Nigella Eats Everything

A crème brûlée is one of those delicate French desserts which we Brits adore and worship from afar but probably never attempt to make. Add it to the collection along with soufflé, mille-feuille and croquembouche. Even the name ‘crème brûlée’ doesn’t help (does it really need this many accents?!).

I’ve started taking French lessons. I have had six so far and my somewhat shaky confidence, my belief that I held a je ne sais quoi whenever I spoke French, is crumbling around me. There is a big difference between teaching yourself – hence no speaking out loud, I’ll add, unless you want to sound crazy – and sitting in a Zoom class with three others all communicating in French for a whole hour.

If I’m alone with Harry Potter et les Reliques de la Mort, in my head I’m practically fluent. In class, asking my classmates what do they do at the weekend is another story. And I’ve quickly followed everyone else’s lead and turned off my camera! My blushes are just for myself.

So, in order to encompass myself in ‘French living’, I made raspberry and hazelnut crème brûlées – not the most intrinsic part of French life but good enough. Indeed, my own Frenchman is far more partial to a chocolate éclair, chocolate mousse or just a jar of Nutella than all this crème brûlée faff. I proudly told him that I was making a dessert from his homeland and all he did was correct my pronunciation. (FYI it’s ‘bruleh’ not ‘brulay’, although it’s hilarious to repeat crème brooLAY to a despairing French person. Definitely try it sometime.)

While there are amazingly imaginative recipes online which infuse the custard with pistachio and honey, espresso, or maple syrup, I wanted to make the most of our glass soufflé-dishes and layer my dessert with colours. This is where the raspberry and hazelnut come in.

How to make raspberry and hazelnut crème brûlées

These little crème brûlées are layered with flavour and I mean that in the literal sense just as much as the figurative. The pop of fuchsia at the bottom of the dish is almost as satisfying as the tangy sourness, a fruity complement to the cream. While some people can eat a whole pot of set custard, my mother included, I like a bit of variety in life. Which is why one flavour wasn’t enough! Even just recounting this story and I’m rolling my eyes at myself, dear reader. So I had to make hazelnut nougatine.

Nougatine is similar to praline, however, in this case the nuts are chopped and toasted prior to coating in caramel, giving it a stronger nuttier taste and smoother bite. Once my hazelnuts were tossed in the sticky caramel and cool, I then blitzed them in the food processor until smooth and creamy, like a sweetened caramelised hazelnut butter, ready for scooping up with a spoonful of custard.

Plus, the beauty of French desserts is that they know how to keep them small – petit, if you will. A mere morsel of sweetness and one is satisfied. (Although tell that to me and Gaylord when we’re sitting on the sofa sharing a serving bowl of chocolate mousse for four.) A ramekin of raspberry and hazelnut crème brûlée which is rich, smooth and well-balanced with fruity, nutty flavours, creamy thick and jammy textures, is just enough.

Aside from learning French conversation, dictation and pronunciation, my next French revision will be soufflés I think. Until then though, raspberry and hazelnut crème brûlées is the best homework I’ve ever had.

P.S Enjoy the blowtorching – but please read this before you go crazy!