I’ve eaten a lot of flan in my day, maybe hundreds of pounds. I’ve eaten it in Mexico, Puerto Rico and in numerous other Caribbean locales. I’ve also eaten it Cuban-style, thanks to an old college roommate whose family was from Cuba. I’ve ordered it in every Latin restaurant I’ve ever dined in. I’ve experienced custardy flans, creamy flans, eggy flans and watery flans. I think it’s safe to say that I know my flan. And this flan, dear readers, is the best I’ve ever had. It’s the Holy Grail of flan. It’s flantastic. It is literally caramel-covered crack.
The original recipe for this flan came my way over thirty years ago, when my Aunt Yolanda shared it with my mother. You remember my Aunt Yolanda, don’t you? She’s that swingin’ 60’s chick I told you about a while back. Well, she happens to be a fantastic cook too. (She’s the one who taught me that you should never eat mashed potatoes without some buttery, golden corn mixed in.) And once upon a time, she had a neighbor from Puerto Rico who was also a fantastic cook. I don’t remember the neighbor’s name. We’ll just call her Maria. Anyway, Maria gave Aunt Yolanda her family’s recipe for flan and all others have paled in comparison ever since.
This article appears in Nov 4-10, 2010.