Single-Serving Vegan Rice Pudding

When I woke up this morning, all I could hear was the tapping of rain against my window. I pulled down my blinds to see soggy grey clouds and umbrellas shuffling down the street; it made me immediately fall back into bed and pull the sheets over my head. Cold was already kissing at my cheeks. Schoolwork was already causing a tension headache. It felt like nothing could drag me out of bed. And then it donned on me, the comfiest of southern comforts that could revive even the most weather-worn northerners trapped in the south: RICE PUDDING.

The first time I can recall having rice pudding was about nine years ago. I was in North Carolina for a film festival, and one morning, there was a panel with a buffet trimmed in all the southern standards. I had just gone vegetarian a few months before, so the pickings were slim: drippy bacon over here, messy biscuits'n'gravy over there, home fries flecked with putrid pink ham. What was a vegetarian to do? But there, hidden in the corner, were these fluffy, fragrant dishes of gelatinous rice cozied with juicy little raisins that just called to me. Within one bite, I was hooked. My mouth reveled in the harmonies of flavors and textures, hints of cinnamon and cardamom mixed in a sweet cream delicately punctuated with rice grains. Oh, this was southern comfort, at its finest.

Suffice it to say, southern comfort is what makes me feel better about life down south, so rice pudding was definitely in order today. The best part about rice pudding is, it's extraordinarily easy to make. Even better, it's soooo adaptable. I make mine with brown rice and unsweetened soymilk so it's just as much about nutrition as it is about taste - and suitable for breakfast or dessert. I also make it without sugar. This recipe is single-serving because I've been super into single-serving dishes lately; they mean I don't have to worry about mindlessly snacking on leftovers, but more importantly, I can vary the recipe if I want to make it again. Thus, I offer a short list of variations afterward that I encourage you to experiment with. Get bold and come up with your own flavor combinations. (Then come back and tell me about them...)

Happy cooking!


SINGLE-SERVING VEGAN RICE PUDDING (REGULAR & SUGAR-FREE OPTION)

+ 1/2 c water
+ 1/4 c rice*
+ 1/4 c non-dairy milk
+ 1/2 t cornstarch
+ 1 packet Purevia**
+ 1/2 t vanilla

* I recommend short-grain brown rice. While more toothsome than its white counterpart, it has more starch than long-grain, making it more fluffy and sticky while still maintaining the health benefits of brown rice.
** I happened to have some packets lying around from a restaurant and didn't want to futz with figuring how much Stevia. If you want to use good ol' fashioned sugar - or sucanat or agave or maple syrup or whatever - 2 T should be about right.


01. In a pot on high heat, bring the water to a boil. Add the rice, cover, reduce the heat, and let simmer for about fifteen minutes. After fifteen minutes, there should still be a little bit of water but not much - at least, this is the case with brown rice.

02. Whisk together the soymilk and cornstarch before adding them to the pot of rice. Then add your sweetener and vanilla, raise the heat to about medium, and stir constantly as it comes to its second boil. Reduce the heat and return the lid, keeping a watchful eye and stirring occasionally to prevent any burning or clumping.

03. When your pudding looks ever so slightly thinner than your "ideal" pudding texture, pull it from the stove and switch it to the fridge. (It will thicken as it cools.) Be sure to use a wire shelf/remember to put a pot holder beneath your pot! If you want to enjoy your pudding warm, it only needs to sit in the fridge for maybe three minutes. Otherwise, give it at least an hour before savoring most serenely.



VARIATIONS
coconut rice pudding: substitute coconut milk for your usual "milk." Sprinkle with cinnamon and serve with sliced bananas.

chocolate rice pudding: when adding the milk and cornstarch, throw in a tablespoon of cocoa powder, too. For a richer chocolate experience, add 1/4 - 1/2 t almond extract, and for REALLY decadent rice pudding, toss in 1 - 2 T chocolate chips. To make it seasonal, try peppermint extract instead of almond.

berry rice pudding: in the last five for ten minutes, toss in a handful of your favorite frozen berries and maybe 1/2 t lemon juice. Give 'em a gentle stir, and let their flavors BURST onto every rice grain. This would be an excellent way to start the day.

chai rice pudding: add 1/2 t cinnamon, 1/4 t cardamom, and a splash of ginger, clove, pepper, and nutmeg when adding the milk. You might also try mixing chai concentrate with the milk before adding it or cooking the rice in brewed chai tea instead of water.

pumpkin rice pudding: mix together 1/8 c pumpkin puree with 1/8 c soymilk and omit the cornstarch. Use brown sugar as a sweetener and add 1/2 - 1 t pumpkin pie spice. Perhaps substitute (or add!) almond extract for vanilla.

