Maine blueberry pudding(it ain’t) aka it’s not pudding part two

First off: next week is staycation week for me. Yeah, I have a callback, yeah I’ll still go on auditions, or jobs, if they pop up, but otherwise I have an out-of-town guest and we have hikes and wine classes, and Big Lebowski/White Russian nights planned.
And I’m going to relax if it is the last thing I do.
Y’all will have to do without me but I’ll be back in blogland a week from Wednesday.
Food:
Sometimes molding something sounds intimidating. Sometimes you want layers. Sometimes you don’t want to wait overnight with weights atop your pudding-only-in-name-cause-Brits-call-all-desserts-puddings creation.

But Mainely you are intrigued by the cinnamon and lemon juice.

This Fannie Farmer recipe was so very similar to the Summer Berry Pudding
I told you about Wednesday. Except it only involved 4 hours in the fridge and was substantially easier to make because you didn’t have to make the pieces of bread fit your mold like a carbohydrate jigsaw puzzle.

Think of this as a dessert knife and fork pudding if you so please.

Or a berry sammich.

And don’t leave out the cinnamon and lemon, they make magic.

Maine Blueberry Pudding(adapted ever so slightly from the 1965 Fannie Farmer Cookbook)
3 slices of bread(gluten-frees, use your bread of choice, I believe me mum swears by Udi’s)
Butter
1/4 cup H2O
Cinnamon
1 1/2 cups blueberries
3 Tbsp. sugar give or take-see how sweet your fruit is and adjust accordingly
A squeeze of lemon
Cook the blueberries, agua, and sugar on stove. First you bring the it to a boil then let it burble. Simmer. Whichever. Take about ten minutes all total. You want it starting to thicken but you still want lots of juice. Add the squeeze of lemon.
Whilst you burble the berries:

Take a square Tupperware container that fits a slice of bread and line it with nonstick foil. Butter that bread and sprinkle cinnamon on it.

I am a cinnamonster and sprinkle lots. Come now, it’s good for you.

There is a reason it is not called sin-namon.

Layer the bread and berries in the container, two layers of berries between the bread. If you are smarter than I you will save more of the juice to pour atop the last piece of bread. Last slice should go cinnamon side down. Cover, and refrigerate about quatro horas.
Take out of the fridge, lift foil out and unwrap. Slice if you desire. Please consider being like me: put reddi-whip on top and devour.

You can make homemade whip if you like but please don’t compare the two. Reddi-whip and homemade whip, in my mind, are two completely different things. Apples and oranges. Each has their own time and place and both are delightful in the proper setting.

Cheez whiz and Brie.

That’s my stand.

It is not pudding: part one

It is not pudding. It is a pudding. In the British pudding-as-generic-word-for-dessert way.
Pudding is to British as coke is to some areas of the USA. The South?

If you say “coke” for all soda types tell me and let me know where you are from. Seriously lurkers. Do.

Anthropologist, linguist, and actor. That’s me.

I first made this for a very important reason:
Because it is pretty. And I like soggy bread.

Really.

I make it a lot now every summer because it’s friggin’ Delicious.

No, I am not against the word “Delicious” in my writing.
I know blogsnobs shun Delicious as unoriginal.
I, however have no huge need to prove my vocabular worth here. At least in this blog entry. Please excuse the fact that The Gruel page has a section devoted to Brain Food.

I tried really hard to pimp out the cute factor on this pretty pudding but had some difficulty. I’m really not a very good photographer. Still, the image at the top of the post is better than my first shot:

No?
For those of you nervous about a molded dessert, this is not hard. But there will be an easier version of this coming at you this weekend. Hold yer horses.

Berry Pudding(adapted from this Bon Appetit recipe)

1 cup blueberries
2 cups raspberries
1/4 cup sugar
About 6 slices bread(gluten-free folks use your bread of choice)
2 tbsp. butter

Line a bowl with plastic wrap leaving enough overhang to be able to fold over the top. I used my 4-cup measuring cup. Why use a rounded bowl, I like an architectural dessert.
Butter your bread.
Cook and stir the berries, sugar, and a tablespoon or so of water over medium heat, letting sugar dissolve.
Stir and mash berries a little bit whilst heating. Then bring to a boil and let cook until thickened, between 5 and 10 minutes.
Use bread to line the measuring cup, butter side up. Pour in berry mixture, then top that with any remaining bread, butter side down.
Fold overhanging plastic over bread. Put a plate on top and a can on that to weight it.
Chill at least 12 hours until your bread is good and purple, then un-mold.
Delight in the splendor of purple buttery bread.