You probably haven’t had a custard square.
Or maybe you have, and it just wasn’t the one. The kind that melts into your soul and also somehow into your shirt because custard is chaos in dessert form.
I don’t even remember the first time I had one. It wasn’t some magical grandma-pulling-a-tray-out-of-the-oven situation. It was more like…I was traveling through New Zealand, jet-lagged, sunburned, and probably dehydrated, and I wandered into this little bakery in Wellington with zero expectations. And bam. There it was. Sitting in the case. All innocent and flaky. Like, “Hi. I might change your life today.”
And guess what? It did.
Wait, What Even Is a Custard Square?
Okay, let’s get this out of the way.
If you’re from the U.S. (like me), you might look at a custard square and think, “Oh, it’s like a vanilla slice.”
And you’d be… kinda right.
But also wrong.
Because custard squares have attitude.
They’ve got layers—literally and emotionally.
They’re unapologetically messy and dramatic.
Imagine this: thick, silky custard sandwiched between two flaky puff pastry layers, topped with a smooth-as-sin icing that cracks when you bite into it like a delicate sugar crust. It’s basically Napoleon’s chaotic good cousin.
Why I Decided to Make One (Spoiler: It Was a Mistake)
I woke up one Sunday with this weird craving for custard squares. Maybe it was homesickness for a country I don’t even live in. Maybe I just wanted sugar. Or maybe I saw one on Pinterest at 1 a.m. and my subconscious was like, “Hey, make this.”
So I tried.
I should tell you—I’m not a pastry chef. I’m not even a follow-the-directions chef. I’m more of a vibe-it-out type. Which is great for pasta. Less great for desserts that require things like precision and not skipping chilling steps because you’re impatient.
Still, I pushed on. Because once I get a craving, I go full goblin mode.
The Not-So-Professional Custard Square Recipe I Used
Here’s what I meant to follow. No promises were kept.
🛒 Ingredients (for the Chaos)
For the pastry:
- 2 sheets of frozen puff pastry (store-bought, because I’m not a psychopath)
custard filling:
- 2 cups whole milk
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1/4 cup cornstarch
- 1/4 cup flour
- 4 egg yolks
- 2 tsp vanilla extract
- Pinch of salt
- Knob of butter (I don’t measure butter. Sue me.)
icing:
- 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
- 1–2 tbsp milk
- Splash of vanilla
- (Optional: pink food coloring if you wanna be ✨authentic✨)
The Custard Square Chaos Begins
Puff Pastry Drama
I baked the puff pastry sheets first. Laid them out, docked them with a fork (so they don’t puff up like a life raft), and baked at 400°F until golden and flaky.
Easy, right?
Except one of them puffed up like it was trying to escape Earth’s atmosphere. I literally had to sit on my kitchen floor and press it down with a cutting board while whispering “please chill.”
The Custard That Tried to End Me
This part was… not smooth. Ironically.
I whisked the eggs, sugar, cornstarch, and flour together like I knew what I was doing. Heated the milk and cream until just bubbling, then slowly added it to the egg mixture.
And then back in the pot to thicken.
Stir like your life depends on it.
It thickened. Then it thickened more. Then it went full toddler-pudding-mode.
I panicked.
Took it off the heat. Added the butter and vanilla. Tasted it.
It was…surprisingly good? Like, “this could work” good.
Assembly (a.k.a. The Tetris of Desserts)
Laid down one pastry layer. Poured in the custard. Spread it like spackling a weirdly delicious wall. Topped with the second pastry sheet and whispered, “Godspeed.”
Then I covered it and shoved it in the fridge for four hours.
Did I peek every 20 minutes? Yes.
Did I eat a chunk of the extra pastry corners while waiting? Also yes.
Icing for the Win
Mixed up the icing and spread it over the top. Super simple. Except the top layer started sliding like it was on a slip ‘n slide. I panicked (again) and used toothpicks to hold it in place. Worked like a charm, honestly. MacGyver but make it pastry.
And Then Came the First Bite
I cut a square (okay, a rectangle…we’re not geometry wizards) and took a bite.
I swear, time slowed down.
Flaky. Creamy. Sweet but not cloying. Vanilla-y in a way that makes you question whether all other vanilla things are imposters.
I sat at the counter, custard on my shirt, phone full of messy step-by-step pics, and felt…weirdly proud?
Would I Make It Again?
Yes.
But also, I need a nap first.
Seriously though—if you’ve never had a custard square, this is your sign. Make it. Buy it. Fly to NZ if you’re feeling wild.
Because this humble lil’ dessert? It’s everything.
It’s the snack of road trips and school lunches and bakery display cases where nothing else really calls to you.
And if you do make it? Please message me. Send pics. Tell me if your pastry exploded. We’re in this together now.
