“Fresh-baked pecan brownie and rich vanilla ice cream topped with homemade chocolate sauce and chocolate shavings.”

YUM. Drooling yet?

That’s the “Chocolate Thunder from Down Under” from Outback Steakhouse. Doesn’t it sound heavenly? We were deciding between that and the “Chocolate Chocolate Tower” (“a towering chocolate layer cake served atop raspberry sauce”) when we went there recently for my birthday. My son really wanted the Chocolate Chocolate Tower but I didn’t want raspberry–I wanted chocolate and vanilla and more chocolate. I wanted cold and warm. I wanted different textures. I wanted something special since we rarely eat out anyway. Plus, it was my birthday. So I chose. 😀

Oh, it was nice. We could’ve really enjoyed it if we weren’t stuffed from dinner. We barely made a dent in it. But the lovely chewy brownie drowning in the melting vanilla and hot fudge…oh my gosh. I am drooling as I type. That was so lovely.

I rarely eat dessert. I love it, but I just don’t eat very much of it, usually because I’m filled up with other things like steak 😀 Even at home, I don’t eat/buy very much sweets. I’m not sure why. We rarely had it when we were growing up, so I guess that stuck with me, unlike my sisters who totally rebelled that and eat nothing BUT dessert now (though they were blessed with good metabolisms, unlike me). It’s not so much that I want to watch what I eat, either. It’s just that I don’t crave it as much. I enjoy it, but it’s not like I *have* to have it. I can turn down desserts being passed around at parties. To me, it has to be special for me to take a bite.

When we were growing up, as I said, we rarely had dessert. It was such a treat to just have ice cream, which we usually got at Grandma’s house. But when my mom did make dessert, she’d go all the way and make burnt creme. OH MY GOSH. Soooooooooooo yummy. She’d take out her little tins and make her custard sauce, pour them in the tins, and place them carefully in the long pan full of water, so it can steam in the oven. Then she’d take it out, pour the sugar on, and then put them under the broiler, to get that thick, hard crust. Then they’d go in the icebox. We could hardly wait to eat one! We’d gobble down our dinner quickly, and urge our dad to hurry as well, so we could have a burnt creme (and he’d eat slow on purpose!). Then when he finally was ready, we’d get him the big dish, and we’d take our own little small dishes, crack the sugar crust, and dig into the soft, creamy insides. YUMMMMMMMMMM. Gosh, I’m drooling again.

A few years ago, I saw a creme brulee kit at Costco and all those memories of burnt creme came back to me. I excitedly showed my sister the kit, and we agreed we had to try it. I even went and bought the little butane torch thingie so I could burn the sugar, as I’d always seen on Food Network. But I tried it…and it really wasn’t that good. Not how I remembered it, anyway. My sister agreed. Something was lacking.

My mom hasn’t made it in years, but with all the work it takes just to get these little tins of burnt creme, I don’t think it’s worth it for her to slave in the kitchen making it for us. But I think I’ll have to goad my sister into trying to find the recipe in the old cookbooks my mom used, and to try making it the old-fashioned way, with the steam bath it got in the oven. Until then, I can just keep tasting it in my memories, tapping into that hard crust, and digging into the smooth goodness below. Yummmmm. 😉


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