Not a “Movie Review”

Shortly after Election Day, Peter and I sat down to watch a movie.  Peter surfed up a movie titled “Yesterday,” ostensibly about a struggling musician who suddenly becomes the only person to remember the Beatles.  The movie was wonderfully put together, the characters believably genuine, the situation funnily strange.  The Reality proposed in the movie is that, after an injury (he gets hit by a bus, of course), a singer-songwriter who lives with his mum and da somewhere in England (I forgot where) is transported to an alternate world in which the Beatles never existed.  He Googles (yes, the search engine’s iconic website colors makes it clear) The Beatles only to be given entries on different types of beetles.  He Googles John Paul George Ringo and sees articles about the pope John Paul II.

His friends give him an acoustic guitar after the accident (his guitar was, apparently, smashed in the accident), and the first song he sings is a Beatles song (I think it might have been “Yesterday”).  His friends comment on the song, and he quips that it’s one of the Best Songs Ever Written.  In this Reality, though, they’d never heard the song before and are simply astonished.

He lands a gig singing as the opener for Ed Sheeran, and the audience goes wild as he sings Beatles songs for them.  At the end of the evening, Ed Sheeran proposes a song writing competition between them, and the protagonist uses another Beatles hit, I don’t remember which, it might have been “Let It Be.”  The crowd is astounded and Ed Sheeran admits defeat, shaking the protagonist’s hand (I wish I could remember the protagonist’s name!).  From there, his career skyrockets as he records more and more Beatles songs, performing at his own concerts.  He is introduced to his new manager, a slick, tall, blonde from California (of course).  She’s ever-so-sophisticated, and agrees to his “parochial” interests, one of which is to perform on a rooftop of a hotel on the beach.  Scenes of the movie mirror scenes from movies by the Beatles, including the rooftop concert and a scene in which he and his (original) manager run away from his fans and his (new) manager. 

This lighthearted and joyful movie was a salve on my election-rattled nerves.

Altitude Sickness did not take Me

After moving to Albuquerque, I didn’t think I’d suffer from altitude sickness, but, alas, on our last day trip to Santa Fe, that is exactly what happened, and quite exquisitely, though it was the aridity as much as the altitude. The city of Albuquerque is a mile high city, with the river at 5200, according to a roadside sign. The city of Santa Fe’s elevation is around 7200, and our house sits close to 6200. We drove up in the early afternoon for a screening of a film about the Northern Jaguar Project, which focuses on the preservation of their habitat in an effort to help them reach their historical range which continued into Colorado and even Montana, I think.
We first went for lunch at an eatery where I was supposed to have lunch with Debbie on a trip we took to Santa Fe together to take part in a protest. It had been closed, so we went around the block to another eatery where I very thoroughly enjoyed a delicious sandwich on house-made bread. I took Peter there on our first trip up since the protest, and wanted to try this restaurant.
Unpretentious and definitely food-forward, we each enjoyed our lunch, and I found myself drinking three large tumblers of water while there. We learned, after reaching the venue, a church surrounded by a massive stretch of asphalt, that the program didn’t start until the evening, so I took Peter to a park I’d found on the map that’s not far from the venue. There, we walked down a trellis-covered brick walk, though the single unhappy-looking wisteria hadn’t even made it up the post where it had been planted, though the park must have been there for some time, given that there were memorials for wars that took place a century ago. A newer memorial commemorated the Korean War, with a small brick plaza before a stone wall featuring plaques with the visages of the specific individuals memorialized.
We sat in the fading shade of one of the small trees atop a low landscape wall. There, I felt myself becoming weak again. Peter took me to a coffee shop located within a small shopping complex. There, I ordered a coffee, but Peter smartly ordered tea and a cup of water. I felt myself becoming ill again, drank the remaining water in his cup, then asked him to bring another cup of water for me. I drank that down, too, fairly quickly, and sat, with my eyes closed, until I felt my balance again. I took the cup up to the counter and asked tha barista to fill it again, and she did. I drank half of that before finally being able to use the toilet and return to the table. I finished the other half of the water, and we sat a little longer before it was time to go to the venue.
When we arrived, there were several cars in the carpark, but the meeting room used to show the movie had mostly empty seats. The previous program we attended at this venue was fairly well-attended, so I figured that the environmentalists of Santa Fe were out of town on their summer vacations.
The question-and-answer after the movie included good questions, and one person asked whether it would be possible to offer trips for supporters (ie, donors with money to travel as well as support the Northern Jaguar Project) to the preserve in northern Mexico. The woman from the organization said that it might be possible to go to the region, though it may not be possible to reach the preserve itself without four-wheel-drive vehicles, as it’s located in a fairly remote area, surrounded by private ranches, the owners of many of which have partnered with the Northern Jaguar Project to help preserve the environment require not only by the jaguars, but their prey and other large animals and predators, including wolves and bears.
I felt particularly good about stopping myself from feeling too ill to attend the program because I thoroughly enjoyed it for the hopefulness it encourages for helping wild species reclaim their former territories.

