Baked Rice Pudding

Pudding in serving bowls has extra milk added to it for a looser consistency.

Is it snowing where you are (again)? Do you live in a city where you can't make snow cream because you don't even have your own garden, much less a clean place to gather snow from? Are you also not really sure what snow cream even is?

JOIN THE CLUB and get on the rice pudding train with me. Rice pudding is a traditional pudding in the American sense of the word, a baked custard-rice mixture topped with cinnamon and nutmeg and it's awesome. I had never had rice pudding until I was well into my teenage years, and I don't really know why that is- I mean, it's never on the menu at restaurants, but why had no one I knew ever made it?

But anyway, it's not exactly a thing you want to serve at a party, and supermarkets in both the US and the UK always have the pre-made version in stock, so I guess it just never occurred to me to make my own, which is stupid because it's gotta be easy, right?

It is.

But what sets this version apart is that it's baked- while loads of recipes for baked rice pudding exist, I've definitely never had a baked version, but after this I might never go back. After combining the liquid ingredients with the rice, the whole thing is put in the oven for an hour, which is enough time to caramelise the top and dry out some of the excess liquid, making a thicker, denser finished pudding that's more like a crème brulée than a traditional rice pudding. If you prefer yours looser in texture, it's easy to add a drizzle of milk when you serve it to mimic the more common stovetop pudding varieties. Served straight from the oven, it was warming and cosy and a perfect afternoon snack to eat while we watched the snow fall... but I'd be lying if I told you I didn't eat it straight from the fridge the following morning for breakfast.

You should definitely make this pudding this week. Serve it hot or serve it cold, it's good either way. I'm already planning a version made with coconut rice and coconut milk, and I can't wait. This is comfort food perfect for when the weather outside has you never wanting to leave your house again, and the best part is that you probably have nearly all the ingredients in your refrigerator already.

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. Now that I know how easy rice pudding is to make, I'm gonna make it all the time.

One year ago: toll house marble squares
two years ago: Asian chicken two ways

the recipe:

Baked Rice Pudding

the directions:

Cook the rice according to the directions on the package- if you have a cinnamon stick, pop it in the rice pot to infuse the rice.
Once rice has cooked, drain any extra water, remove the cinnamon stick and refrigerate until needed to cool the rice so you don't scramble your eggs later.
Preheat oven to 400F/200C.
Beat eggs until light yellow and creamy, then add sugar.
Beat until smooth, then add the vanilla and ½ cup (118ml) milk.
Beat thoroughly until uniform consistency.
Add cooled rice gradually and beat on low speed approximately 1 minute until rice is broken up.
Add remaining 2 cups (470ml) milk and stir well to combine.
Mixture will be VERY liquid.
Pour into an 8-inch baking dish with high sides or a 9-inch dish (I used a tart pan).
Give it a stir in the pan to make sure the rice isn't clumped together.
Sprinkle top generously with nutmeg.
Fill a separate baking dish with water and place on the shelf below the pudding.
Bake 50-60 minutes until the middle jiggles only slightly when nudged (a knife inserted in the middle should come out sticky, but no liquid should leak from the hole).
Top will be quite browned and caramelised.
Serve immediately while warm or refrigerate and serve cold, either way with extra nutmeg or cinnamon on top and a drizzle more milk if needed to loosen.

the ingredients:

1 c (180g) uncooked white rice
1 cinnamon stick (optional)
3 eggs
1 c (200g) sugar (this makes a pretty sweet pudding; if you'd prefer it slightly less so, you can cut it to ¾ c)
2 ½ c (590ml) milk, divided
1 tbsp vanilla
Nutmeg

Apple Kuchen

It may be a new year but we've still got a Recipe Box full of mystery dishes and there's bound to be some disasters in there... so it should come as no surprise that I already found one, on only the second week of the year. The thing that DID come as a surprise to me is that this disaster is an apple tart recipe. In the history of my baking life (admittedly not an illustrious history, but a history nonetheless) I have neither baked nor tasted an apple dessert I do not like.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not an apple fanatic- I'd choose Anything With Frosting or Most Things with Chocolate over an apple dessert most days- but the great thing about apple desserts is how reliable they are. They're always tasty, they're always cosy and they make your house smell amazing when you bake them; you can reliably make one anytime of year without waiting for the fruit to be in season; they often work just as well for a luxurious breakfast as they do for a dinner-party worthy dessert; many taste as delicious warm from the oven as they do at room temperature; most people like them and I've never met anyone allergic to them to date.

