Food From the Compost Bin
Nothing to Eat With It!
I decided to make a rice pudding last weekend. I had been considering making one for a few weeks but just hadn't got around to it. (That reminds me of a joke about round tuits - have you heard it?)
I think of rice pudding as a traditional sort of British dessert or pudding. My grandmother made it with 2 tablespoons of short grain rice, 2 tablespoons of sugar and a pint of milk put in a buttered oven proof dish and baked slowly in the oven at gas mark 2 (300 degrees F or 150 degrees C) for at least 2 hours, maybe longer, until a lovely golden brown skin formed on top and the rice was cooked. I generally put the rice and milk in a saucepan and boil it up before pouring it into the buttered oven dish and I then bake it in the oven at gas mark 4 (350 / 180) for about an hour, stirring half way through to ensure the rice is distributed and then reducing the temperature to gas mark 2 until ready.
We used to have puddings at every dinner when the children were small but now they are grown up, we seldom have dessert. My husband was surprised to find the pudding in the oven and asked what was with it. I had been brought up to consider rice pudding as a complete dessert in itself but he HAD to have something with it. I offered the old children's favourites of jam or honey but they would not do. He wanted stewed apples. I didn't have any apples and suggested he might like to walk up to the shops and get some. He walked out of the door and returned 2 minutes later with 3 large cooking apples. We have apple trees in the garden but the fruit was picked over a month ago, so i asked where he had got them from.
The Compost Heap
He had thrown some of the bruised apples on the compost heap, so he had retrieved them. He peeled and chopped them and stewed them up with some sugar. We all had rice pudding and stewed apples, except for my granddaughter who likes rice pudding BY ITSELF!
Bank. coins: 2342 $3.51
Image Credit » https://pixabay.com/en/rice-pudding-rice-sweet-sweet-dish-480823/ by Catkin