Publications sur les réseaux sociaux

A baked vanilla rice pudding that spends two lazy hours in a low oven, with pears caramelising on the shelf below, while the whole house fills with the warm, rich scent of Madagascan vanilla. No technique, no stress. Just stirring, waiting, and that first spoonful under the golden skin.
Madagascan vanilla is the classic for a reason. Deep, creamy and sweet, it was made for slow winter puddings like this one.

Recipe below. 🖤

Serves 6
You’ll need:
110g arborio or medium-grain rice
1L full-cream milk
150ml thickened cream
80g caster sugar
3 tsp Natural Vanilla Extract, Madagascan Origin
50g unsalted butter
Pinch of salt
3 firm pears, halved and cored
40g brown sugar

1. Oven to 150°C (130°C fan). Stir the rice, milk, cream, caster sugar, 2 tsp of the vanilla and the salt straight into a buttered 1.5L baking dish. Dot with 20g butter.
2. Bake uncovered for 30 mins, then gently stir the skin back in.
3. Meanwhile, place the pears cut side up in a lined tray. Mix the brown sugar with 30g melted butter and the last tsp of vanilla, then spoon over the pears.
4. Stir the pudding once more and slide the pears onto the shelf below. Bake both for 60 to 75 mins until the pudding is creamy under a golden skin and the pears are tender and caramelised.
5. Rest 10 mins, then serve topped with the pears, their pan caramel and a splash of cream.

Save this one.🖤

Surprised? Most people are. Vanilla doesn’t come off the vine dark, glossy and fragrant; it starts like this. Green, waxy, and with almost no scent at all.

The magic happens in the months that follow: hand-picked at just the right moment, then cured slowly – sweated, sun-dried, rested – until those green pods turn deep brown and develop the aroma we all know.

It’s one of the most labour-intensive crops on earth, and every single pod passes through human hands.

Be honest, did you know vanilla started out green? 👇

When we make our vanilla extract, the pods give up their flavour – but the seeds? They’re just getting started.

We dry them, sieve them, and give them a second life: those tiny black flecks you see in a proper crème brûlée, a good vanilla ice cream, a bakery custard tart. The quiet signature of real vanilla.

One bean, two lives. That’s how we think everything should work.
Where do you love spotting the flecks — custard, ice cream, or panna cotta? 👇