Original Recipe (Almost)

Orange-Pistachio Roulade

adapted from Mary Berry’s Christmas Roulade

Ingredients

5 (large) egg whites, room temperature
1 t Cream of Tartar
275 g granulated sugar
50-60 g chopped pistachios
1 c heavy cream, chilled
2 T orange liqueur, like Grand Marnier
50 g white chocolate, finely grated
1 large Cara Cara orange, sections separated and cut into bits
2-3 T powdered sugar (opt.)

Directions

Toast the chopped pistachios at 325 for 14 minutes or just until they become fragrant. (I use my toaster oven to do this, as it’s such a small amount that it seems wasteful to turn on the full-size oven to do this.)

Set aside to cool.

Preheat the oven to 200° C or 392° F.

Spray your jellyroll pan thoroughly with nonstick spray, going all the way up the sides. Cover with parchment. It may be advisable to layer the parchment over all the sides of the pan to ensure the meringue doesn’t stick because it WILL be difficult to remove if any of it touches the pan.

Whip egg whites in a stand mixer on medium until foamy. Add Cream of Tartar and continue beating, starting at medium but quickly going to high speed, pouring in sugar as it beats. When meringue holds firm peaks, stir in about three-quarters of the chopped pistachios by hand and spread evenly into prepared jellyroll pan.

Bake for 8 minutes at 200° C (392° F) for 8 minutes, then turn heat down to 160° C (320° F) and bake for an additional 12-15 minutes. The meringue should have some brown spots, but may remain mostly white.

Cool meringue in pan for a few minutes, then use paper to lift the meringue out and place on a cooling rack to cool completely.

Meanwhile, using a clean attachment, whip heavy cream at high speed until firm peaks form. Stir in orange liqueur and spread onto cooled meringue. Distribute orange bits and chopped pistachios over. Dust with grated white chocolate and use the paper to roll up carefully, beginning with a long side, onto a serving surface (like a platter or cutting board from which you’ll serve).

Dust with powdered sugar, or optionally dust with additional grated white chocolate.

Serve IMMEDIATELY, as it won’t last long.

Orange-Cocoa Frozen Custard

I made this just because…

Orange-Cocoa Frozen Custard

(adapted from Chocolate Custard recipe from Serious Eats website)

Ingredients

Zest and juice from two large oranges
1 t Orange extract
2 t Vanilla extract
2 T Grand Marnier or other orange liquer
6 Egg yolks
±1 c Granulated sugar, to taste
½ c Alkalized cocoa powder
2 c Heavy cream
1 c Whole milk

Instructions

Place ceramic or glass container in freezer to chill.

