Encore – Butterscotch Pudding
We have just learned that today is National Butterscotch Pudding Day….sooooo this just seemed a good time so share this post with you again 🙂
“What do meatloaf and butterscotch pudding have to do with each other?” you may well be asking yourself. Unless you are me, the answer is most likely, “Nothing.”
The year was 1977 and I was married less than a year, pregnant, and horribly sick. I did not have morning sickness that lasted the usual first 3 months when one is expecting. I had all day and all night, constant, unrelenting nausea and vomiting, which I have since learned was due to something with a weird name that basically means I was highly allergic to being pregnant. Not to my precious daughter, Sara, but to whatever hormones my body was making to keep the pregnancy going. I was a mess.
I rarely left the house because the only thing worse than rushing in and out of my own bathroom, was having to do that in some public place….horrible! So when my husband, Randy, told me that he had accepted an invitation for the two of us to have dinner at the home of some of his college friends, I was reticent to go, to say the least. It wasn’t that I was trying to be anti-social, I just really wanted nothing to do with food.
Food in general made me sick. All food, even things I normally loved to eat, seemed repulsive to me during those 9 months. I can even tell you what the most popular food commercials were in late 1976 and early 1977…..Ragout Thick and Zesty was introduced and there was a flurry over Good Seasons Chicken. I had to turn down the volume on the TV and rush to the bathroom every time one of these TV ads came on, which was all day long, since these advertisers were seeking to appeal to women at home.
Growing up in a home with strong Southern influences, I had always loved food; loved to cook it, and loved to eat. Before I became pregnant, there really wasn’t anything I didn’t like….well, actually there were two things. I didn’t care for liver and I couldn’t stand meatloaf. My mother, who is a wonderful cook, made meatloaf regularly because my father and brothers loved it. In fact, everyone loved my mother’s meatloaf, and except for fried chicken, probably requested that more than any other thing she cooked. “I don’t understand why you don’t like it,” she would always say. “You like everything that goes into it.” I can’t explain it either, but the bottom line is, I only ate potatoes and salad on the nights my mother made meatloaf, which was at least a couple of times a month.
In the desire to give full disclosure to my husband Randy, I had told him early on in our relationship that as much as I loved cooking and would be glad to try to make anything he had a yearning for, I would not be making meatloaf, not ever! As much as he loved meatloaf, he accepted that, and said he knew what it was like to really hate something because he hated butterscotch pudding. Seems his grandmother made it almost every time he visited and required that he must eat all of it even though he had tried to make it clear that he didn’t care for butterscotch pudding. She felt if she had gone to the trouble to make something, he and his siblings should be polite and eat it. So I promised never to make butterscotch pudding OR meatloaf.
Now, let’s go back to that fateful night in 1977 when we were to be going to dinner at the home of some of Randy’s college friends whom I had met but certainly didn’t really know. He had accepted their kind invitation to dinner, probably in part because he was hungry and tired of takeout, since I couldn’t stand to look at food, much less cook it. He claims to this day that it was because he thought it would be good for me to get out of the house and be around people. At any rate, feeling guilty and sorry for him because I was so miserable, I agreed to go.
We had to stop twice for me to use the bathroom before we even got to our destination. When we arrived the front door opened and two things were unmistakable. Carolyn’s delight at seeing Randy again, and the powerful smell of meatloaf that came wafting out at me. I barely said “hello” and asked where the bathroom was.
While I was in the bathroom Randy had inquired what she had made for dinner, I’m sure he was hoping against all hope that he wasn’t smelling what he thought he was smelling. When she said it was meatloaf, he froze like a deer in the headlights. She asked if there was anything wrong and instead of just saying that I probably wouldn’t eat much because I had been feeling so ill, he engaged in what we have now come to call “nervous chatter”. In his nervousness at realizing what was about to happen when I saw meatloaf, he said the exact opposite of what he should have said. “Oh no Carolyn, nothing’s wrong. Meatloaf is Robin’s favorite.”
As soon as I reappeared our thoughtful hostess Carolyn suggested “Well let’s eat right away. I understand that being pregnant has made you not feel so well. Maybe having something in your stomach will help.” She showed us to our places at the table and the next thing I knew she came out of the kitchen beaming with a Paul Bunyan sized portion of meatloaf…..for me! “Randy told me it was your favorite” she said, “So I gave you extra. You are eating for two you know.”
