Step 1) Get drunk. Preferably on wine because a mellow, classy drunk will serve you well in the kitchen.
Step 2) Crush a bunch of old croissants that have been hardening in their plastic bakery container on your counter for a month or so into a million tiny pieces. Or, you know, some old bread. Whatever you’ve got lying around. Don’t worry about how big or small the pieces are. Just listen to your heart. It is probably drunk too and it knows what it wants.
Step 3) Pour a bunch of milk in a bowl. Eyeball it. Will it cover your croissant pieces? Maybe. If it doesn’t you can always pour more.
Step 4) Dig drunkenly through your spice collection. What looks like it would be good in bread pudding? Sugar? Obviously. Brown sugar? Why not. Cinnamon? Duh. Nutmeg? Go ahead, be classy. Oooh, I’m feeling frisky—how about a pinch of ginger? Survey says yes. Go ahead and dump all that shit in your milk. To taste, obviously.
Step 5) According to a brief drunk dial to my mom you are supposed to put vanilla extract in bread pudding. Don’t have any vanilla? Don’t worry—a capful of almond extract will probably work. Try it. What do you have to lose? If it tastes like shit you can always toss the entire thing and finish off that tapioca pudding you’ve got in the fridge.
Step 6) Did you put those croissant/bread crumbs in a baking dish back in Step 2? Because obviously we’re going to bake it. Duh. You are probably a pretty smart lady (dude?) so let’s assume you did. Now go ahead and pour your milk-spice mixture over it. If you don’t have enough milk repeat steps 3-this one.
Step 7) Pop in the oven on 350 ° (cause that sounds like a pretty good temperature for baking bread pudding).
Step 8) Stumble back to your room and watch 20 minutes of something while you wait. Me, I’m going to watch an episode of Fairy Tail because I’m already caught up on 30 Rock and The Office, but whatever makes your drunken self happy is fine. You don’t even have to watch anything if you don’t want to. Hell, drink some more or masturbate or something. The world is your oyster and either way your bread pudding is going to bake.
Step 9) Have 20 minutes passed? Is it ready? It probably should be (mine isn’t). If it isn’t have some damn patience. Check on it after another five minutes. Keep checking on it until it is ready. You can tell it’s ready because it looks like bread pudding and not chunks of old bread and milk sloshing around in a pan. If you don’t know what bread pudding looks like you are probably too drunk.
Step 10) Hmmm....maybe some more brown sugar would be good on top. Yeah. Coat liberally and continue baking.
Step 11) Pull that baby out of the oven. Holy shit that smells good, right? You could probably eat the entire thing in a sitting, but don’t. Show some restraint. Let that shit cool a bit or you’re going to burn your mouth and you might not feel it now but when you wake up tomorrow the last thing you’re going to need is a hangover AND a scalded mouth. After it cools, go ahead and shovel it in your mouth to your drunk little heart’s content, because if you’ve successfully baked a bread pudding while drunk you have earned it.
Note: This is actually pretty damn good. And not just because I’m drunk. Okay, maybe skip the almond extract...or go easy on it. But as far as drunken baked puddings go you could do a lot worse. Enjoy responsibly!
Image via Annie Mole's Flickr