Old-School Chocolate Pudding
Way back when I was in junior high school, just about the age my daughter is now, I took a home economics class. In that class we were introduced, en masse, to the delights of culinary creation. Nowadays, this sort of class is called Home and Careers, and for all I know, students might be learning to balance their daily diet on the Mediterranean food pyramid, to shop for organic produce in food co-ops, and to braise perfectly succulent osso bucco. But back when I was in 7th grade, we learned the type of stick-to-your-ribs (and thighs and butt) cookery that was perfect for maximizing the payoff of a minimal budget: it was all about the starch.
We partnered up, tried to find a stove with the most working burners, and set about decoding the mysterious recipe calculus that would result in something edible. That year, we cooked three things, all from scratch: muffins (plain and grape-jelly filled), macaroni and cheese, and chocolate pudding. Yes, it was a carb overload, but who cares when you’re bringing home fresh-baked muffins on the bus and for once, you want to jump up and down and wave your arms when someone yells, “Hey, what’s that smell?”
I think I made macaroni and cheese twice a week for dinner every week for six months. We all survived, and no one had to wear an insulin pump. But then came the chocolate pudding. Ah, silky and rich, chocolaty and, unlike ice cream or candy bars, within my power to create! I won’t tell the tales of my preadolescent chocolate-pudding exploits, but suffice it to say, once its course was run (and certain parties in my household made pointed comments about how some of us should be riding our bike more and hunkering over a pot of simmering chocolate wonderfulness less), my romance with chocolate pudding fizzled out.
Sure, there was Jell-O pudding years later when my kids were in the mood for it, and once or twice I ate pudding at the diner for nostalgic purposes, but that was about it. Until this week, that is. I found myself with a surfeit of organic whole milk edging past its sell-by date and was in need of a few recipes that used up a good amount of milk at one time. Inspiration struck. Good old chocolate pudding, cooked from scratch on the stove.
With both of my kids watching, commenting on the smell, the texture, the anticipated taste (you’d think they’d been starved of chocolate their whole lives!), I stirred and stirred while the alchemy of cornstarch and milk and heat worked its magic to turn chocolate milk into bubbling chocolate pudding. Now I can make my own ice cream and I don’t eat that many candy bars, but chocolate pudding just might make a comeback in my household.
Old-School Chocolate Pudding
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1/4 cup cocoa powder
- 1/4 cup cornstarch
- Pinch salt
- 2 3/4 cup milk (can use whole, 2%, 1%, or skim)
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract (can replace with almond)
- 2 tablespoons chopped almonds, toasted (optional)
Combine dry ingredients in a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan. Stir to mix well. Stir in just enough of the milk (about 1/4 cup) to reach a thick, creamy consistency. Using a wire whisk, gradually stir (don’t whip) in remaining milk.
Place pudding mix over medium heat and bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Let it boil gently for half a minute or so and continue stirring. When pudding is thick and smooth, remove from heat. Gently stir in the vanilla extract.
Pour pudding into 1 serving bowl or 4 individual dishes and cover right away with a sheet of plastic wrap.* Refrigerate until set, about 4 hours. Garnish with chopped almonds before serving, if desired.
*Please, don’t forget to lay a sheet of plastic wrap directly on top of your pudding ASAP or it will form a tough skin that will rival the Toughskins of your youth (or mine, at least).
