December. Wedding planning in winter. The irony of planning a June wedding in December is that everything feels urgent and distant at the same time — six months is close enough to panic about but far enough away to procrastinate about. Megan does not procrastinate. Megan has a timeline. The timeline has milestones. The milestones have sub-milestones. I am amazed and slightly frightened.
This week: finalize the seating chart. This sounds simple. It is not simple. It is the most complicated puzzle I have ever encountered, including the time I tried to fix the Jeep's alternator with YouTube and a wrench. You cannot put Patrick's firefighter friends next to Tom's union buddies because they will argue about pensions. You cannot put Linda's church group next to Kevin's cop friends because they will argue about everything. You cannot put anyone near the bar who should not be near the bar, and at a Polish-Irish wedding, the "should not be near the bar" list is very short.
Megan and I spent three hours moving little paper circles around a table diagram. At the end, I said, "This is harder than brewing beer." She said, "This is harder than teaching nine-year-olds." She was right. She's always right. It's exhausting.
Made Babcia's kutia for Wigilia prep — the wheat berry pudding. Also started the pierogi planning for the wedding: I need to order fifty pounds of flour, thirty pounds of potatoes, ten pounds of sauerkraut, fifteen pounds of cheese, and enough butter to concern a cardiologist. The pierogi army assembles in five months. Linda is organizing it with military precision. Tom is trying to stay out of the way. He will not stay out of the way. He never stays out of the way.
After three hours of moving paper circles around a seating chart and mentally calculating fifty pounds of pierogi flour, I needed something that would come together without a single argument or a sub-milestone. Making Babcia’s kutia — the whole-grain, honey-sweet wheat berry pudding that anchors every Wigilia table — reminded me why I love food that does the heavy lifting quietly in the background. This Easy Almond Joy Chia Pudding scratches that same make-ahead, sweet-and-nutty itch on a night when my brain had absolutely nothing left to give; stir it together, put it in the fridge, and let it take care of itself — which is more than I can say for the seating chart.
Easy Almond Joy Chia Pudding
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 10 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 cups unsweetened coconut milk (carton-style or canned, well shaken)
- 1/3 cup chia seeds
- 3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
- 2–3 tablespoons pure maple syrup or honey, to taste
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon almond extract
- Pinch of fine sea salt
- Toppings: 1/4 cup toasted shredded coconut, 1/4 cup sliced or slivered almonds, 2 tablespoons mini chocolate chips or chopped dark chocolate
Instructions
- Mix the base. In a medium bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the coconut milk, cocoa powder, maple syrup, vanilla extract, almond extract, and salt until the cocoa is fully dissolved and the mixture is smooth.
- Add the chia seeds. Stir in the chia seeds, making sure they are evenly distributed throughout the liquid and not clumping together.
- Rest and stir again. Let the mixture sit at room temperature for 10 minutes, then stir once more — this second stir prevents the seeds from settling into a single layer at the bottom.
- Chill. Cover the bowl (or divide into 4 individual jars or glasses) and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight. The pudding is ready when it is thick, creamy, and spoonable.
- Finish and serve. Give the pudding a good stir before serving. Spoon into bowls or glasses and top with toasted coconut, sliced almonds, and mini chocolate chips. Serve cold.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 280 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 85mg