WORTH THE WAIT
Sweet success after recipe bomb
I hate when recipes don’t turn out.
No, it’s not the biggest disaster in the world, but when you’ve put in time, effort and ingredients and something fails, it’s disheartening and frustrating. Doubly so when it’s something you have to patiently wait for to see if it works, only to discover it hasn’t.
Such was the case of a butterscotch pudding I made the other night. Or attempted to make. The instructions were unusual and even in the first few steps things didn’t seem to be going the right way, but I continued on. I had faith that luscious, creamy and deeply sweet pudding was only going to be a few hours away, that I would be enjoying spoonfuls in the late evening just before getting ready for bed. I was mistaken. Instead of thick, tantalizing, deeply golden pudding, I ended up with four glasses of beige liquid about the consistency of a milkshake — one that has been sitting out for a while.
I take part ownership of the recipe’s failure; I don’t think I let it come to a boil long enough for the cornstarch to really do its job of thickening the mixture out of fear it would burn since I had impatiently turned up the heat a bit. Don’t do that. But I also don’t think the recipe was really going to work from the first few steps. I should have trusted my instincts.
In complaining about cooking failures to a friend, she offered her own pudding recipe. One that is chocolate instead of butterscotch, but, in her words is “super easy.” She told me the trick with pudding is patience — not something I’m often blessed with.
Pudding is easy, and relatively fast, but you still can’t rush it. Whisk all the dry ingredients, add the milk and then continue to stir as it heats up. Don’t whisk constantly, as I was wont to do, but don’t abandon it. And then, when it does reach a boil, let it bubble away like lava for at least a minute before turning off the heat and scooping it into pretty little glasses or ramekins.
I opted to use the teacups from my grandfather’s tea set as pudding holders. And, once chilled and ready to eat, I decided to top them with a dollop of slightly sweetened whipped cream to — ironically — cut some of the richness of the pudding.
They weren’t ready to eat by the time I went to bed. But they were perfectly thick and delicious for breakfast the next morning. And they were definitely worth the wait.
I had faith that luscious, creamy pudding was only going to be a few hours away, that I would be enjoying spoonfuls in the late evening ...