Food for OCD kids

Some things in life shouldn't be rushed. They should be done slowly, deliberately, intentionally. For instance... pudding.

I am convinced that instant pudding is symbolic of the decline of our once great American culture. There is no real work required, no anticipation, no pleasant aromas wafting through the kitchen, no connection with the food you are preparing. You don't have to wait for it to cool and set before you eat it. Most importantly, no delayed gratification. All you do is mix it with some milk, give it a shake, and gorge yourself.

Heck, you can buy the stuff pre-made in its own single serve cup now! Unbelievable...

I love cooked pudding, while it is still warm. Poured over a bowl of fresh peaches. Mmmmmmmm.

I think my mom instilled in me this love of pudding, and the process of cooking it. I have fond memories of making pudding when I was a kid. And by "memories," you should read "vague childhood recollections, half of which are likely completely fabricated." Since I can't really even remember what happened last week, much less 20 years ago, my childhood memories are probably largely fiction. But life is more entertaining that way...

Mom would entice me with the lure of a tasty desert, on the one condition that I had to participate in cooking it. She would fill up a pot with milk, pour in the pudding mix, and give me specific instructions, read directly from the box...

"It says 'heat on medium while stirring constantly until boiling.' Hear that Jason? 'Stir c-o-n-s-t-a-n-t-l-y.' Or your pudding won't turn out right!"

Then she would set the stove to what I am now convinced was the lowest possible setting that qualified as medium. And leave me to stir for approximately 73 minutes, while she went off and actually got something accomplished. I think she inadvertently discovered that cooking pudding was the near perfect task to keep a hyper little boy, with slight obsessive compulsive tendencies and a serious sweet tooth, occupied for a good long time.

I didn't realize this until I got married, and one day suggested that we cook some pudding. My first clue should have been my wife's response of "Cook pudding? You know they make instant pudding now, right?" But I insisted that cooked was superior, and got some fresh peaches to go with it. Then proceeded to begin cooking my pudding on a setting slightly above "low," with intense concentration on my stirring technique, honed by years of boyhood practice, to ensure that the pudding remained in motion at all times.

I believe this reduced my dear wife to tears of laughter. "This is how you cook pudding!!!" I insisted. More laughter. "Really, my mom always had me make pudding like this. You have to cook it suuuper-slow. Otherwise it doesn't turn out right!" Side-splitting laughter.

Says Paige... "I hate to break it to you... but I am pretty sure your mom just used pudding to keep you occupied so she could get a moment's peace."

Dang...

A boyhood memory... crushed...

Thing is... I still think cooked pudding is superior. And every once in a while, I find an excuse to make it. And my wife still laughs at my silent concentration as I stir my pudding. Enough so that she takes pictures of me doing it...

And I still think it is best with fresh fruit, while still warm and just starting to set up...

Even Ella enjoyed it, although she attempted to make grumpy faces...

But couldn't hold back the pudding goodness smiles for long...


Someday maybe I will teach her how to cook pudding. The way my mom taught me... ;)