With the arrival of spring, I cannot think of anything more glorious than the first eggs of the season — especially the ones Betty gives us.

"Betty" is actually the name I call any of the 100 or so very sweet laying hens roaming about the yard and fields of Summerland, our family's farm in Cartersville. They come in many varieties — Araucanas, Red Caps, Mottled Cochins, Rhode Island Reds and such — and lay both brown and pastel-hued eggs of various sizes, some as large as avocados. We supplement their diet with crushed oyster shells, alfalfa, corn and oats, resulting in incredibly flavorful, brilliant yellow egg yolks.

Charlotte B. Teagle/Special (ENLARGE)

Styling by ANNE QUATRANO A classic way to serve custard is over fresh fruit, such as strawberries. For a 'boiled' custard recipe and two methods for making it.

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I may be biased, but I think that's why our fresh pastas, pastries and custards of all kinds taste best at this time of year, especially when paired with seasonal ingredients.

Spring eggs go well with spring flavors. Asparagus flan is always a menu favorite. When the California Walnut Marketing Board dined at our restaurant the other night, we served walnut and green onion custards baked in the eggshells — a big hit.

But as much as I love to invent new dishes, it's just as rewarding to rediscover an old favorite. For instance, a mason jar of boiled custard, ready to be poured over fresh-picked fruit still warm from the afternoon sun, is one classic dessert that simply can't be improved upon.

Thanks to Peter Gordy of Atlanta, there is a batch of it sitting in my refrigerator right now. He was one of dozens of readers of the AJC Food & Drink section who submitted some type of custard recipe, and the story behind it, to the paper's ongoing Southern Recipe Restoration Project (see below for details).

For this assignment, I was asked to choose a selection of recipes that fall into this category — sweet or savory, from puddings to pies to spoonbread — and see how well they play in a contemporary kitchen.

Reading the stories, I was reminded why custards seem to endure indefinitely in our memories. It is, after all, the first food we feed our children. Among my earliest food recollections as a preschooler is of the custards sprinkled with nutmeg my grandmother would bake for us in small Pyrex dishes — especially in the time of any small illness.

Yet, with boiled custard in particular comes an array of stigmas. Some people are frightened away by the fat, dairy and sugar. Others fear undercooking or overcooking it, and facing the embarrassment of serving a watery, curdled or rubbery mess. And then there is the common misjudgment that custards are complicated — when in fact they take a lot less time than baking a poundcake.

But they can be a little tricky. For one thing, they're not really boiled — they are stirred on top of the stove and brought only to a simmer. Once you get past their misleading name, you're on your way to success.

While preparing the various yet similar recipes submitted to the paper for "boiled custard," it occurred to us at Bacchanalia that this recipe is almost exactly what we use to make a pastry cream — with just a slight alteration in the method that is far less likely to curdle and reduces the preparation time by almost half. I chose Mr. Gordy's because it used cornstarch instead of flour, and the proportion of sugar to milk and eggs seemed about right.

Using this method but with the formula he recalls from his childhood, we compared it side by side with the original and found no discernible difference in the end product.

"Heaven in a bowl" was how Mr. Gordy described it in his letter. I could not agree more.

Editor's note: This year, Anne Quatrano joined our now six-member Saving Southern Food chefs panel, which is helping us sort through the steady stream of heirloom recipes and stories readers continue to contribute to our Southern Recipe Restoration Project (see details, K8). She and her husband, Clifford Harrison, have won numerous national awards as chef-owners of their four Atlanta establishments: Bacchanalia, Quinones, Floataway Cafe and Star Provisions. Although she grew up in New England, Quatrano's Georgia family roots run deep. She strengthens those connections by working her family farm in Cartersville and drawing inspiration from old Southern recipes such as those we feature today.