December has settled over Scotlandville like a quilt — not cold the way northern places are cold, but Louisiana cold, which means fifty degrees and everyone acting like it is the end of the world. Mama pulled out the space heaters. Daddy said we do not need the space heaters. Mama plugged in the space heaters. This is their December ritual and I have stopped trying to mediate.
The LSU application went in two weeks ago and the waiting is the specific kind of torture that college applications impose on seventeen-year-olds — you have done everything you can do and now you just exist in the gap between effort and outcome. I check my email fourteen times a day, which is twelve times more than is rational, but rationality and college admissions do not occupy the same universe. Jada says I need to relax. Jada is right. I am not going to relax.
MawMaw Shirley's house in Baker was the destination Saturday. She had the cast iron pot on the stove when I arrived, which means gumbo, which means four hours, which means I was staying. We made the full version — dark roux stirred for thirty-five minutes, andouille sliced thick, okra cut fresh, crab from the cooler she keeps on the back porch. Her hands are slower this year. She stirs with less force, rests between additions. I pretended not to notice. She pretended I was pretending. This is the arrangement we have arrived at and it works because we both understand that love sometimes looks like looking away.
The gumbo was perfect. It is always perfect. MawMaw Shirley says there is no such thing as perfect gumbo, only gumbo that is close enough, and that the distance between close enough and perfect is humility. I wrote that in my notebook. I write everything she says in my notebook now, because I am seventeen and I understand something that I did not understand at twelve: time is not infinite, and the things worth preserving must be preserved on purpose.
Kayla came home from BRCC for winter break and the house is full again in the way it used to be full — shoes in the hallway, the TV on two channels at once, the bathroom schedule that Mama manages with military precision. Kayla has gotten into graphic design in a way that surprises everyone. She showed me her portfolio Saturday night and it was genuinely good — layouts that had a confidence I had not seen in her work before. I told her so. She said, "Don't sound so surprised." I was not surprised. I was proud. Those are different emotions that sound the same if you are not paying attention.
I made red beans and rice Friday — the standard, Mama's recipe, the one I could make in my sleep but choose to make awake because attention is part of the recipe. Daddy had two bowls. He always has two bowls on Friday. Some things in this house are as reliable as the calendar, and Daddy's second bowl of red beans is one of them.
Daddy’s second bowl of red beans is the kind of moment I cook for — no announcement, no commentary, just the quiet proof that the food was right. This Ham & Swiss Bread Pudding lives in that same register: savory, warm, completely unpretentious, the sort of dish that earns its place at the table not by being fancy but by being exactly what it is. If you’re carrying the low hum of a waiting period — for an answer, for a season to turn, for something you can’t control to finally move — this is the recipe you make on a Friday, because some food is just an act of faith that the ordinary things will hold.
Ham & Swiss Bread Pudding
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 1 hr 10 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 8 cups cubed day-old French bread (about 1/2-inch cubes)
- 2 cups diced cooked ham
- 1 1/2 cups shredded Swiss cheese, divided
- 1/2 cup diced yellow onion
- 1/2 cup diced green bell pepper
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 4 large eggs
- 2 1/2 cups whole milk
- 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon paprika
Instructions
- Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with butter or nonstick spray and set aside.
- Sauté the vegetables. Melt butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add onion and bell pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat.
- Layer the base. Spread the bread cubes evenly in the prepared baking dish. Scatter the diced ham and sautéed vegetables over the bread, then sprinkle 1 cup of the Swiss cheese on top.
- Make the custard. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, Dijon mustard, garlic powder, black pepper, salt, and paprika until fully combined.
- Soak the bread. Pour the custard mixture evenly over the bread and ham layers. Press the bread cubes down gently with a spatula to help them absorb the liquid. Let rest for 10 minutes.
- Top and bake. Sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup of Swiss cheese over the top. Bake uncovered for 45—50 minutes, until the custard is set in the center and the top is golden brown.
- Rest and serve. Let the bread pudding rest for 5 minutes before cutting. Serve warm, directly from the baking dish.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 320 | Protein: 20g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 680mg