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There is a way of thinking, a kind of philosophy "tutto italiano" which can be applied to just about anything, even a pudding (all'italiana: un budino).
Here's how the traditional English pudd' gets transformed into a real Italian budino, symbol of sincerity and good old-fashioned sentiments.
I don't know how or why, but someone got into our heads that puddings are complicated affairs. This fallacy has proved so persistant that shops are fairly bursting with mixes. I came up with 23 in my local market, which is super in name only, sporting registers strategically placed on authentic Roman columns (an aside: It comes to mind that Rome is a striking example of urban recycling nothing is discarded, nothing thrown away. Entire temples have been recycled, their ruined marble reused to build churches. The remains of ancient theaters have been preserved as the foundations for apartments inhabited by contemporary designers, just as the foundations of patrician structures live on as supermarkets.)
When out on a shopping expedition like this, when you know it can all be done quite easily at home with the real eggs, real sugar and real milk you've got in in the cupboards, it's almost offensive to be offered prepared compositions of agar-agar (Irish moss), carob (produced from the dark, aromatic pods of carob trees), fatty acids and the smooth assurances of old-time quality, quick'n'easy. It makes you yearn for good-old values like simplicity.
It was my intention when I set out, to buy something "handy".
Somebody's had us convinced that puddings were a lot of trouble because they have to be cooked in the double-boiler. Wrong again! Pre-heat the oven to 125 C° (about 300 F°) and bake your pudding for an hour. Insert a toothpick to test it as you would a cake. When the toothpick comes out clean, your dessert is ready. I know someone's already saying: An hour? Too long! But consider, it's an hour which frees your hands and mind-not really so bad, huh? Then, do like my friend Gianfranco Vissani who was named Italian Restaurateur of the Year in 1997. He makes a caramel sauce (cook sugar with a little water, when it caramelizes, mix in a spoonful of cream) pour the sauce mixture evenly over the platter and turn the budino - refrigerated a couple of hours and sliced with care to prevent it from breaking - onto the sauce.
That's right! And what I wanted for today was to demonstrate that happiness is a simple thing. Like my nanny's special pudding. Something home-made, good for all seasons and good for everyone, whether old or young, whether quick'n easy devotée or foe. All that happiness will have the mix producers jumping for joy...
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