Beat yolks, then whisk in milk and cream to combine in a medium saucepan. Add orange zest and sugar and place saucepan over medium heat, whisking constantly. As custard begins to form, add orange juice and continue whisking til incorporated and smooth. Keep whisking til custard begins to bubble after steam has been rising from saucepan for several minutes.
Remove from heat and strain into a glass or ceramic bowl. Sift in alkalyzed cocoa powder, then stir in vanilla and orange extracts. Place plastic wrap directly on surface of custard and cool before putting in the fridge to chill for a minimum of four hours (overnight is good).
When custard is chilled, whisk in Grand Marnier, then churn in ice cream machine. After churning, scoop custard into the pre-chilled glass or ceramic container and freeze.

A Visit to Linda’s

I love eggs!

Or, rather, I love that I buy eggs from Linda, a local farmer who has lived on her farm in the South Valley for forty years. This morning, I had arranged to stop by to buy a few dozen eggs after my appointment with my cardiologist, whose office is in the more southerly area of Albuquerque. One I arrived at the Heart Institute, I went to the registration counter, where the receptionist informed me that my appointment is next week! I checked on my calendar, and, indeed, there it was, on the 26th. However, it was also o my calendar for this morning, so I had it twice…

Since I am scheduled to see my cardiologist biannually, I didn’t think much of the exact d So I ate for which the appointment had been scheduled, figuring that I had put it in my personal calendar two years ago when I last saw him. Peter figured that out of my seemingly-ever-increasing anal-retentiveness, I had put it on my calendar on the wrong date when I thought about it again in anticipation of the actual date, and had put it down incorrectly. So I bad the receptionist farewell for a week and left. In the lobby, I phoned Linda to ask if it wasn’t too early for me to come for eggs since I didn’t have my appointment, after all. She said to come on down, so I went from there.

Upon reaching the farm, I saw, for the first time in quite a while, the peafowl in her front yard, pecking at the ground as they do. A couple of peacocks squawked and they slowly meandered across the field across the drive to the barn into the field. From there, they continued pecking at the ground, making their way into the shade of the mock orange trees that lined the narrow lane on the opposite side of the field. I walked up to the storm door and rang the doorbell. The two larger dogs, one a white standard poodle and the other a golden retriever, rushed to the door and pushed their way out, stepping on my sandaled feet on the concrete porch. Linda called that she would be right out, and that the dogs could stay out, so I backed a step. Linda came out and invited me in. Linda showed me a square layer cake she’d just made with raspberry jam in the middle with buttercream frosting. She said the cake was “just a box cake,” but she wanted to figure out how much jam to put between the layers, and had decided that for the “real” cake she would make from scratch, she’ll pipe a taller frosting dam around the edge to use mare jam. She cut me a significant portion of the remaining cake and put it on a paper plate, covering it with plastic wrap. She asked if I had other things to get to, and I told her that I had expected to be at the cardiologist, so, no, I didn’t have to hurry onto anything else.

She put the covered cake into the fridge and we rode out to the raspberry canes in the cart one of her relatives, either a son or a brother, had bought for her to move around the farm. Once there, Linda showed me where to pick, as the raspberries, which had been pretty small when I’d last been there, had grown considerably and were ready for picking. We each carried a bowl and picked as we chatted. When we’d decided we’d pocked long enough, she handed me the bowls and I held them as she drove us back to the house.

She dropped me off at my car to put the bowls in the boot of my car, then asked if I’d like an iced coffee. I asked if she was making coffee, anyway, and she said, Sure, she was in the mood for ice coffee, herself, so was planning to make some. I joined her in her kitchen as she prepared the decaf instant coffee and added sugar and coconut milk from a can in the fridge. I watched her stir the solid lump of coconut milk into the large glass measuring cup she’d used for nuking the water before putting in two sachets of instant coffee, stirring it all together before pouring it into two glasses with ice.

