Boston Cream Pie-Lets: A Lesson in Assumptions

The cutest mini Boston Cream Pies!

Pudding is Always the Right Choice

This cake was chosen for no particular reason other than the allure of pudding that would use the egg yolks left over from last week’s meringue. That said, I could not wait to dive into this finished cake.

If there is anything I truly love, it’s pudding. Homemade pudding elevates the pleasure factor in almost any cake recipe, in my humble opinion.

Vintage Cakes author, Julie Richardson clearly has the same affection for pudding. In the recipe description, she explains the reason why she chose to re-engineer the construction into individual cakes is to increase the pudding ratio.

If you haven’t been blessed to have one of these confectionery miracles, they are cake, not pie. The name is a misnomer.

Don’t Tell My Mom I Licked the Beaters

The cake itself, like its predecessors in this project, is a decadent cream cake made with heavy cream. No other oil or fat is needed.

Either I was having a hormonal craving—which is not unlikely, by the way—or I was overdue for dinner. In any case, I decided I mustn’t ever make one of these cakes before dinner again. It was torture!

The beautiful, silky vanilla batter was irresistible.

I know! I know!

My mom would die if she knew I was sampling batter with raw eggs. I’m aware it’s not just “bad chickens” that carry bacteria, but I’ve convinced myself that since these are local chickens, tended by my friend, they would never make me sick.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. I sampled the batter, and it was confirmed—amazing! As predicted, I didn’t get sick.

The Proof is in the Pudding (and Ganache)

If you’ve never dabbled in homemade pudding, don’t be scared away. It’s really pretty simple, and this pudding had a real vanilla bean.

Fancy, right?

The idea that I was making something “fancy” made it no work at all. It’s just a simple back-and-forth process of heating and whisking. The thickened pudding is strained, resulting in a rich and creamy treat. Those lovely little black vanilla seed flecks provide evidence that you are, in fact, a master chef.

The pudding, in my opinion, is the shining star of this treat.

Lastly, the ganache glaze is the simplest step with the most reward. Dark chocolate and heavy cream—you can’t go wrong. It almost makes itself.

At this point, I began to question myself, “Why have I never made a Boston Cream Pie?” I dearly love layers of cake and pudding and silky chocolate, but I’d unknowingly convinced myself it was too much work.

The Cutest Mini Cakes

These little cups of joy were so adorable once assembled, and the design allowing extra pudding was simply brilliant. Thank you for thinking outside the box, Julie!

For the construction, I used ramekins and the same teacups from last week’s cakes. There is nothing cuter than a mini two-layer cake nestled into a plentiful pool of pudding. The layers were dripping with more pudding, and it was all topped off with a generous coat of the fudgy chocolate.

Assumptions are the Enemy of Enlightenment: The Transcend Moment

Did I say these were a decadent reward for trying something new?

I think that was the lesson I took from this. I’d never taken it upon myself to make a Boston Cream Pie, I guess because it seemed fussy and fancy. Honestly, I don’t think Boston Cream Pies are commonplace around my circle, anyway. If they are, nobody is sharing with me.

As mentioned, I only chose this cake next out of perceived necessity. Not only would my mom freak out about me eating raw egg batter, but she’d lose her mind over wasted egg yolks.

What a sweet surprise that I found these gems were much simpler than I’d realized. I’ve gone almost 52 years Boston Cream Pie-less because I made an assumption that it was too much work.

You know what they say about assuming, right? As a recovering “assumer”, this is just another piece of evidence that trying is better than not trying. And now I am no longer Boston Cream Pie-less.

As it happened, the only problem was that I had eight of these cups of love and nobody to eat them (besides my husband and me). As things always do, it worked out that my friends were happy to help me test the result.

I guess we are fancy now!