
Chef Margarida
Aletria
The Christmas twin of arroz doce, where angel hair pasta meets warm milk, golden egg yolks, and cinnamon. Convent sweetness born from surplus yolks, humble magic from grandmother's kitchen.
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The most decadent pudim in all of Portugal, born from an abbot's kitchen in Braga. Fifteen egg yolks, bacon fat, port wine. This is convent dessert tradition taken to its glorious extreme.
There are desserts, and then there is Pudim Abade de Priscos. This is the one that makes people go quiet when they taste it, that makes them set down their spoon and ask, "What is in this?"
Fifteen egg yolks. Bacon fat. Port wine. Yes, bacon fat. The abbot who created this in the 1800s understood something profound: that rendered pork fat creates a texture no butter or cream can replicate. Silky. Dense. Almost impossibly smooth. The kind of richness that coats your tongue and stays with you.
I first tasted this pudim in Braga, at the home of a woman whose grandmother had learned the recipe from the abbot's own household. She served it on her wedding china, the way her family had served it for four generations. "Este não é para todos os dias," she told me. This is not for every day. She was right. This is a celebration dessert, a special occasion dessert, the kind of thing you make when you want people to remember a meal forever.
The technique requires patience. The sugar must reach the right point. The egg yolks must be incorporated slowly. The bacon fat must be rendered properly, clean and neutral. Rush any step and you'll know. But follow the process with care, and you'll create something extraordinary. A cozinha é memória, and this pudim carries the memory of an abbot who knew that sometimes, more is more.
This pudim was created by Father Manuel Joaquim Machado Rebelo, the Abbot of Priscos parish near Braga, in the mid-19th century. The abbot was known for his culinary experiments, and this creation became his legacy. The use of bacon fat was revolutionary, transforming a traditional egg custard into something unprecedented. The recipe was kept secret during his lifetime but eventually spread throughout the Minho region after his death in 1866.
Quantity
400g, plus 100g for the caramel
Quantity
250ml
Quantity
15 (from large eggs)
Quantity
100g
strained and cooled
Quantity
100ml
Quantity
from 1 lemon
in strips, no white pith
Quantity
1
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| sugar | 400g, plus 100g for the caramel |
| water | 250ml |
| egg yolks | 15 (from large eggs) |
| rendered bacon fat (banha de toucinho)strained and cooled | 100g |
| ruby port wine | 100ml |
| lemon zestin strips, no white pith | from 1 lemon |
| cinnamon stick | 1 |
Place 100g of sugar in a heavy-bottomed pan over medium heat. Do not stir. Let it melt slowly, swirling the pan occasionally to distribute the heat. Watch it carefully. The moment it turns deep amber, pour it immediately into a 1.5-liter pudim mold, tilting to coat the bottom and sides. Work quickly because caramel waits for no one. Set aside to harden.
In a medium saucepan, combine the 400g sugar with the water, lemon zest strips, and cinnamon stick. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring only until the sugar dissolves. Then stop stirring. Let it boil undisturbed until it reaches ponto de estrada (thread stage), about 110°C on a candy thermometer. To test without a thermometer: dip a slotted spoon into the syrup and lift it. When thin threads form between the holes, you're there. Remove from heat.
While the syrup cools slightly (5 minutes), place the 15 egg yolks in a large bowl. Beat them gently with a fork until combined but not frothy. You're not incorporating air here. You're just breaking them down.
Remove the lemon zest and cinnamon stick from the syrup. Slowly, in a thin stream, pour the warm syrup into the egg yolks while stirring constantly. Go slowly. You're tempering the eggs, bringing them up to temperature without cooking them. If you rush, you'll have sweet scrambled eggs. Once all the syrup is incorporated, the mixture should be smooth and golden.
The bacon fat should be at room temperature, soft but not liquid. Add it to the egg mixture in small pieces, stirring continuously until each piece is fully incorporated before adding the next. The mixture will become incredibly silky. Finally, stir in the port wine. Pass everything through a fine-mesh sieve into a clean bowl. This removes any bits that would mar the texture.
Pour the custard mixture into the caramel-lined mold. Tap gently to release any air bubbles. Cover tightly with aluminum foil. Place the mold in a deep roasting pan. Fill the pan with hot water until it reaches halfway up the sides of the mold. This banho-maria is essential for gentle, even cooking.
Bake in a preheated oven at 160°C (320°F) for 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes. The pudim is done when it's set around the edges but still has a slight wobble in the very center when you tap the pan. It will continue to set as it cools. Better to undercook slightly than to overcook. An overdone pudim loses its silky texture.
Remove the mold from the water bath and let it cool to room temperature on a wire rack. This takes at least 2 hours. Then refrigerate overnight, or at least 6 hours. The pudim must be completely cold before unmolding. Patience is not optional here.
Run a thin knife around the edge of the pudim. Place your serving plate on top of the mold and flip decisively. The pudim should release with a satisfying sound, the caramel pooling around it like liquid amber. If it sticks, set the bottom of the mold briefly in warm water and try again. Slice at the table, showing your guests the dense, golden interior. Serve cold, in thin slices. This pudim is rich. A little goes a long way.
1 serving (about 140g)
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