How to Not Curdle the Tapioca

I've had a string of cooking disasters on my hands recently-

-A batch of homemade marshmallows that were the color and texture of silly putty with a burnt chemical flavor.

-An attempt to expedite bacon cooking with an untested method ala Barefoot Contessa (she promised me it would be perfectly crisp while I remained splatter free! How could I resist?) started a grease fire (I was shockingly composed in the crisis) that ruined my BLT plans.

-A batch of tapioca pudding that turned grainy and curdled.

Each of these disasters can be traced back to rushing. Rushing forward without the right equipment (a candy thermometer in the case of the Ruined Marshmallows), rushing forward without consulting the recipe (I'd seen Ina do Oven Bacon on television, but didn't want to look it up so just attempted it under the broiler. Not. Wise.) Rushing to deal with the resultant massive grease fire raging in my oven led me to neglect The Curdled Tapioca That I Will In All Likelihood Eat Anyway.

As I thought about this string of disasters, I realized that is what I love and sometimes hate about cooking- it just can't be rushed. It takes the time that it takes. And the best results take lots of preparation and time. But not just time.

Good results in the kitchen also demand care. In fact, care is the underpinning for all good cooking. The tapioca could still have still curdled if I'd been standing there staring into space thinking about the orders I had to ship. The tapioca required not just my time, but that I care about what I was doing. That I be attentive to it.

I needed to be there in the moment, focusing only on making the tapioca. Not thinking about bills, or how I ought to sweep the floor or create a lesson plan.

Just Stirring. Admiring the little globules of tapioca turn pale and translucent. Considering how space age tapioca pearls look for an ancient root extract. Marveling at the eggs and the beautiful color and depth they add to the pudding. How they help to thicken it. Smelling the lovely custardy steam rising up as the mixture reduces. Feeling the hairs around my face curl in that steam. Noticing the sound of my whisk scraping the bottom of the saucepan, how my stirring keeps the mixture from scalding.

Practice this enough and suddenly, the task isn't unpleasant any more. It is a thing you are doing and taking pleasure in doing well. But of course, this is a challenge. To approach minutia with a fresh enthusiasm, attention and openness sometimes feels impossible. So I tried to rush. To do two things at once so I could get on to something more important. And that's when the tapioca curdled.

This is a lesson I am just now learning and that I will have to learn and re-learn. But, "making every act a meditation" seems worth it to me.

P.S) Here are the lovely Tapioca Recipes pictured if you've got the urge to make some now:

1) Thai Coconut Pudding with Cayenne Spiced Mango

2) Fruit on the Bottom Pudding with Strawberries & Fennel

3) Putting out Pudding

Additionally here is my standby recipe I use and my adventures with Tapioca in China.

Saturday Morning Recipes

This Cinnamon Streusel Buttermilk Coffee Cake was delicious. We ate every last crumb. Lately I've been in the habit of baking something special on Saturday mornings- I like how the house fills with sweet, buttery smells and how we all sit around in our pajamas sipping coffee until it's ready to enjoy, still warm from the oven. A lovely way to kick off the weekend if you ask me. Do you have a favorite "Saturday Morning" recipe you'd like to share? I'm making a collection!

Potato Chip, Meet Caviar. Miss B, Meet your Favorite Hors D'oeuvre

So, I was watching Andrew Zimmern, that delightfully unpretentious chef (those are rare these days!) who travels the world sampling local delicacies. The show is called Bizarre Foods and many dishes are included for their gross out factor- worms and slugs are common. But he tastes more rareified items too, and listening to him describe the food in great detail and rapture is my favorite part.

In this particular episode, he was visiting St. Petersburg and sampled all sorts of incredible pickled goods from a local market, an astonishing assortment of borscht that ranged in color from raspberry pink to garnet red, and finally, the main event- beluga caviar in The Grand Hotel's world famous Caviar bar.

It made me want to book a trip to Russia immediately. Until we can squirrel away the cash for that, I decided to sample caviar for the first time right here at home. I've got a little three ring binder stuffed with fun party ideas ripped from the pages of magazines, and this recipe immediately sprang to mind.

I'd saved it because it is an irresistible mix of high and low. The humble potato chip meets caviar. This recipe came from In Style Magazine (Do they still have that wonderful party sectioneach month?) and couldn't be simpler. Sea Salt and Pepper Kettle Potato Chips topped with a dollop of sour cream and a beautiful pile of caviar, glittering like tiny black pearls. The juxtaposition of creamy and crunchy, salty and cool, plus that wonderful little explosion of the sea was really exquisite.

Eric and I enjoyed ours after he arrived home from work with a glass of champagne. It was undoubtedly the most glamourous after school snack the world has ever known.Have you tried anything new lately? Do tell!