For two weeks, I planned to make this flan. Two weeks. First, I ended up snacking on the pears. Then the pears were on sale so I would by a bunch of them only to continue snacking on them. After the sale, I couldn’t find Bartlett pears anywhere (for obvious reasons), so a bought some Anjou. Yeah, ate those too.
I can’t help it. I love pears. They are god’s perfect fruit. Or one of them. Cherries are also god’s fruit as well as peaches, plums, apricots, and kiwis.
Hello, my name is Michelle. I’m a type 1 diabetic addicted to fruit. I can’t get enough of it. I have to have fruit in my house at all times. If there is no fruit in my house, well, let’s put it this way, it’s not pretty. I’m a fruitaholic.
But if I’m going to eat anything sugary, it might as well be fruit. At least it’s all natural. I’m funny that way. I’ll be walking through the grocery store thinking, “Man, I need a sweet snack.” I’ll go to the bakery and be all, eh. I’ll go to the junk food aisle and be all, eh. I’ll go to the candy aisle and be all, maybe I don’t want something sweet. I’ll go to the granola/applesauce aisle and be all, yeah I’m just not feeling sweet today. Then I’ll pass the produce where the strawberries are $1.50, the pineapple is 97 cents, and the plums are 99 cents a pound and all of a sudden I’m all, mine all mine.
So yeah, I ate all the pears.
I wanted to try something different. And when I think of flan, I think of latino Hispanic Spanish flan of awesomeness. You know the egg custard gelatin thing with the caramel sauce of scrumptiousness on top.
This is totally not this. At all.
Pear Flan
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
3 eggs
6 tablespoons flour
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons whiskey
2 firm but ripe Bartlett pears
Directions.
Spray a round cake pan with butter cooking spray. Sprinkle the bottom and sides with 1 tablespoon of the sugar.
Beat the eggs in a bowl. Add 1⁄4 cup of sugar into the eggs and stir until light and fluffy.
Mix in the flour, cream, vanilla extract, lemon zest, salt, and liquor until well combined.
Set aside for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, peel, quarter, core, and slice the pears.
Arrange the slices in a single layer, slightly fanned out, in the round cake pan.
Pour the batter over the pears.
Bake until the top is golden brown and the custard is firm at 375 for 40 minutes.
Makes 12. Calories: 176, Carbohydrates: 13 grams, Sugar: 8 grams, Fiber: 1 grams, Protein: 3 grams.
This was not what I thought it was going to be. It’s more of a baked custard with fruit in it.
I love pears. I love fruit. I love baked fruit. I love backed pears. But I did not like this. At all. I’m all WTF mate, WTF is this crap.
Now you’ll probably notice the lemon zest strike out. Yeah. Lemon zest was the culprit making what could potentially be amazing into absolute rancid. The zest overpowered everything. The custard. The pears. It was awful. And all I could think is, “This is what Bryan must mean by over zesting.” Then I get angry because once again, the hubby is right. But will I tell him this? Fuck no. Boy has a culinary ego the size of Bobby Flay and he doesn’t cook. So he took home ec in high school for two semesters, did a few culinary competitions, and his teacher rather him cook instead of sew, it doesn’t mean he’s god’s gift to cooking.
Sad part is, if I’m not sure about something I always ask him. And I hate it every time.
So needless to say, I threw the damn flan out after a day and made sure Bryan never had a slice. Will I try this again? I have no clue. I’m a little frustrated with it. Will it taste bland without the zest? Should I cut down the zest and up the vanilla? What exactly am I looking for flavor wise when overhauling it? Should I even attempt to tweak it? These are all great questions that I have no answer to.
Do I consider this a fail? Yes! Therefore, the only thing I happen to know about this bloody pear flan is, if you aren’t sure about it, don’t make it. Sure you can take out the zest and hope for a pear and vanilla custard like thing that could potentially be amazeballs, or it could flop and become overly bland.
What ever you do, do not cut the pear into quartered chunks. What I would do is slice it and overlap creating a beautiful flower that way when you flip it, it doesn’t look like in edible shit.
Like this.
The DIABETIC Kitchen 