Indian rice pudding: substitute the coconut milk for your usual "milk," and add a handful of raisins in the last five or ten minutes of cooking. Serve with a dash of cardamom and ground pistachios.

lemon rice pudding: add the finely ground zest of one lemon along with the water when cooking the rice. When adding the milk, add 1 - 2 tsp rum/rum extract. To make it a little fruitier, add dried cranberries in the last five or ten minutes of cooking, or serve with fresh raspberries or strawberries.

Italian rice pudding: add a splash of amaretto with the milk (or almond extract and a half t sugar). Then throw in chopped or finely ground hazelnuts (about a handful) five minutes before serving. Enjoy lightly dusted with cocoa and cinnamon with a soy latte on the side.



How do you make your rice pudding?

Gingerbread: One Cookie, Two Ways

If you're trying to suggest that's a color theory exercise under there, you'd be correct. Check out my flickr if you're curious about what I do at art school all damn day.
We make it into houses, we make it into people, we make it into disagreements: ahhh, gingerbread, that classic cookie for chilly weather* that quickly polarizes people. Some folks swear by gingerbread; it's the taste of fir trees and snowmen and foil-wrapped packages bursting with bows. Just saying the word puts them in flannel pajamas in front of a fire with Nat Cole crooning on the stereo and a mug of hot chocolate in their hand. Other people detest it, though. It's spicy; it's overpowering; it tastes like the cardboard carrying a crate of cinnamon candles to a holiday shop, and it's got a texture to match. Few cookies get the mixed reviews of grins and grimaces the way gingerbread does, but a few simple adjustments is all these cookies need to find some common ground between the two camps.

I don't often make gingerbread - this time of year or otherwise. I'm a little more, "Gingerbread? Gross!" than I am, "Gingerbread? Great!" I think it's the way the molasses typically punctuates the spices. Together, they probably have some chemical interaction like wine and cheese that exaggerates the molasses and spice flavors, making them group-pop in a way I find distasteful. If I can especially taste the molasses, I just keep passing the cookie tray. But then, I came across an inspired idea: cocoa gingerbread cookies. I gasped. Pairing my favorite flavor with the flavors of my favorite season? Uhh, hello, sign me up! I quickly made an excuse to whip up a batch, and they were good in all the ways I imagined them to be. Yes, they were good - good but not great. These cookies were one ingredient away from absolute greatness. What these cookies really needed were some chocolate chips.

I wanted to make some improved chocolate gingerbread cookies ASAP, but when I had a no-chocolate friend coming into town, I was very torn. On the one hand, I really wanted to justify making these cookies again, but on the other, I couldn't bake something that excluded my friend. I felt silly making chocolate gingerbread cookies plus something else, so I groped for some middle ground. I got to stroking my invisible beard - made long, deep pulls at it because this was a quandry requiring some serious contemplation, and you could only grasp how serious by imagining some very dramatic beard tugging. Then it hit me: pumpkin gingerbread cookies. Yes, of course, pumpkin gingerbread cookies! - because pumpkin and ginger go well together in every other baked good on the planet (muffins, cakes, pies, scones...), and my roommate had half a can of pumpkin in the fridge that was going to waste! Plus, I had a bunch of raisins I wanted to use up, so pumpkin gingerbread cookies would sort of be a hero.

And, oh, heroes they were. In fact, having both cookies at once was the most delightful balance of treats - a balance made all the more delightful by an absence of molasses! The chocolate version is dark and decadent: a luscious combination of sugar and spice that makes them a maturely mysterious cookie. The other is light and aromatic: a classically earthy flavor without that classic "snap" of many brick-like gingerbread cookies. (Ever notice that? That gingerbread cookies make more of a "snap" when you eat them than ginger snaps, which are usually soft and chewy? Yeah, language is funny.) Outfitting them in chocolate and raisins is another pleasant update to this baking classic, but you could keep it old school by omitting the add ons and sticking with icing.** Whatever your opinion of gingerbread, these new approaches make for a whole new taste experience, so start heating your oven because you'll want to make these lickety-split.



