When pudding refuses to cooperate, turn it into a silky, brown-sugar butterscotch ice cream — rich, forgiving, and more addictive than the pudding ever was.
Everyone needs a motto, an inspirational catchphrase or a daily affirmation and at least for the duration of this post, mine is going to have to be: when life gives you stupid, annoying pudding that never, ever sets, make ice cream. What? You don’t think it will work for t-shirts and taglines? I’m crushed.
But I have, indeed, come a long way from my late-February butterscotch pudding nadir. On the heels of the Valentines-timed chocolate pudding rave, it occurred to me that the world really needs more pudding recipes. They’re a great thing to master — not too difficult, not too heavy and total comfort food. And while some (cough mom cough) have defended the store mixes, it’s impossible to argue that boxed butterscotch pudding can match the one coaxed from brown sugar, vanilla and a hint of bourbon.
Alas, both recipes I tried conspired against me. The first, from the Joy of Cooking, never set — possibly because I was timid about cooking the cornstarch mixture long enough. The second, from Christopher Kimball’s Dessert Bible, produced a different disaster: pouring a pot of simmering mixture onto yolks turned them into unpleasant cooked curds. I followed the recipe too slavishly and paid the price.
Kimball’s version did have the best flavor, though, and even when it refused to set I couldn’t stop eating it. I strained away the curdled bits, chilled the mixture overnight and, still disappointed with the pudding outcome, fed it to the ice-cream maker. The result? A bright butterscotch ice cream that made me forgive the whole episode.
It turns out butterscotch ice cream is brilliant — so good I had to make it again the next week. A Sunset Magazine recipe I found online gave me a deliberately made butterscotch ice cream that finally matched my expectations. I’d argue plain butterscotch pudding secretly wants to be ice cream — the idea sounds odd until you taste it.
At-a-glance
Yield | Source |
|---|---|
About 1 quart | Adapted from Sunset Magazine |
Ingredients
Ingredient | Quantity / Notes |
|---|---|
Brown sugar (firmly packed) | 1 cup |
Butter | 2 tablespoons |
Vanilla | 1 tablespoon |
Bourbon (optional) | 2 teaspoons |
Whipping cream | 1½ cups (use ½ cup in step 1, 1 cup in step 2) |
Half-and-half (light cream) | 2 cups |
Large egg yolks | 6 |
(Makes roughly one quart) |
In a 1– to 2-quart pan over medium heat, stir the brown sugar and butter until the butter melts, the sugar dissolves and the mixture is bubbly, about 3–4 minutes. Whisk in 1/2 cup whipping cream until smooth, then remove the butterscotch mixture from the heat. Stir in the vanilla and bourbon, if using.
In a 3– to 4-quart pan over medium-high heat, combine the remaining 1 cup whipping cream with the half-and-half and bring to a simmer.
Meanwhile, beat the egg yolks in a bowl to blend. Whisk 1/2 cup of the hot cream mixture into the yolks to temper them, then pour the yolk mixture back into the pan with the cream. Stir constantly over low heat just until the custard slightly thickens, about 2–4 minutes. Remove immediately from the heat.
Strain the custard through a fine sieve into a clean bowl, then whisk in the butterscotch mixture. Chill until cold, stirring occasionally, about 2 hours; or cover and chill up to 1 day.
Freeze the chilled mixture in an ice-cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Serve soft-frozen, or transfer to an airtight container and freeze until firm, at least 6 hours and up to 1 week.
Tip |
|---|
Cook brown sugar and butter until bubbly (3–4 minutes), then add a little cream to loosen the caramel before mixing with custard. |
Temper the yolks slowly with warm cream to avoid curdling. |
Strain the custard before adding the butterscotch to ensure a smooth texture. |
Chill the custard thoroughly (2 hours or up to 1 day) before churning for best results. |
Freeze soft or firm: serve immediately for a soft texture, or freeze ≥6 hours to firm up. |
