Bread pudding, I think I love you

…………….(The above title is meant to be sung to the Wild Thing song.)………
A few days ago I vowed to take the Bread Pudding Challenge issued by Angela of Fluid Pudding. For most people this would be a no brainer but as I am fairly kitchen impaired, it has been niggling in the mid region of mind for most of the weekend. First of all, I have never tried bread pudding, it always sounded sort of creepy to me, like maybe some sort of gross English dish containing left over bits of brain and tongue. Second, where the hell am I even going to come up with both the time and the recipe for such an endeavor. But luckily Fluid Pudding herself emailed me some links and I chose this one, a straightforward recipe that I was more than thrilled to discover contained no odd animal parts at all. Not only was it super easy but if it is something Pioneer Woman has touched then it can only be deemed as golden. That woman can home school her brood of nine, rustle up cows, take amazing pictures and manage to look as though none of it even phases her, girl’s gotta make good pudding, I would think. And it was good. Good in the way that is so delightful that it can only be bad. I traded out the whiskey for rum since our liquor cabinet was whiskey-less and used Texas toast instead of sour dough bread. But holy hell if it wasn’t the most divine dish to pass my lips in a very long time. Even Devon allowed some of the sauce to pass his lips, that is how dreamy this dish is. Thank you, Angela, for sending this bit of loveliness our way. So smitten am I with bread pudding that I fear a size 8 is now a fruitless effort.

Devon and Cass got into a competitive bread tearing race. The recipe called for cut pieces of bread but the thought of letting both of them loose with sharps is just asking for an ER trip. Devon loved the sauce and bread separately but the combination of the two proved a bit too much for his ability to tolerate texture. His loss, more for me. He still managed to rally and dance on the island while chanting his own bread pudding song. We couldn’t wait long enough for it to cool down and ended up with a few burnt fingers trying to fish chunks of yumminess from the goo.