My favorite breakfast in the world is French toast. Ideally, that means stale bread soaked in just eggs and milk and fried on a griddle with butter. Then, of course, smothered in syrup. But today I decided I didn't have time to wrestle with golden syrup, the only stuff I have, so I went the sugary vanilla French toast route.
But that's not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about the cold, smooth, firm custard, dusted with nutmeg, that Miss Craig brought our family every time we were sick. That could easily be my favorite dessert in the whole world. The nostalgia and comfort-food factors rocket it up above more sophisticated cakes and mousses on my list, and I have always regretted not being able to make it just right myself.
Well maybe this isn't "just right," but it's closer than any water-bath has gotten me yet.
After I'd made enough French toast this morning, I had just the right amount of egg mixture leftover to fit into a small oven-/microwave-safe ramekin, the same kind of service Miss Craig used for her custards. A (brilliant) thought occurred to me. I've been microwaving eggs for the last few months as a mid-morning protein snack with minimal cleanup requirement, so why wouldn't I microwave this? The milk would stabilize it, I imagined; my microwaved eggs are very touchy-feely about the amount of time and power they get. (Usually I drastically overcook them.)
So into the ramekin went equal parts beaten eggs and milk, a handful of castor sugar, a dash of vanilla, and a sprinkling of nutmeg. Into the microwave went the ramekin, for 2 minutes and 30 seconds at power level 3. Out came a slightly denser version of Miss Craig's custard, piping hot and still barely jiggling.
Try it! I didn't measure anything (except I used 6 eggs for the French toast) and I had to keep my eye on the microwave while it was cooking. Your microwave is probably different to mine; just make sure not to overcook it. When it puffs up over the rim of the dish, it's done, and when it comes out it should still be wobbly and probably a little runny underneath, but that's okay: just let it sit in it's super-hot bowl or ramekin until it settles down and finishes cooking to perfection in its own heat.