All that said, I finally found an apple dessert that is just not worth it. I made this one recent frosty morning when outside was so cold that the ice on the ground still hadn't melted from days before and I just wanted something warming in my kitchen. This kuchen was supposed to do the trick but it lied to us, dear reader.

First of all, this cake requires that you make a dough (yes, a dough, not a batter) and then line a springform pan with it. This should have been hint #1 that things would quickly go south, but I thought I was experienced enough to handle a freeform tart so I went ahead with it. The dough is then pressed into the bottom of the springform and up the sides of it, but there wasn't nearly enough dough so it was almost impossible to get the dough more than ½-inch or so up the sides without making bald spots on the bottom of the pan. Once that's done, you fill the middle with a cooked-apple mixture you've already made, and which is so full of juice that the pan is basically just a bowl of liquid.

Then you bake it, praying the whole time that it doesn't leak hot caramelised apple liquid onto the bottom of your oven (for once, it didn't!) and when it's done, you try to saw through it with every serrated knife you own. The cake portion of this cooked up thin and crunchy, but, like, not in a good way. The texture was cardboard-y and flavourless, except for the filling. The really unfortunate part about this kuchen is that the filling is actually delicious... so delicious that we may or may not have scooped the apple-cherry filling out and stirred it into a bowl of porridge for breakfast on the morning after I made this ill-fated recipe... and again every day until we ran out of filling.

As always, despite the fact that it's a disaster, I'm including the full recipe. Don't make this cake, but if you're in the mood for the best porridge of your life, make this filling. It works on pancakes, in porridge, in yoghurt and also probably in ice cream, but I didn't get around to testing that for sure before I ran out of filling.

If you're on the hunt for a better apple recipe, check out the others (all better than this!) over here.

The verdict:

2 spoons out of five. I can't give it any less because of how good that filling was, man.

After making a Load of newspaper recipes from this box, it's a little embarrassing how fast i was able to identify the woman on the bottom right as Betty crocker.

One year ago: crazy crust apple pie
two years ago: Happy New Year!

the recipe:

Apple Kuchen

the directions:
filling:

Simmer apple slices and raisins or cherries in just enough water to cover them until apples are just tender but still retain their shape (about 10 minutes).
Meanwhile, combine sugar, cinnamon and orange zest.
Drain fruit, then stir sugar mixture into fruit.
This will immediately make a syrup, but that's ok.

dough:

Preheat oven to 210C/425F and grease an 8-inch springform pan.
Sift together flour, baking powder, salt and sugar.
Work in butter by mixing at low speed.
Beat in eggs, then stir in milk JUST until combined.
Spread dough on bottom and up sides of prepared springform pan.
Pour fruit mixture into pan along with any syrup that has formed.
Bake 45-50 minutes, until crust is deep golden and filling is firm-ish and bubbly.

the ingredients:
the filling:

5 c (600g) apples, peeled, cored & sliced thinly
½ c (75g) golden raisins or dried cherries
2/3 c (134g) sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tbsp orange zest

he dough:

1 c (120g) flour
½ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
2 tbsp sugar
2 ½ tbsp (35g) butter
2 eggs, beaten
2 tbsp milk

Pope Ladies, or, Sour Cream Yeasted Rolls

When I first found the recipe for Pope Ladies in the Recipe Box, I giggled at the name, then I read the description: 'traditional fare for New Year's Day,' and I couldn't stop giggling because obviously these were some kind of joke made up by Betty Crocker, right? Wrong. I know it's too late for you to make your own Pope Ladies for THIS New Year's Day, but since they are also traditionally served on Lady Day (March 25, the day Mary found out she was pregnant), I figured I'd give you a head start on all your Lady Day preparations.

