need, people!? The answer is nothing…or whipped cream. Either of those answers is correct.

I made this dessert as a substitute for pumpkin pie. Ok, now people hate me… but it’s true: I could care less about pumpkin pie. It has a funny texture, it tastes boring, and it’s just not that exciting. Our Thanksgiving table will have pecan pie for sure (the best of all pies, in my opinion), pumpkin loaf—a delicious pumpkin-cake and cream cheese filling roll of delight (see, we’ll still have a pumpkin item on show)—and now… deliciously boozy little custards. Hey, I put pumpkin pie spice in them…doesn’t that count?

I suppose you could call this dessert pots de crème, because technically, that’s what it is. Little pots of cream, or custard, baked in a water bath, and chilled prior to serving. But when a big family Thanksgiving rolls around and you’re feeding a crowd that consists of teenage boys that like to hunt and play sports (and dads that like to hunt and watch sports) pots de crème (aka poh duh KREHM) might not be the most popular choice at the dessert table. That’s why I will be serving Spiced Custard Cups with Drunken Pecan Sauce. Sure, that name doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but at least you know what you’re getting. And everyone likes to hear that there’s booze in their dessert…right?

Spiced Custard Cups with Drunken Pecan Sauce
Serves 6-8

For the Custard Cups:

1 14 oz can sweetened condensed milk
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
1 cinnamon stick
A generous pinch of fresh ground nutmeg
3 egg yolks
2 whole eggs

Preheat oven to 350. Combine both milks in a saucepan and gently heat until slightly frothy. Turn to low and add cinnamon stick, pie spice, and nutmeg--steep for 3 minutes. Remove from heat and continue steeping for about 10 minutes, until milk is lukewarm. Remove cinnamon stick. Whisk together the eggs and yolks then whisk this into the milk mixture. Pour mixture into ramekins and place ramekins in a baking dish. Fill baking dish with water (be careful not to get water in ramekins) halfway up side of ramekin. Bake for 40-50 minutes, until solid but still slightly jiggly. Cool until set (overnight is best).

For the Pecan Rum Sauce:

1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup water
2 tablespoons dark rum
1 cinnamon stick
3/4 cups toasted pecans (whole and pieces)

Combine water, sugar, and cinnamon stick. Boil for 5 minutes, remove from heat. Remove cinnamon stick, and stir in rum. Add pecans. Cool and pour over cool custard cups. Chill overnight and serve with a dollop of whipped cream (if you're feelin' fancy).

The Cake that Keeps on Giving

Even though I love cooking, I've never been crazy about baking. I find baking to be too regimented... my cooking style is more organic- it evolves naturally, without strict recipes or instructions. I'm more of a little-of-this, little-of-that, taste-as-I-go-then-adjust kind of gal, using recipes as basic guidelines for over-arching flavor and technique ideas, rather than as step-by-step directions. Baking will go terribly, terribly wrong if certain ingredients are omitted, or if too much of this, or too little of that is added... This I learned when I was about 10 years old and Amanda and I tried to make brownies following a recipe in a 'cookbook program' on our fancy new computer. She mixed ingredients in the kitchen while I'll called out measurements from where the computer was perched in the living room. Math was never my forte, and apparently I had not learned fractions yet, because for every 1 and 1/2 cup, I called out to Amanda to add 1/2 cup, for every 1 and 3/4 cup, I instructed her to add 1/4... and so on. Needless to say, the brownies were flavorless balls of dense dough, and the cookbook program on the computer was never used again, replaced with the Spider-Man Cartoon Maker program and the game "You Don't Know Jack."


While I've overcome my fraction-dyslexia, I never did regain the desire to be the next oven mitt wielding, goodie-baking-Betty Crocker. Because of the strict rules of baking, I'm more of an occasion baker, only baking when a special event calls, or when I'm feeling particularly patient (which isn't often). Recently, however, I decided to try to expand my baking horizons.

A few months ago, I put on my apron, pulled out my measuring cups, and I baked a cake. Following directions VERY closely, I made a lovely Orange Polenta Cake, from Gourmet Magazine. With ground almonds and polenta in the batter, the cake had a crumbly yet moist texture, and a buttery delicious flavor. With a dash of orange flower water and a handful of orange zest adding a special zing, and an upside-down style sliced orange caramelized topping, I knew this cake was a winner.

With my confidence renewed, I decided to try the cake again, but this time I would make it my own. For the first time ever (chocolate chip cookies aside), I would improvise on a baked good. Excited and scared, I went forth on my baking experiment, fully prepared for any outcome. I followed the basic instructions for the batter. You know... the flour, eggs, butter, polenta, baking soda... all of the essentials. Then, things got crazy. Instead of orange flower water, I added dark rum and Mexican vanilla. In place of orange zest, I added shredded coconut and lime zest. I replaced the original orange caramel topping with a pineapple-caramel-macadamia nut topping. I popped my creation in the oven, crossed my fingers, and hoped for the best.

I shared the finished product with some girl friends. I topped the beautiful cake with flaked coconut and a curl of lime zest. I nervously awaited the first bite... hoping it would taste as wonderful at is looked.

It must have... because five girls and less than five minutes later, the cake was demolished. Every last crumb. It was buttery and rummy, gooey on top, moist and crumbly in the middle.

Although delicious, the flavor was not as tropical as I had hoped, I think it needed more coconut, possibly even a splash of coconut milk. I have a feeling that I'll be making this cake again... and again and again. Maybe next time I'll add that extra coconut and throw in some ginger... or maybe I'll improvise with figs and brandy, or lemon and lavender? I learned that with this cake, the possibilities are endless, and that with a really good base recipe (and a little bit of patience), baking doesn't have to be tedious or disastrous.