




It was an essay written by Amy McDaniel on her experience cooking from a book called "The Whole Beast: Nose to Tail Eating" written by a British chef, Fergus Henderson. It's a recipe book for making use of the entire animal, organs, ears, and feet.
According to McDaniel one recipe in the book offers no specific quantities only a listing of ingredients, but Chef Henderson offers this advice - "a very good dish if you are feeling a little dented."
Dented. I love that visual.
Sometimes life is hard, dadgummit it. Sometimes I feel scratched and I do feel dented like an aluminum sauté pan that's been clanged around roughly in the kitchen.
Today was one of those days. Nevermind what caused the dent, the important part is how I got "undented": savory bread pudding.
I had a craving for bread pudding, but my whole-roasted garlic bread that I had on hand didn’t fit with my notion of traditional bread pudding with cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, etc.
But it fit perfectly with the idea of a savory bread pudding and that is the direction I took with it.
I cubed it into bite size chunks, added green onion, savory (the spice), red pepper flakes, an egg, cream, and Gruyere. Forty minutes later I was enjoying my savory bread pudding with grilled flank steak, sautéed brussel sprouts, a glass of French Syrah-Grenache and feeling a little less dented.
I am very grateful for leftovers; the savory bread pudding will be here tomorrow should I require additional undenting.
If not I will enjoy it anyways.
Savory Bread Pudding
3 cups whole-roasted garlic french bread, cubed into bite-sized pieces
2 green onions, thinly sliced
1/4 teaspoon savory
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 egg
1 cup whipping cream
1/4 c. Gruyere, shredded
Toss the bread with the green onions, savory, red pepper flakes, and Gruyere. In another bowl, beat the egg and then add the cream. Mix to combine, but do not beat. Add the egg mixture to the bread mixture. Stir to combine. Place the mixture in a small casserole dish. Bake at 375 for 40 minutes, or until done.


Before there was Cognac, before there was Calvados, and even long before Christopher Columbus was a twinkle in his father’s eye, there was Armagnac.






