Creamy Rice Pudding (Two Ways)

They say good things come in small packages, but in my case the best things come in large paper shopping bags. The first time it happened, three years ago, my dear friend Stephen Facey gave me a large shopping bag filled with the recipe collection of his late mother Olive. Then, just last week, the renowned food maven Arthur Schwartz handed me a large shopping bag filled with the letters and recipes sent in by listeners during the 13 years he hosted Food Talk, a daily radio show on WOR.

What a treasure! So many of the letters gush gratitude for Arthur. To say he was beloved by his listeners is an understatement. (I'd have to agree. Not only is he engaging and charming, but also generous -- he created and taught a cooking class for women living in one of Henry Street Settlement's homeless shelters, even purchasing for each student some basic kitchen equipment they lacked.)

A small sampling of the cache is below, letters and recipes thoughtfully written on cards and stationery, as if to a close friend, and mailed the old-fashioned way, with nary an email missive among them. One listener wrote: "As an octogenarian, I wish to thank you for reviving in me holiday memories of my mother's kitchen. How she would have loved you! I will love you for her!" Another letter contains, in addition to a recipe, "An Irish prayer for Arthur and his family."

For my first foray into this well-organized (thank you, Arturo!) collection, I chose a rice pudding sent in by Arlene Gerhab,who wrote: "I enjoy your WOR programs each day. Being Pennsylvania Dutch, we love to cook. Here is my favorite rice pudding -- have used this recipe for 40 years. Everyone loves it and it's been a favorite of many of my friends."

This is, hands down, the best rice pudding I've ever tasted. It has very little sugar, but you won't miss it. It's not the basic rice pudding the DH used to make when he worked in a deli on the Upper East Side (simply cook rice, milk, raisins and sugar together), but is well worth the extra effort.

I made this twice (hence the "Two Ways" in the title of this post) because the first time, instead of concentrating on the recipe, I was texting a friend in the midst of a divorce, and didn't follow the method. See production notes at the end for details.

To do it right, start by boiling the rice in some water, and then drain it.

Pour the whole milk into the rice.

Mix together the eggs, sugar, cornstarch, salt and evaporated milk.

Add this mixture gradually to the rice and milk, and cook over low heat, stirring until it comes to a boil. The recipe is vague after this. Keep cooking it if you prefer a firmer rice pudding.

Below are the two versions. On the left is the "mistake" to which I later added cinnamon and raisins. The mistake was preferred by the DH.

Rice pudding production notes: The first time I made this, I forgot to add the evaporated milk to the egg mixture, and just added to the pot after the other ingredients were in and cooking. I cooked it for a longer time after it came to a boil (as it was too liquid-y at that point) and it was delicious.
The second time, when I followed the exact method, I didn't cook it as long (the instructions are vague), it came out much looser (creamier) which I prefer. If you like your pudding to hold together more, just cook it longer after it comes to a boil -- about 15 to 20 minutes total, I'd guess. Or longer if you like it even firmer. The consistency won't change dramatically when it cools.
Either way, you can't go wrong! (You might also want to use a three-quart saucepan, instead of a two-quart, as when I made the full recipe the first time, it almost boiled over.  The second time, I made half the recipe.)
The recipe calls for a 13-ounce can of evaporated milk, but these days only 12-ounce cans are available -- it will work fine with the smaller amount.
The vanilla and lemon zest add a nice flavor note. You can add raisins (or not) and a sprinkle of cinnamon makes for a nice presentation.

Arlene Gerhab's Rice Pudding

1 quart of milk (four cups)
1 12 oz. can evaporated milk
1 cup rice (I used white rice)
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 T. cornstarch
pinch of salt
1 t. vanilla
lemon zest

In a two or three quart saucepan, bring one cup of rice and four cups of water to a boil.
Turn off heat, cover and let sit for 20 minutes
Drain the water and add one quart of milk.
In a small bowl, combine eggs, evaporated milk, sugar, salt and cornstarch.
Gradually add this mixture to the rice.
Cook on low heat stirring constantly until it comes to a boil.
Continue cooking until it reaches desired consistency.
Pour into a bowl to cool.
Add vanilla and lemon zest.