Pope Ladies, as it turns out, originate from St Albans, a small town in Hertfordshire, England. Apparently, ever since medieval times, people in St Albans have been eating these buns each year on 1 January and 25 March. There are conflicting stories as to how they came about: one legend says that a noblewoman and her group of attendants were lost in the forest when they came upon a monastery in St Albans- by way of thanks to the monks who saved her, the noblewoman gave them a substantial monetary reward, which they used to bake lady-shaped rolls to feed the poor. Since they were monks, the rolls became known as 'pope ladies.'

This is literally the diagram I had to follow along with the directions. For once i think mine came out better than the picture!

An ok story, but it doesn't really do much to explain the name, which is why I prefer to believe the other story (though I'm quite sure Eleanor, a devout Catholic, would probably not). The second version of the story states that the rolls are named for Pope Joan, an apocryphal and (probably) mythical female pope born in 818AD. Although it's now thought that Joan was a myth, the legend said that she was only discovered to be a women when she stopped in the middle of a parade to give birth, and was shortly thereafter murdered because of it. This legend first gained traction in the 1200s, roughly the same time as Pope Ladies came about, so it's also thought they might have Joan to thank for their name.

Either way, this particular batch of Pope Ladies is not quite made in the traditional manner- usually they would be made with scalded milk, not sour cream and usually they would have eyes made from currants and a tiny dough nose. But I was making these while drinking a prosecco cocktail last night shortly before heading out to a pub with Judson and friends and I completely forgot the faces until they were in the oven. Oops.

These are best straight from the oven, when the outside is crusty and firm and the interior is soft and plush, but they reheat well and are pretty good at treating a hangover as well. The dough is forgiving and easy to work with, and if, for some reason, you have the willpower to make food in your kitchen today, I'd recommend you whip yourself up a batch of Pope Ladies and then call all your hungover friends to come eat them with you while you tell them stories about medieval feminist popes. If your friends are anything like mine, they... probably won't be too surprised.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. They're absolutely perfect when fresh from the oven, but not quite as good when reheated so I'm knocking off a spoon because they need to be eaten promptly.

one year ago: crazy crust apple pie
two years ago: happy new year!

The recipe:

Pope Ladies

the directions:

Dissolve yeast in water in mixing bowl, then set aside.
Heat sour cream over very low heat just until it melts and is lukewarm.
Add warm sour cream, butter, sugar, salt, ONLY ONE egg and 1 cup of flour to yeast mixture.
Beat until smooth.
Add remaining 2 cups of flour and mix until dough comes away from the sides of the bowl.
Knead dough on a well-floured surface until smooth, about 10 minutes (alternatively, if you have a dough hook for your mixer, beat on very low speed for approximately 3 minutes).
Grease the mixing bowl, put dough back into it and turn once so greased side is facing up.
Cover tightly and put in a very warm place to rise 1 hour (or if you live in a drafty Scottish flat, up to overnight).
When dough has doubled in size, punch down and form your Pope Ladies:
Preheat oven to 190C/375F and grease 2 baking sheets.
Divide dough into 12 pieces.
Form half of each piece into an oval-shaped body approximately 4 inches long, lay on baking sheet.
Divide remaining piece of dough in half again and roll one piece into a long thin snake approximately 4 inches long.
Lay this piece in a U-shape around one end of the 'body' to form arms.
Take remaining piece of dough and form into a ball for the head.
Place head ahove arms body on your baking sheet (they'll rise enough in the oven to attach as long as they are touching).
Repeat until you are out of dough, keeping Pope Ladies spaced apart at least 3 inches on your baking sheet.
Beat remaining egg with a fork and brush over the ladies, taking care to avoid large drips.
Bake 12-15 minutes until golden brown.
 

Serve warm, best straight from the oven.

the ingredients:

2 ¼ tsp active dry yeast
¼ c warm water
1 c sour cream
2 tbsp butter
8 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
2 eggs
3 c flour, divided