It happens every year. I always toast too many bread crumbs for my stuffing, knowing that the time to run short is NOT when you’re pouring hot, buttery, onions, celery and fruit over the bread and doing final assembly. Argh. That would be catastrophic. So, I just toast away until my kitchen is brimming with little golden cubes of stuffing fodder. I do it the night before because after you heat the dickens out of them, they’re nice and dry and don’t mind an overnight stay in the open, dreaming contentedly of their future melding with sausage and butter.

But what to do with these orphans now? Hmmm. I stared at those squares, piled tamely on top of one another inside the zip-lock baggie, jostling for position like college kids in a phone booth, and knew I had to intervene.

Other leftovers are crammed into my fridge, so I don’t have to be reminded of their presence every time I walk into the room. But that bread. It is relentless.

“Use me, please? I don’t want to be smooshed into your garbage disposal. Does it matter you only paid $2.02 at the store for me? I worked hard to make your T-Day a success. You owe me something!”

And so I responded, and without hint, script or guidance, set about assembling the items needed for a bread pudding, and got to work. And dang it if it didn’t work out perfectly. (Nobody likes a bragger, but isn’t that what a blog is for? ME, ME, ME?) And we all say that so you will think, “Okay, I trust her. I will try it!”

That’s my hope, anyway.

So, I’ve discovered some little things that made this so awesome. Things that if YOU DO THEM, you will have success. First, (and get closer to the screen, you need to remember this.) THE BREAD MUST BE DRY SO IT DOESN’T PRODUCE A DENSE pudding. Second, make sure you give it enough time to soak up all the custardy numminess. 12 to 24 hours is non-negotiable for soft raisins and currants, and for a dessert that poofs out while cooking like a 16 year old boy with three, giggly girlfriends. And third, more good vanilla than you would suspect because that is what takes it to the next level. I’m not gonna lie to you, the subtle rum flavor is awesome, but the point is you don’t want to taste it, you want it to compliment the flavors. Otherwise I’d tell you to go make an egg sandwich and wash it down with a little pirate juice (Yo, Ho, Ho and a bottle of…oh you know). Finally, buy a good, professional whisk. I love my Sur La Table version. I feel like a Food Star every time I grab it. Everything must be mixed well and you can do it without an electric mixer if you have a good whisk.

Okay, enough preaching. Let’s start measuring. First, you’ll note this is egg generous and easy on the sugar. I think it gives the dessert and the look of it more of a “pop-over” feel and keeps it from being too pudding-ish (which is often why most people dislike bread pudding in the first place). It rises high and is light and airy, but you don’t miss that creme brulee taste that makes pudding, pudding. Also, I’m very light on the nutmeg and cinnamon. I let the fruit and lightness of the bread stand alone, because when you add the caramely sauce to serve, you want everything balanced.

Let’s just say that those little bread crumbs felt like the center of attention yesterday, and forgot all about that little stuffing incident wherein someone, and I ain’t saying who, almost left them behind. (Hmmm. What flavor bread pudding shall I do next year?)