This week I was flattened by the flu. I spent most of the week in bed under the covers (the “warming chamber,” as I like to call it), riding out fevers. It was a lot of fun. I couldn’t do much cooking from the warming chamber, but nevertheless, I have this easy Longhorn Butterscotch Pudding to share.
For this Longhorn treat, start with a box of Jell-O Instant Butterscotch Pudding.
Yep, instant pudding. Sure, you could make your own, if you really wanted to. But sometimes you need your butterscotch pudding RIGHT NOW, and for those times, Jell-O Instant Pudding fits the bill.
Prepare the pudding according to the package directions, which is basically just whisking in two cups of cold milk. Now for the Longhorn Magic — add exactly 8 drops of liquid red food coloring and 11 drops of liquid yellow food coloring, and VOILA! — burnt orange butterscotch pudding.
Any dish is really only as good as the sum of its parts, so to apologize for using instant pudding, I made real whipped cream. This stuff, unlike the Longhorns, cannot be beat. Using an electric beater, whip 1 cup of cold whipping cream with 1 heaping tablespoon of powdered sugar until stiff peaks form. (Be careful not to overbeat, in order to avoid making butter.)
Top the pudding with generous dollops of whipped cream, sprinkle with Heath Brickle Bits, and serve. Stand back and hear your family exclaim, “Cool, UT pudding!”
I found this pressed glass cake stand at a local charity thrift shop. I believe it was made by the Fostoria Company, although the shop had a tag on it that said Heisey. Isn’t it classy?
What’s really cool about it, is that it has a well in the center of the plate.
I had no idea what this hole in the plate was for — flowers, maybe? My interwebs research revealed that this was known as a “rum well.” Now we’re talking! What cake wouldn’t benefit from a liberal bath in liquor?
My version, however, is slightly different, and doesn’t involve the questionable use of double contractions. (I mean, really — I’d’ve?):
If I knew you were comin’ I’d have locked the door
Turned off the lights, shut the blinds
If I knew you were comin’ I’d have locked the door
Please call before you come next time
The thing is, I hate when people drop by unexpectedly. It’s never good. All hell breaks loose — things boil over on the stove or char in the oven, the dogs go bonkers or get out and run halfway down the block, and I have to make up some excuse why I’m still in my pajamas at 3:00 p.m. — you get the picture. Sometimes folks come by unexpectedly to drop off something in connection with my son’s scout troop — a CD with 800 photos on it, broken camping equipment — which I receive with the same delight as when my dogs drop a dead lizard at my feet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not antisocial — I just appreciate a heads up when someone is coming by.
My mom, on the other hand, was always ready for company. She loved to entertain, or, as she called it, En-Ter-Tain, enunciating every syllable. She and my dad, who were both accomplished cooks, could put together a tray of hors d’oeuvres in no time flat. And my mom always had a home-baked cake or pie in the freezer. Her signature cake was Jewish Pound Cake. She found the recipe in a newspaper decades ago, and must have made 500 of them over her lifetime. It was once her secret recipe, but now, of course, you can find it on the interwebs.
Inspired by the elegant cake stand and the memories of my entertaining mom, I baked a Jewish Pound Cake — just in time for Rosh Hashanah. I believe its name comes from the fact that it’s made with oil, not butter, and therefore, can be served with both a meat and a dairy meal. It’s a simple, not-too-sweet, homey cake, best baked a day in advance, and perfect for noshing. Or serving to unexpected company.
