When the skies are grey, when the world, despite so many bodies crushed together, feels like a vast and lonely place, when life feels irreparably off kilter, rice pudding can always be relied upon to set everything to rights. Rice pudding is British nursery food at its very best.
As a child I would visit my grandparents in Wales each summer with my family and this is one dessert that I always remember my Nana making. As an adult, and without her recipe, I attempted to make my own. Nana baked hers so that’s where I too, began. The only problem with this method is that while the gloriously crisp and golden brown skin that forms on top, looks magnificent, secretly I hate it. So I embarked upon a stovetop version – to much improvement – even while perfection proved elusive. I tried a variety of rices: jasmine, basmati, arborio — but nothing quite worked.
Then one day, randomly, I spotted medium grain rice at the supermarket and figured that given its perfect position between short grain and long grain, it should be given the opportunity to audition in my personal rice pudding screen test. And wouldn’t you know, it performed magnificently. A polished and elegant combination of creaminess and toothiness and I have used nothing else since.
Over the years I’ve played around endlessly with the milk/cream combo I like best and have settled on half whole milk and half cream. Roughly. You have miles of wiggle room here. It’s not quite rich enough if you use only 2% milk (although maybe not a bad choice for some) while half 2% and half whole milk is perfectly adequate. But, if I’m planning ahead, half whole milk and half cream provide the perfect Oscar winning performance — although I will certainly adapt depending on what’s in my fridge and my level of desperation.
I like my rice pudding with a hint of lemon, so I throw in a strip of lemon peel which will gloriously scent the milk and cream as it cooks. A split vanilla bean is good too, if there’s one to hand. If not tip in some vanilla paste or extract. And for good measure it’s served with a dollop of jam — blackcurrant is my favourite, but raspberry works well too.
Rice pudding can, of course, be gussied up with all manner of spices and the like: cinnamon, nutmeg, raisins. A drop of rosewater lends a Middle Eastern spin and a splash of rum removes it from the nursery altogether. When you’re trying to set the world to rights, this is a choose-your-own-adventure affair.
And while I think the pudding tastes best fresh out of the pan, still hot, I am always delighted to discover leftovers in the fridge at breakfast.
~Rice Pudding~
- medium grain rice – 1/2 cup
- water – 1 cup
- salt – pinch
- milk and cream – 2-1/2 cups in your preferred combination
- sugar – 1/3 cup
- lemon peel – strip
- vanilla bean, split or splash of vanilla extract
Bring the water, rice and salt to a boil and simmer gently until most of water is absorbed, about 5 minutes.
Add your milk/cream combo, sugar, vanilla bean/extract, and lemon peel and bring to a lively simmer, uncovered and stirring regularly, for about 18 minutes — at least that’s how long it generally takes me. The rice should be cooked (I like mine slightly al dente) and the milk and cream should have thickened slightly.
Add a spoonful of jam and curl up with a big bowl, a blanket, and a good book. Bask in the knowledge that the world is now a better place.
Recipe can easily be doubled.