I’m sure total terror must have struck Randy in that instant. To say I shot him a death stare does not begin to paint the picture of what really happened. I think actual daggers were visible, to him at least if not to the others at the table. All I could think was, “Is he trying to kill me? Why would he say such a thing?” For the next 20 minutes I tried desperately to move my meatloaf under my mashed potatoes or into my napkin, (it was paper thank goodness), and I made 3 trips to the bathroom to lose the bites I couldn’t avoid swallowing. “This is a nightmare”, I kept thinking. “How am I going to get through the rest of this evening?”
Finally, mercifully, everyone was finished. I jumped up and offered to help clear so I could hopefully scrape my plate in the trash before Carolyn could see how much was left on my plate.
While in the kitchen, Carolyn asked me if I would mind to help her serve dessert. “Of course I can. What did you make for dessert?” I was making small talk because I was still feeling sick from meatloaf and pregnancy combined and just wanted to finish up and go home as soon as possible.
Then justice was served. “Well I went around and around trying to decide what to make and finally landed on butterscotch pudding.” For the first time all evening I was feeling better….in fact, I was feeling elated. “Butterscotch pudding”, I said, “Carolyn how did you know that butterscotch pudding is Randy’s favorite!” She beamed. “What are the chances that I would just happen to make your favorite dinner and Randy’s favorite dessert? How lucky can a hostess be?” So I happily helped her serve and suggested that we put Randy’s portion in a vegetable serving bowl and cover it in whipped cream because “that’s the way he likes it.”
I came out of the kitchen all smiles and put in front of my unsuspecting husband the largest portion of butterscotch pudding anyone had ever had. But because it was covered in whipped cream he didn’t know what it was.
“Wow, why is mine so big?” he asked. “How did I get so lucky?” Then just as the spoon hit his lips I smiled a devilish smile and said ever so sweetly, “Because it’s your favorite honey, butterscotch pudding!”
We have laughed more times and harder over that story than probably any other in our 36 year marriage. The funny thing is, over time our tastes change……literally change. Scientists tell us that every 7 years our taste buds are all completely new and that is why we sometimes grow to like things we never liked before and vice versa. I have to believe this is true because against all odds I now will eat meatloaf (though I prefer it cold in a sandwich the next day) and Randy amazingly has come to truly like butterscotch pudding.
So whether you try them together for a main course and dessert at a meal or make them individually, enjoy these two recipes that have now become family favorites and while you are eating, have a good chuckle on us.
Butterscotch Pudding
1 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup cornstarch
2 ½ cups whole milk
1 egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 Tablespoons butter
In a sauce pan stir together cornstarch and brown sugar. Turn on heat and add milk. Stir continually over a medium flame until mixture begins to bubble and thicken. Add about ÂĽ cup of mixture to egg yolk and stir well to combine then return this to the pan. Continue stirring over a low flame until mixture is thickened and consistency of very heavy cream, this will take about 3-5 minutes. Turn off heat and add vanilla and butter. Stir until all the butter is melted. Pour into individual serving cups and refrigerate about 1 hour or up to 1 day before serving. Top with whipped cream and chopped pecans if desired. Delicious served with brown Sugar Shortbread.
Brown Sugar Shortbread
1 cup of butter (2 sticks)
1 cup of brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups of flour
Beat together butter, sugar and vanilla. Stir in the flour, being careful not to over mix. Dough will be a bit crumbly. Knead by hand to form a ball. Press into a circle about ½ inch thick on a parchment lined cookie sheet. Score with a fork into 12 pie shaped wedges.
Bake at 325 degrees for 30-40 minutes or just until it begins to brown. Do not over bake. Allow to cool completely and then cut into wedges where it has been scored. Enjoy!
Meatloaf
2 lbs. ground beef
1 white onion
2 carrots
1 green or red pepper
2 cloves garlic
½ bunch Italian (flat leaf) parsley
1 8oz. can tomato sauce
1 cup bread crumbs*
2 eggs
2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pepper
1 Tablespoon oregano
* you can also use corn flakes or puffed rice cereal for a wheat and gluten free substitute
Topping
1 ½ cups ketchup
½ cup brown sugar
Stir together and set aside
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What a fabulously funny story, dear Robin! I recall it from a couple years ago but loved reading it again. I hope Randy learned his lesson on honesty.
I still don’t like fried liver; however, I do enjoy chopped chicken liver on a corned beef sandwich at Langer’s Deli.
Thanks for the laugh, my dear. I needed that.
A good laugh is still the best medicine for all of us:-)