We sat on the southeast-facing porch underneath the roof, sipping coffee and chatting about this and that. She told me about the window and screen repairman who came last week. He is Israeli, and said to her that His People will take over the US government in the near future. I questioned who he meant by his people, and was he implying that Israelis, the “right” kind of Jews, will soon control this country?

Doesn’t sound kosher to me (pun intended, with effect).

Orange-Cocoa Frozen Custard

(adapted from Chocolate Custard recipe from Serious Eats website)

Ingredients

Zest and juice from two large oranges
1 t Orange extract
2 t Vanilla extract
2 T Grand Marnier or other orange licquer
6 Egg yolks
±1 c Granulated sugar, to taste
½ c Alkalized cocoa powder
2 c Heavy cream
1 c Whole milk

Instructions

Place ceramic or glass container in freezer to chill.

Beat yolks, then mix in milk and cream in a medium saucepan. Add zest and sugar and place mixture over medium heat, whisking constantly. As custard begins to form, add orange juice and continue whisking til incorporated and smooth. Keep whisking til custard begins to bubble after steam has been rising from saucepan for several minutes.

Remove from heat and strain into a glass or ceramic bowl. Sift in alkalyzed cocoa powder, then stir in vanilla and orange extracts. Place plastic wrap directly on surface of custard and cool before putting into fridge to chill for a minimum of four hours (overnight is good).

Once custard is chilled, whisk in Grand Marnier, then churn in ice cream machine. After churning, scoop custard into the pre-chilled container and freeze.

Two Nights, Two Movies: Reviews

“Under the Skin” came up while Peter and I were surfing Prime for a movie. At 99 minutes, it fit into the remaining evening before bedtime, a consideration for me these days…

It turned out to be 109 minutes, but was so incredibly engaging that the I hardly noticed.
It was listed as Sci-Fi, starring Scarlett Johansson. I had enjoyed her in other movies (in other genres) up to that point, including “Girl with the Pearl Earring,” which we watched just last week.
Spoiler Alert! Don’t continue reading if you want to watch the movie with fresh eyes, which I would highly recommend, as it’s quite a powerful journey.

Johansson’s character, an android created for the purpose of luring single, lonely men to unexplained locations where the men meet their demise in a very sci-fi, visually interesting way.
Johansson’s droid does this over the course of several nights in a city (which, I imagine, is when it’s easier to pick up lonely men by themselves). She is careful to only pick up men who are obviously alone, confirming their lonely status before taking them to the Killing Room. One day, she enters a tea room, where the server places a slice of cake before her on her table. She takes a bite, but chokes because she obviously cannot swallow…
When she picks up a pedestrian who has a facial deformity, her conversation is not unlike the conversations she has with her victims. However, she learns that he has never had a girlfriend and observes that he has very soft-looking hands. She stops the car, and asks to touch his hand. He allows this. She asks if he would like to touch her face. After a pause, he says yes (a beautiful woman offering a man with a misshapen head to touch her), and he strokes her face very gently. She takes him to the now-familiar set, a black room with a black floor, and, as before, she undresses and he follows, undressing, just as every other man she’s lured. However, the next scene shows this same man, hurrying through tall grass back into the city to his house, where another man (her handler) meets him, kills him, and takes away his body.
The following scene shows her riding on a city bus, and it’s clearly been raining and it’s cold, the driver talking to her and advising her to put on a coat or find another way to avoid freezing.
At a bus stop outside the city, she meets a man at a bus stop, and he, like everyone else, tells her that she must find something to stay warm or to go somewhere warm. She goes with him on the bus to the grocery store, where he buys his groceries and she looks at items on the shelves but picks up nothing.
They return to his home, where he prepares dinner, though she pointedly doesn’t try to eat, and he puts her into a small bedroom with a cup of tea before closing the door behind him.
It’s not clear how much time has passed, but in a scene where he kisses her and she returns the desire, they lie in bed, kissing. He tries to penetrate her, but cannot because, as she discovers, she has no vagina!
So the android runs away. Her handler and two other motorcycle-riding characters search. The android is walking through a wood in a light rain, and a man comes across her path, telling her to stay on the path because it can be easy to get lost in the large wood. She comes upon a bothy, where she lies on the raised sleeping platform and, it seems, falls asleep. She is suddenly awakened by the man she saw in the wood, and she escapes, running through the wood. As she runs past him, however, he catches her arm, peeling a piece of her skin away. When she stops running, she takes pieces of her skin and peels it off, on her hands, arms, and then she removes the skin on her head and face. She sits, staring at the face, as the man finds her, douses her in gasoline, and lights it to burn her.
One interpretation of the actions of the man she encounters in the wood could be this: A man has the right to anything, and, if he cannot possess it sexually, he is free to destroy it (as this one does).

