Archives for category: puddings.

ImageOh Olympics, I wish I knew how to quit you!  You nearly made me miss my train!  But don’t worry, I blamed the “traffic”, I would never blame you.  Your men’s volleyball team strangely has cheerleaders in striped onesies, your gymnastics gym is decorated in magenta – for both men’s and women’s! (way to exaggerate the stereotype!) And you have a sport called “trampoline!”.  (Or the Tramp for all of you stick it fans).  And can anyone explain to me why Dressage is even a sport? Horses aren’t humans!

I have cancelled plans for you, and stayed home eating macaroni & cheese from the pot just to watch you like a true addict.  I have dealt with the racist jokes of the NBC staff, and the time delay that causes Us weekly magazine to ruin the results (even though I am only on Us Weekly.com to hear the updates on the Trampire gossip), but I still cannot stop watching you!

But on the day I made this dessert, you disappointed me Olympics.  Spain lost to Honduras in men’s soccer! Spain lost! Unbeweevable! The Olympics are supposed to be where dreams are made! Spain has nothing- no economy, and the good restaurants are closing; all they had was soccer! And yeah yeah, it was the under twenty-three team, so not a huge surprise, but where was Bojan? Maybe Bojan could have saved you?

So although this dessert was made in honor of my mother, I dedicate this Hazelnut Pudding to Spain. Read the rest of this entry »

After viewing a digital photo my papa took of my grandparents, my grandma replied “oh si, look how old we look!” “you! you look old!” he quipped back.

So I know when it comes to dessert, he will tell it like it is.  The last time I made dessert for my grandpa, a coconut panna cotta with a guava mousse and roast pineapple, he told me “you’ve done better”.  For the last father’s day I will be spending with my family for a few years, I knew I had to make something memorable… something that will stand up to his all time favorite orange jell-o.

After the entertainment portion of the meal, an accordion performance courtesy of my papa, grandpa sat at the table which only had fruit, and said “is that it?! I want cake!”.  So even before my mother was done with her very short (and emotional, duh) toast my grandpa was already spoon deep in his cake.  “how is it grandpa?” I asked before even taking a taste myself: “very good.” He said without looking away from the nearly empty glass. “Very very good”.

Read the rest of this entry »