Coconut Cardamon Rice Pudding

I have no great dreams to report this morning, so I’ll jump back into recipe-sharing. I felt the need for some comfort food for breakfast, and this is what I came up with. There must be thousands of ways to make rice pudding, and I hope to live long enough to try most of them. This combination’s definitely one to revisit though.

Coconut Cardamon Rice Pudding

• 2 1/2 cups rice milk, plain
• 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 1/3 cup basmati rice
• 1 heaping teaspoon fresh orange zest
• 1/4 teaspoon cardamon
• 2 eggs
• 1/8 to 1/4 cup dark brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon tapioca starch
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1/2 shelled pistachios
• 1/2 cup raw cashews

In a small saucepan combine rice milk, butter, salt, rice, coconut, orange zest, and cardamon. Stir together. Bring to a boil, then cover and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring frequently. 

In a small bowl, whisk eggs with brown sugar and tapioca starch. While continuing to whisk, mix a tablespoon of the hot rice mixture into the egg mixture and blend well. Repeat this three more times. Then add mixture to the saucepan and stir well. Turn heat to a lower setting and cook, uncovered, until pudding has thickened a bit, around 20 minutes, give or take a few. Watch carefully and stir often during this time. Do not allow to boil, or eggs will likely separate. 

While the pudding gently cooks, shell pistachios and dry roast cashews in a pan on the stovetop, over medium-high heat. Stir cashews often so they don’t burn. When the pudding is finished thickening, stir in the vanilla, remove from heat, add both kinds of nuts, mix, and serve. 

Feeds 2 generously and up to 4 adequately.

Dreaming of c (jane)

I have a small backlog of recipes to post, and also it occurs to me that the dream snippets I keep meaning to share here are piling up. In the spirit of “the last shall be first,” I’ll start with a dream I had this afternoon while I was taking a sick-day nap. 

I dreamed of c jane one other time, right before she turned 30 in 2007. It was one of those stunning little night visions that make you sit up and take notice (kind of like c jane herself), a dream that says, “Hey, sleepyhead, you really want to take a closer look at me. No kidding. You won’t be sorry. Come on, say it with me now: payoff.” I shared my dream with her as a sort of birthday present (am I cheap or what?), and she seemed as moved by it as I was. The interpretations we came up with, independently of each other, agreed. I still think of that dream with wonder. I won’t post it here, but I will ramble about today’s dream a bit.

(And by the way, this was not one of my pizza dreams; it played out on an empty, pre-lunch stomach.)

Today in Slumberland I was once again with c jane in her world, this time in her own home and not her parents’. I was a guest staying there and got to view her in her element, functioning as a new mother. I didn’t get to see or interact much myself with c jane, but knew she was there at home, wrapped up in the Chief, in her family.

In one room I saw two of her nieces, Claire and Jane, sitting side-by-side, a little younger than I’d have expected them to be in person, and exactly the same size. They were busily talking and didn’t notice me. In another room, the bathroom, I saw a dirty dipe left standing upright, apparently where the Chief was last in it when his mama changed his bum, and the dipe was surprisingly bigger than newborn size. Age and size, like everything else in dreams, are not confined by any of the waking-life rules. Chronological order? Linear growth? So passé! The house was quiet as I walked through. I came to a room that smelled like a fresh cleanser; there was a mop and a bucket and a vacuum, and signs of in-process scrubbing, though again, I didn’t happen upon c jane in person. I thought to myself, “She’s doing alright,” and admired that she was finding energy to begin multi-tasking. Caring for a new baby and managing to clean even one room? I don’t know about you, but to me, that’s impressive.

The last part of the dream that hasn’t fuzzed beyond my remembrance is the part where I walked into another room and found a tape recorder. I pushed PLAY and listened to c jane sing “Song for the Mira” in the most wonderfully lovely voice. I’m guessing that just about all of you who read this will have no association with this song. It’s a folk song sung in Nova Scotia, very sweet, very sentimental in the best kind of way. I learned it recently while playing guitars with some women from my ‘hood; my friend Sherry taught it to us. She wanted to learn it because it was a song her father strummed and sang to her when she was growing up, and now that she has two baby girls and is taking up guitar she wants to be able to play and sing it to them. It really is dear. Anyhow, c jane sang it so clearly and melodically. For me that song has come to represent a deep and magical parental love-bond, thanks to my friend. I know c jane occasionally loves to belt her favorite tunes and is a great fun sport about her infamous diva-bility, but I’m telling you, folks, in my dream, her voice was unadorned, perfectly on-key, flowing, and beautiful. I thought to myself that her children would grow up thinking she sang with the loveliest voice in the world. 

And for them, she will.

Song for the Mira
by Allister MacGillivray

Out on the Mira on warm afternoons
Old men go fishing with black line and spoons
And if they catch nothing they never complain
And I wish I was with them again

As boys in the boats call to girls on the shore
Teasing the ones that they dearly adore
And into the evening the courting begins
And I wish I was with them again

(chorus)
Can you imagine a piece of the universe
More fit for princes and Kings
I’ll trade you ten of your cities For Marion Bridge
And the pleasure it brings

Out on the Mira on soft summer nights
Bonfires blaze to the children’s delight
They dance round the flames singing songs with their friends
And I wish I was with them again.

And over the ashes the stories are told
Of witches and werewolves and Oak Island gold
Stars on the riverface sparkle and spin
I wish I was with them again

(chorus)

Out on the Mira, the people are kind
They’ll treat you to homebrew, and help you unwind
And if you come broken they’ll see that you mend
I wish I was with them again

Now I’ll conclude with a wish you go well
Sweet be your dreams, and your happiness swell
I’ll leave you here for my journey begins
I’m going to be with them again