Last night, we watched a (mostly) lighter movie titled “The Sheep Detectives.” The cast is, simply put, impressive.

The story opens with a shepherd (played by Hugh Jackman) writing a letter describing his life. He describes his sheep, each of whom he’s named “because every sheep deserves a name.” The camera pans to each sheep as he describes them:
The first is a black ram who stands at the top of the escarpment looking over the other sheep in the field below. He’s a Loner, and doesn’t occupy the field with the rest of the sheep. One sheep is named Lily, who, he describes, is the smartest one. He goes on the describe other sheep in the herd, including twins who like to joust by ramming each other playfully and will ram anything unless they’re told explicitly not to. The shepherd describes his day-to-day life with the sheep, including feeding them hay, giving them medicine, and sheering their wool.
In an early scene, three (Spring) lambs frolic and come upon a much smaller lamb with mottled fur. They playfully ask it its name, and it replies that it has no name. An older sheep tells the frolicking lambs not to play with the runt, who is, they explain disdainfully, “a Winter lamb.”
Lo, and behold, the shepherd turns up dead in the field, dressed but not wearing his hat or coat. The sheep immediately start speculating, taking guesses at who the culprit could be based on the mystery novels the shepherd would read to them before bedtime every evening.
Hilarity ensues as the sheep try to solve his murder. The animation is good enough to not be a distraction, and the story is good. Of the human characters (several sheep are voiced by famous actors), Emma Thompson plays the shepherd’s attorney, which made perfect sense to me.
“Sheep Detectives” is a (mostly) light (one tear-jerker), entertaining movie that uses animation to create a seamless, otherwise live-action, movie.

Both are definitely worth watching.

11 July 2026 15:03

The purple tradescantia cutting that I took, with permission, from Roots Cafe, located just south of I-40 in Tijeras, New Mexico, flowered yesterday for the first time since I potted it (last year). The lovely small light purple flowers disappeared overnight, and there was a single new bloom this morning. By the time I went out to take its picture, though, it, too, had succumbed to the heat of a New Mexico summer day. Even though we live in a technically high-altitude region, it’s still hot. The only comfort, and it’s not much of one, is that the City of Albuquerque is a thousand feet lower and even hotter…

One of the reasons I loved living in San Diego was the low relative humidity, and I believed that the High Desert of New Mexico would basically be arid. For the first year we lived here, it was dry, to the point where we bought a humidifier for our bedroom because Peter had overnight nosebleeds.

To my disappointment, it’s been rather humid this year. When we moved here, in 2022, relative humidity levels were rarely higher than ten per cent. Looking at the hygrometer, the relative humidity in my house is currently 50 per cent, making our evaporative cooler (aka “swamp cooler”) ineffective at providing relief. I remember when a humidity even that low was thought of favorably, but that was when I lived in the Eastern seaboard state of New Jersey. During the course of living in San Diego, I became acclimated to humidity levels near twenty per cent, becoming a bit higher at the beach (obviously). And, in the few years since moving to New Mexico, I’d become accustomed to even lower humidity levels. As such, I found myself sweating buckets during our vacation on Palau, an island nation where the humidity levels are probably very near a hundred per cent every day and night. But the islands are consistently refreshed by ocean air currents. I remember great relief when Peter figured out that the machine humming in our room at the hotel was a dehumidifier which ran constantly until its reservoir was full. After realizing what it was (all the instructions were in Japanese, which I don’t read), I made a habit of emptying it at least every day, if for no other reason than to help our dive clothes dry overnight (I hung them on a line over the tub after washing them in the bathroom sink). The dehumidifier was conveniently located so I could empty its reservoir into the bathtub by sliding a privacy divider between the bathtub/shower and the bedroom.

