Rice pudding

My grandmother was a big fan of dessert. It got to the point where that was all she'd eat -- she'd have a slice of cake or pie at the start of a meal, and then beg-off the rest of it saying she was too full. She was particularly fond of desserts with booze in them. She'd pour Galliano on vanilla ice cream like it was nobody's business. We also used to get black forest cakes from a local Czech baker for every birthday, and whenever my Gran hit the cherry filling layer, she'd be sure to comment "can you taste that? They use real rum in there. Mmmm...." (Incidentally, watch out for the black forest cake sizes at Tim Horton's. The Czech baker disappeared a few years back, and my Dad wanted to carry on the black forest tradition, so he went for the Tim Horton's option. The first year he tried it, he thought the cake was a little small. The next year, he went back and said: "You know that large cake I bought last year, well it was too small so give me the next size up." To which the attendant answered, "But sir, the next size up..." and my Dad cut in, "Don't go arguing with me, I just want the next size up." At which point the attendant demurred and ordered the cake. When my Dad came to pick the thing up, he discovered that the next size up was meant to serve 60 people -- we had a good chuckle over the whole thing, and needless to say ate cake breakfast, lunch, and supper for the better part of a four day weekend. Although, as you can probably guess, there was no real rum involved.)

Anyway, rice pudding was one of my Gran's specialties, and we always seemed to have some on hand. When she passed away in 1995, the dish disappeared from the scene for quite some time. I never got around to seeking out a recipe, although I thought of doing so when I saw it offered on a diner menu every now and again. As luck would have it, a recipe fell in my lap courtesy of the "comfort food" issue of Bon Appetit (March 2009). Please join me in this rice pudding tribute to my granny!

The first thing you need to do is get some dried currants soaking in rum. The recipe doesn't call for this, but we need to get some booze in there somehow -- this is a tribute after all. My Gran always put raisins in her rice pudding, but I was all out (although they should work fine here too), so I subbed in some currants. I ended up soaking them for about two hours -- just to plump them up and add a little, you know, flavour.

Next you can assemble the other ingredients. You'll need 3/4 cup of basmati rice, 1 1/2 cups of water, 1/4 teaspoon of salt, 4 cups of milk/cream (the recipe calls for 1 cup of cream and 3 cups of whole milk -- I went 50 - 50 since more cream is always better), 1/2 cup of sugar, and about half a vanilla bean.

First, cook the rice. Bring the 1 1/2 cups of water, the salt, and the rice to a simmer over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to low, cover the pot, and let it cook for 10 minutes or so until the water is absorbed. (The recipe calls for all this to happen in one pot, but I think it makes sense to cook the rice in a small pot, and the pudding in a large one, since 1 1/2 cups of water pretty much vanishes in a big pot. In fact, next time around I may just skip the whole cook-the-rice-first idea and do it all at once. I'll let you know how that works out.)

While the rice is cooking, split the vanilla bean lengthwise and scrape the seeds out into the milk and cream mixture. Drop the bean parts in there too. The point of a paring knife does a great job of getting the little black seeds out of the vanilla bean.

Pour the cooked rice into a large pot (drain off any left-over water first). Add the milk/cream mixture, and the sugar. Cook over medium heat for about 40 minutes stirring occasionally. You may notice that I used my spurtle for the stirring job. I hope the Gods of Oatmeal will forgive me for this. I have sacrificed plenty of Scotch at their altar, however, so maybe they'll turn a blind eye to this small transgression.

Once the pudding has thickened up a little, transfer it to serving bowls or ramekins. Use a 1/2 cup measure to do this, and try to be strategic, ensuring that each bowl has an equal mix of rice and liquid.

Fish out the vanilla beans :D while you make the transfer.

BUT WAIT! WHAT ABOUT THOSE RUMMY CURRANTS!

You're right, dear friend. Now is the time for them. I don't put them in while the pudding is cooking, since there is no point letting all that nice rum boil off. Add them now, about 1 teaspoon per bowl, and stir them in.

Let the puddings cool for a while, then cover them and put them in the fridge. I belong to the rice-pudding-should-be-cold camp, so I like it to go in the fridge. I hear you can eat it warm. This is not my speed, but you're welcome to do as you please.

Note that the milk will form a skin while the pudding cools This can be dealt with by a quick stir before serving. The recipe suggests plunking plastic wrap on the surface of the pudding before sticking it in the fridge, but you know me and plastic. Just stir it.

So there we are. A simple, rich, and delicous dish fit for a grandmother. Try it, you'll like it!