Yep, breakfast of champions - complete with vegg nog in my favorite mug. If that mug's not a sweet use of split complements, I don't know what is.
CHOCOLATE GINGERBREAD COOKIES
+ 3/4 c flour
+ 1/4 c cocoa powder
+ 1/2 c brown sugar
+ 1/4 t baking soda
+ 1/4 t baking powder
+ 1 t ginger
+ 1/2 t cinnamon
+ 1/2 t nutmeg
+ 1/2 t allspice
+ 1/8 t cloves
+ salt
+ 1/4 c oil
+ 1 t vanilla or almond extract
+ 1/8 - 1/4 c water
+ chocolate chips (optional)


PUMPKIN GINGERBREAD COOKIES
+ 1 c flour
+ 1/2 c plus 2 T brown sugar
+ 1/4 t baking soda
+ 1/4 t baking powder
+ 1 t ginger
+ 1/2 t cinnamon
+ 1/2 t nutmeg
+ 1/2 t allspice
+ 1/8 t cloves
+ salt
+ 1/2 c pumpkin puree
+ 1/4 c oil
+ 1 t vanilla or almond extract
+ raisins (optional)


01. Sift together the dry ingredients. The measurements for the spices are just a jumping off point, but personally, I never measure. I just taste and adjust as necessary. If you're scared to trust your taste buds, err on the conservative side; it's better to have a borderline sugar cookie than a spice explosion only your waste basket wants to eat. And trust me, with some of these spices, it's real easy to go overboard real fast (especially with clove! that sneaky little sucker!).

02. Add in the wet ingredients and gently stir to combine. You should have a moist (but not wet or sticky) wad of cookie dough. Wrap it in plastic wrap and place it in the freezer for an hour or two.

03. Remove the dough from the freezer, and let it stand for a few minutes as it adjusts to the relative tropical wasteland of your kitchen. Set your oven to 350º, then lightly flour a flat surface. Roll your dough out until it's about a quarter inch thick, trying to maintain a rectangular shape because you'll maximize your dough's potential as a rectangle instead of a circle. Definitely shoot for a quarter inch here, though, because if you go much thinner, you'll wind up with really crispy dry-wall cookies, but if you go much thicker, your cookies will be more like cake, not cookies. A quarter of an inch is the magic measure here, folks! Then use your favorite cookie cutters to cut out amazing shapes. (Here is a pretty rad tutorial on making your own cookie cutters, but there's nothing wrong with defaulting into classic shapes like fetuses and charcoal grills. If you don't own any cookie cutters, just use a cup. PUNK AS FUCK!)

Pro Tip: Dipping your cookie cutters in flour periodically before pressing them into the dough makes a cleaner cut, which makes the cookies easier to remove and transfer to a tray.

04. Continue cutting cookie shapes, then re-rolling the dough and cutting more until there's nothing left to roll and cut. Carefully transfer your cookies to a lightly greased cookie sheet (use a spatula if you need some help), and take this opportunity to press on your add ons (raisins, chocolate, nuts, whatever). Then throw those cookies into the oven and bake for eight to ten minutes. Let them cool on the cookie sheet for about two minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack or plate and allow them to cool completely.

05. Enjoy with a mug of peppermint tea or vegg nog while breathing in the crisp autumn air.



Each recipe makes approximately twelve cookies.







* As an aside, I wanted to write "chili weather" because "chilly weather" = "chili weather," but I wasn't sure how many people would recognize that as a play on words and not a typo.
** Here, I am hinting at a play on words. Because gingerbread cookies are most often made into gingerbread men (and women! and inbetweens!), and what do you use the icing for? Duh, gingerbread outfits. Geez, I'm on a roll..! (Originally I typed "role." What up, homonym!)
*** While I've already got you down here reading asterisks about plays on words, I wanted to tell you about all the pop culture references I wanted to make with the title, like "One Flavor Enters, Two Cookies Leave" or "Two Cookies, One Flavor." Eh? Eh? CLASSY.