I visited Maui, once on a dive vacation with a boyfriend, once visiting that boyfriend after he moved there, and once with Kat to see how she liked it (I considered taking her there with me to live with that boyfriend).

Kat’s opinion rang true to me, and I realized I felt relief after deciding that we would not relocate to Maui. Kat’s opinion: Maui is a nice place to visit, but she wouldn’t want to live there. I realized I felt very much the same way.

So we remained in San Diego.

Years later, when it came time to visit colleges with Kat, I booked flights and AirBnB stays after the end of the spring school term, in June, to New York with a return flight (for me) from Boston (Kat would take Amtrak to visit a friend in upstate New York for a week before flying home to San Diego with my parents). From Penn Station in New York, we rode Amtrak north to Providence, where we visited Brown and RISD, then we stayed in a suburb of Boston From there, we took the outbound T to Wellesley and take a Lyft to get to campus.

While we were in New York, we were drenched in an afternoon downpour on Manhattan. I remember watching the rain blow horizontally across the intersection as I looked either north or south along one of the Avenues in Greenwich Village. We visited NYU around Washington Square Park. Under the downpour, we hid underneath the Hi Line before ducking into the vestibule of a corner diner. We hid our phones in our pants pockets to prevent them from drowning (I was still using the hand-me-down iPhone 5 from Peter and Kat had only started using a hand-me-down iPhone 4, also from Peter, when I started using the iPhone 5).

I remember walking around the Wellesley campus with Kat. We both suffered from the high temperature and high humidity, and sought refuge in the academic buildings as I showed her around.

I’m not surprised she didn’t apply to my alma mater.

I understand the climatic reason why humidity levels have been rising so rapidly all over the world. The planet Earth is becoming hotter, and hotter air can hold more vapor. Think Venus.

At least it still cools off at night here.

Life: Reptiles and Amphibians

Watched the second episode of the BBC series titled “Life,” narrated by Sir David Attenborough. This episode centered on reptiles and amphibians, and specifically followed an instance where Komodo dragons hunt a water buffalo during the dry season, finding one at one of the few remaining watering holes. At first, the buffalo defends itself, and the dragon must prevent the buffalo from goring it with its horns or kicking it with its hoof. However, the first dragon is able to catch the buffalo’s leg and bite it, drawing blood, the scent attracting other dragons. Their wait begins. After several days, the buffalo succumbs to the dragon’s venom and dies overnight. The dragons feast on the buffalo carcass, and strip it to the bone in a couple days.

After the episode, there is an interview of the cameraman who filmed the buffalo’s demise over several days, and witnessing the creature’s end affected the cameraman emotionally, and he doubted he’d take another such assignment.

Book Review – Spoiler Included

Yes, there’s a spoiler, but this book is so well-written that I want to tell others to read it.

I want to write about this book I just finished reading. Corrine had given it to me to read, and I will pass it on to Gloria when I’m done so she can read it. It’s titled Bat Eater and Other Names for Cora Zeng, and the author is Kylie Lee Baker. The story takes place in 2020 with New York in the grip of COVID. The main character is Cora Zeng, and the story begins with her and her sister, Delilah, in a subway station waiting for a train, even though Cora is convinced it’s not coming. As it arrives, a white man pushes Delilah, who is standing near the yellow stripe at the edge of the platform, and she spins and falls at the edge, her head taken off by the incoming train. Before the white man pushes Delilah, he looks at her with hate and says , loudly, “Bat Eater!”

