And I bake bread, bread, BREAD. … Ahem, sorry. As you can see, I’m in bread pudding mode this weekend.

Growing up, there was always a battle of the grandmothers for the bread pudding title in my family, but Nola’s dense, plain dessert topped with meringue always beat Edna’s pineapple-and-coconut fancy blend, in my opinion. Nola hasn’t been able to cook for a few years, but I can still remember everything about what’s become my ur-pudding — the ancient pan it baked in that no longer knew how to lay flat on the counter, how the bits of meringue I couldn’t scrape off sweetened it just a touch, the crust stratification in each perfectly square piece, and how it was always best fresh from the oven and served in a puddle of Pet Milk (never, ever, bourbon sauce).

About 10 years ago, I started collecting recipes from my older relatives when I was home for the holidays to keep these dishes alive, to make sure they weren’t lost to time. And, to be honest, I like knowing I’ll always have a little piece of my family with me whenever I make my grandfather’s oyster dressing or sauce piquant, my uncle’s cornbread dressing, my aunt’s banana cake, or my grandmother’s bread pudding.

But the funny thing about family recipes is no one but the person famous for making them can make them. Sure, what I turn out is passable, but it isn’t the same. Following my grandmother’s directions to the letter turns out a different bread pudding every time, so I just don’t know how she achieved such consistency. I blame the lack of Louisiana humidity in my kitchen, but, of course that isn’t it. (I’m not one of those people who buys that “cooking with love” business, either. Apart from sounding really gross, I’m pretty sure your state of mind isn’t making the food any more palatable.)

Instead of moaning about how I can never get it right, I decided to start my own bread pudding tradition when Gil and I got married. I bake the pudding on a layer of slightly sweetened blueberries and add a little bourbon and cane syrup to the custard for flavor. It isn’t bread pudding as anyone in my family would recognize it, but it’s all mine and feels like home.

Apart from making a nice dessert from scraps, bread pudding can also be a complete meal. Savory versions abound, and are a great way to use leftovers — add whatever meat, vegetable, or cheese is hanging around in your fridge, combine it with bread, milk, and eggs, and you’re on your way. I found a delicious recipe for Swiss Chard Bread Pudding at Last Night’s Dinner and munched on that for a few days last week. It really is a versatile dish.

recipes after the jump

Nola’s Bread Pudding

You’ll see that this recipe leaves a bit to the imagination. It might take a few tries to get the proportions right, but once you do, you’ll be rewarded with a lovely, creamy, very bread-y pudding.

10-15 slices stale bread
1 small can Pet Milk (evaporated — NOT condensed — milk)
milk
5-6 egg yolks (reserve whites for meringue)
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix ingredients together, adding milk as needed. Bake in large rectangular cake pan for approximately one hour. Top with meringue (recipe follows) and bake until brown.

Meringue

Beat 5-6 large egg whites and 1 teaspoon sugar until stiff peaks form. Spread on bread pudding.

My Bread Pudding

1 loaf challah bread (or brioche, or equal amount of croissants)
4 eggs
1 1/2 cups whole milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
2 tablespoons pure cane syrup (I use Steen’s)
splash of bourbon or Tennessee whiskey
frozen blueberries
zest of 1/4 lemon
1 tablespoon sugar, divided
1-2 teaspoons flour
1/8 teaspoon cardamom
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Butter bottom and sides of small baking dish. Pour 1/2-inch layer of frozen blueberries into baking dish. Add 1/2 tablespoon sugar, flour, lemon zest, cardamom, and cinnamon. Stir to combine.

Tear bread into large pieces and place in a single layer on large baking sheet. Toast in oven for about 10 minutes, or until bread begins to dry out. Do not brown.

In a large bowl, whisk together, eggs, milk, vanilla and almond extracts, cane syrup, and bourbon. Add bread, pressing down so it absorbs the egg mixture evenly. Let soak for a few minutes (or, if you’re using croissants, for one hour), then spoon over blueberries. Sprinkle with remaining 1/2 tablespoon sugar.
Bake at 350 degrees for approximately 45 minutes, or until blueberry filling is bubbly and bread layer is evenly browned. (This time around, my blueberry layer spilled over the sides, so you might want to bake this on a tray.)

Swiss Chard Bread Pudding from Last Night’s Dinner

Be sure to click over and read around; these people know how to eat.

6 cups bread, cubed (I used a potato and scallion loaf)
1 bunch swiss chard
1 1/2 cups fresh mushrooms, sliced or chopped if large
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp butter, plus more to grease the baking dish
6 large eggs
1 1/2 cups whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon Colemans mustard powder
Kosher salt and fresh ground pepper
2 tablespoon each chopped fresh thyme and sage
4 oz. soft fresh goat cheese
1 cup grated gruyere

Preheat oven to 400. Add bread cubes to a buttered baking dish and set aside. Add 1 tbsp. of butter and 1 tbsp. olive oil to a pan set over medium heat. When the butter has melted, add mushrooms and a pinch of salt and cook until softened. Add cleaned and chopped chard, another pinch of salt and pepper and saute until the chard is wilted.

Combine eggs, milk, cream, mustard, thyme and sage in a large mixing bowl and whisk well. Season with salt and pepper. Add cooked chard and mushrooms to the egg mixture and stir to combine. Crumble goat cheese into the mixture and pour over bread cubes. Using your hands, gently toss the ingredients together until well combined, pressing down the bread cubes so they are fully moistened with the egg mixture.

Place the baking dish into the oven and bake uncovered for 20 minutes. Remove, add gruyere to the top in an even layer, and return to the oven for another 10 minutes, until the cheese is melted and golden.