It's no secret that I heart coconut, and I must admit that I've come to accept that some people just don't like it. Fine. Their loss, and more for me.
But pudding? Who doesn't like pudding? That's like claiming you don't like rainbows, or puppies, or bright sunny days.
To me, pudding has always represented all that is cozy and secure and right with the world. All pudding wants, when you get right down to it, is to make you happy.
My neighbors told me they didn't like pudding a few months ago. After a dinner party I took some out of the fridge and begged them to try. One arched her eyebrow unnaturally high, but tasted. Nothing. She just didn't get the appeal. The other made such a horrid face you'd think I'd poisoned her. (This was Kozy Shack pudding, not homemade, but still -- it's so good.)
When Colin and I lived in Paris in early 1995, we always had rice pudding in the fridge. It had a super-creamy texture and subtly haunting flavor I haven't been able to replicate since.
So when I came across a promising rice pudding recipe on the beautiful food blog Cannelle-Vanille, I swooned. Last night I finally made it, and rainbows, puppies, and bright sunny days appeared out of nowhere. It was wonderful -- pure, milky, and completely satisfying. Here's the recipe:
Compliments should go to Aran, the recipe's creator. But pudding rants and raves belong right here.