From there, Cora is left living in their apartment alone in Chinatown. She takes a job on the Crime Scene Cleanup Crew, something added to a dry cleaner’s business because nobody was getting clothes dry cleaned anymore, but there were plenty of crime scenes that needed cleaning after the police have written their reports.

Cora works with two other Chinese-Americans, Yifei, who is an immigrant from China, and Harvey, a six-feet-tall ABC. Cora has two aunts who live in New York, one the sister of her father, who had returned to China and remarried. Her aunt reminds her father to send money so Cora can afford the apartment. She burns paper effigies of food and other items for the dead. Cora learns that her aunt had been burning things for Delilah because she knew Cora would not do it. So Cora learns that a ghost who has been following her isn’t Delilah, after all, but another murder victim. Cora is led to find a USB drive in the apartment of a dead Chinese-American police officer who was investigating a pattern of murders of Chinese-American women. She finds photos of many of the murdered women. Some of the photos are crime scene photos from the police, others are photos, very soon after the women are murdered, that were posted on a website dedicated to killing Asian women. Cora is able to figure out that the Chinese-American police officer was murdered by someone either employed by or in conjunction with the NYPD.

It’s well-written and shows how all minorities, by race or sexual orientation, are not only marginalized by persecuted by the Majority Culture. The afterward is very thoughtful, as well.

Two Recipes

I prepared Honey Frozen Custard, and found it very sweet, so I am including the recipe here leaving the amount of honey open to taste, as I found that with the honey I used (Eucalyptus), it was really very sweet for my taste. However, I then made a recipe for Rice Pudding, and it came out not very sweet at all, but very much cardamom-forward. I present both recipe here, as I found their combination suitable to my preferred sweetness preference:

Experimental Rice Pudding

Ingredients

1 liter whole milk
1 T cardamom seeds, crushed (or less, to taste)
1 t fine sea salt
zest of 1 lemon, shaved with vegetable peeler
zest of 2 mandarins, shaved with vegetable peeler
2 T honey
½ c Arborio rice
¼ c golden raisins
¼ c white rum (opt.)
ground cinnamon or shaved nutmeg, to taste

serve with: honey frozen custard

Steps

Measure milk into saucepan. Add zests, cardamom, and salt. Bring to a simmer over medium heat, then lower heat, cover, and cook for 20-30 minutes, stirring about every five minutes, scraping the bottom to prevent scorching.

Strain milk into a glass 1-liter measuring bowl. Measure in honey and rum (if using) and stir to combine. Add raisins and rice to milk, stirring to distribute. Pour mixture into a buttered 1-quart casserole, cover, and place in 350° F oven. Bake for 50Honey minutes, then remove cover and stir, checking a rice grain. If it’s not soft, return cover, bake another ten to twenty minutes, then check again. Once rice is soft, continue.

Stir pudding. Dust with ground cinnamon or shaved nutmeg, if desired. Bake an additional ten minutes without cover.

When milk is thickened, remove pudding from oven and cool slightly before serving.

Honey Frozen Custard

Ingredients

6 Large Yolks
1 pint Heavy Cream or Whole Milk, depending on desired richness
1/8-1/4 c honey, to taste
1 T Fresh Lemon Zest
dash salt

Steps

Beat yolks with dash salt, then blend in heavy cream or milk. Heat over medium until mixture begins to steam. Add honey and lemon zest, and continue stirring over low-medium until mixture thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon and leave a streak when a finger runs through it.

Cool mixture, strain, and chill until very cold.

Prepare ice cream maker and pour in mixture. Allow ice cream maker to continue churning until it is completed. Scrape soft custard into a cold container and place in freezer for several hours to firm.

Accompany with Experimental Rice Pudding.

Enjoy!