Halfway There: Lemon, Yogurt, and Almond Custard Pots

-I AM so lucky!-

Done, done, done.

So done.

A finished draft of the book with all its pictures, appendices, intros, and recipes tested by over 85 people has been turned into our editor at Little, Brown & Company. All 409 pages of it.

Four. Hundred. And. Nine. Pages.

So excuse me if my posting has been a little, short as of late. It's just, you know, 409 pages. The last two weeks I have done nothing but read-tinker-edit-futz-delete-edit-again-add-change-and-putz-with those 409 pages. I can recite whole recipes and headnotes to you from memory.

If we were to take an MRI of my brain all that grey matter would somehow resemble elbow macaroni and globs of melted cheese.

*oof*

-An MRI of my heart just shows cardiac arrest waiting to happen after all that cheese.-

So I'm taking a break for a little bit while my editor goes at my hand-scripted mac-child with a red pen and scribbles all over it's little face. I love cheese. I love pasta. I love writing.

But I need a tiny break.

You all know what I'm talking about, right? You can love something. A person, a place, a hobby, a job, whatever... and as much as you adore it and want to tuck in bed and kiss it on the forehead sometimes, just every so often, you just want to shake it like a maraca and scream that you just need some freakin' space. Right?

Please tell me it's not just me. If so, then I am a terrible person and author because let me tell you I shook that book like a British nanny. All that cheese? I took it to work for other people to eat. I need something where I don't have to make a mornay.

-Some serious First World Problems right here.-

So here we go. Custard. With lemon zest, and yogurt, and vanilla beans because doesn't not mac and cheese sound so good? Doesn't NOT writing about aged dairy and carbs sound so delightful? Chilled custard enjoyed while wrapped in a knit blanket on a not as cold as it should be day?

It does! Admit it. Custard. Yes. Want.

This recipe is - essentially - the Meyer lemon custard pots from Aran Goyoaga's new book, Small Plates & Sweet Treats. Aran and I actually have the same editor so it's lovely to see the kind of quality product that Melt will someday be. The book is delightful. The recipes work. The writing is a peak into Aran's enviably stylish, Basque-chic, ex-pat life. The photos take you to her dinner table where only amazing things happen and where it smells of cinnamon and chorizo.

I have no complaints. I highly recommend it. Not because my editor sent me a copy. Not because Aran is my friend. I encourage you to get a copy because it's a high quality book with recipes you won't just want to make but will actually be inspired to go to the store, buy the ingredients, and get in your home to cook them. (I have made six dishes from the book already and I am a better, fuller person for it.) Inspiration to want and inspiration to DO are two very different things. Small Plates & Sweet Treats does the latter.

Anyways, when the editor is done then I get the book back to check their edits, then copyediting, design, cover design, indexing, bundling, checks galore, and then off to printing. Then in October 2013, the book is ready. Oof.

I'mma go eat 'muh custard now.

Lemon, Yogurt, and Almond Custards
Serves 4-5

1/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
4 eggs
1/2 cup almond flour
1 cup whole-milk yogurt
1 cup coconut milk
1/4 cup lemon juice
1/4 cup chopped almond or pistachios
powdered sugar for garnish

1. Preheat oven to 325F. Pinch together the zest and sugar to release the zest's oils. Whisk in the eggs, almond flour, yogurt, and lemon juice.

2. Pour into ramekins (I used canning jars) and place into a baking dish. Place the baking pan in the oven. Fill the pan with hot water so that it reaches half way up the ramekins. Bake for 30 minutes.

3. Remove custards from water bath and cool on a wire rack. Allow to come to room temperature and then chill in the fridge. Serve with almonds and a dusting of powdered sugar.