Ann's Irish Soda Bread

This simple vintage recipe for Irish Soda Bread is simply the best I've ever made.  And I'm not a fan of Irish Soda Bread (where's the butter?), but hot from the oven, this is moist and delicious.  And addicting.  It's so good that I may make this for the DH to bring to work on Monday, instead of the modern-day Ina Garten recipe I'd planned to use.

I put it together this morning in about ten minutes.  Put the dry ingredients in a bowl and mix them together.

Measure out the raisins.  I dusted lightly with flour to prevent them from sinking in the bread, but you can add them to the flour mixture and skip this step.

Put the buttermilk in a measuring cup, add the egg and mix together.

The dough is a bit sticky, and despite the recipe instruction, no kneading required.

Place in a greased eight-inch cake pan and press down.  I used gloved hands to do this; you can use the back of a large spoon.

About 35 minutes later, you'll have this.

Remove from the pan,

slice and enjoy.

Here's the original recipe card.  I made half the recipe, used butter instead of margarine and skipped the poppy seeds as I didn't have any.  Below the card is the method I used.

Ann's Irish Soda Bread

Preheat oven to 375F
Grease an 8-inch cake pan

2 c. all purpose flour
2 T. sugar
1/2 t. baking soda
1/2 T baking powder
3 T unsalted butter
3/4 c buttermilk
1 egg
1 c raisins

Mix dry ingredients in a bowl.  Blend.  Add softened butter and mix until incorporated.  Add raisins.
Mix buttermilk and egg together.  Add to bowl.  Blend until just incorporated -- do not overmix.
Spoon into pan and flatten.  Bake about 35 minutes.

Grandmother's Famous Cranberry Bread

Are old recipes better than modern ones?  Is gingerbread made from a 100-year-old recipe tastier and more authentic than one conceived last year in the test kitchen of Saveur?  Many of us share a fascination with the past (culinary and otherwise), viewing what came before through a lens that often obscures any difficulty and struggle. Even though I'm probably guiltier than most, trying to uncover and discover forgotten tastes of years gone by, I do think that what we eat (and what we cook) reflects the era in which we live, much like theater or really, any of the arts, do. But there's something to be said for those recipes that endure, passed down through generations or, in the case of this cranberry bread, disseminated more widely via flea markets and estate and eBay sales.  

Cranberry Bread (Grandmother's Famous) is truly a treasure from the past.  And perfect for the Thanksgiving table, or the morning after.  Cranberries can be frozen (just add frozen to any recipe), so it's a good way to use up any leftover berries. It's fairly simple to make, not overly sweet (typical of older recipes) and really delicious. And it's so festive-looking, a moist yellow cake studded with the bright red berries.

The orange zest and juice and the cranberries give this bread its wonderful flavor profile (though I'm sure grandmother squeezed her own orange juice).

This bread is made rather unconventionally. The butter is cut into the dry ingredients (think pie crust method) which I did in the food processor, and then the wet ingredients are blended in (done in the Kitchen Aide).

Pour into a prepared pan.  I used one of those new-fangled baking sprays, which is a combination of fat and flour. Alternately, simply grease and flour the pan.

Bake longer than you think is necessary, at least an hour. Remove from the oven and let cool somewhat on a wire rack before turning the bread out to finish cooling.

Production notes: I followed this recipe exactly, except I accidentally bought dark rather than light raisins. And I also did not chop the cranberries, a tedious and unnecessary task. To prevent the cranberries and raisins from sinking to the bottom of the batter, lightly flour them before adding. This would be excellent if you substitute the raisins (I am not a fan) with a cup of chopped walnuts.