The proof is in the pudding

A few weeks after we got married, Paul asked me* to make rice pudding. I’d never made it before but found an American recipe and got to cooking. The result was a happy me – because it turned out just as I would expect an American version of rice pudding to turn out – and an unhappy Paul** – because it was nothing like he expected.

This exercise resulted in two things: (1) I learned that there was a difference between American and British rice puddings and (2) Paul took over all subsequent responsibilities for making rice pudding in our home.

This didn’t bother me because I’m a bit indifferent toward rice pudding. And since I don’t really think about rice pudding, I’ve not had it since Paul died. After all, no one was there to cook it for me!

But today I cleaned out the kitchen cupboard and found a bag of [hideously out-dated] pudding rice and a container of [not as out-dated] Bird’s Custard. So I decided to try my hand at rice pudding again, with the aid of my Mrs Beeton’s cookbook.

Of course, I didn’t have any milk so had to use powdered milk. And I didn’t have any lemon rind so had to use a splash of bottled lemon juice.

The result? Well, let’s just say Paul would not have been pleased and would have reminded me that this is why he is in charge of making rice pudding. Oh well, you can’t say I didn’t try. And it was good enough for me so it wasn’t a total failure.

* Not in an “I am man, therefore I am boss” kind of way but in an “If you’re taking requests, I would love” kind of way.
** He wasn’t upset with me, he was just underwhelmed because he was anticipating a childhood favourite and he got, well, something very different!