By Summer solstice. The longest day. I worked a long shift on Monday and came home in the actual daylight and the light through the apartment windows was still afternoon-quality at seven PM and Liam and Nora were in the living room with the floor covered in blocks and Liam was explaining something to Nora with full architectural intensity. I stood in the doorway for a minute before they noticed me. Just watching. Just the two of them in the summer light.
We have been talking to a realtor. Not seriously yet -- more in the "we want to know what we're looking at" stage, which is the stage before the serious stage and feels more dangerous in some ways because it makes things concrete that have been comfortable as dreams. Houses in Quincy. The neighborhoods we like. The school district question. We have said Quincy for years. Now we are saying specific streets in Quincy. The dream is acquiring address.
Sean made a joke at dinner this week that I have been thinking about since. He said "by the time we get a house Liam will know how to mow the lawn." Liam asked what mowing the lawn is. Sean explained. Liam said he wants to do it. Sean said deal. I wrote this down because there will be a day when Sean reminds Liam he asked to mow the lawn and Liam's response will be important information about his character at that age.
Strawberry ice cream from scratch on Saturday -- the hand-crank machine my parents gave us as a wedding gift, six pounds of fresh strawberries, the cream and sugar and the afternoon labor of churning. Worth every minute. Summer is entirely worth it.
That Saturday with the hand-crank ice cream machine reminded me that the best summer desserts are the ones that ask something of you — time, attention, a little elbow grease — and pay you back in something that tastes exactly like the season. When we had leftover cream and the afternoon still stretched out in front of us, I turned to this old-fashioned vanilla pudding: stovetop, from scratch, the kind your grandmother made without a second thought. It felt right after a week full of big, concrete dreams — sometimes you just need something warm and quietly sweet to bring you back to the kitchen, the light, the now.
Old-Fashioned Vanilla Pudding
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes (plus chilling) | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1/3 cup granulated sugar
- 3 tablespoons cornstarch
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 2 3/4 cups whole milk
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
Instructions
- Combine dry ingredients. In a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan, whisk together the sugar, cornstarch, and salt until evenly combined.
- Add the milk. Gradually whisk in the milk, starting with a few tablespoons to form a smooth paste before adding the rest. This prevents lumps from forming.
- Cook over medium heat. Place the saucepan over medium heat and cook, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon or heatproof spatula, until the mixture thickens and comes to a gentle boil, about 10–12 minutes.
- Boil briefly. Once bubbling, continue to stir and cook for 2 full minutes more to ensure the cornstarch is fully cooked and the pudding holds its set.
- Finish with butter and vanilla. Remove from heat and stir in the butter and vanilla extract until the butter is fully melted and incorporated.
- Pour and chill. Pour the pudding into four individual serving dishes or a single bowl. Press a sheet of plastic wrap directly onto the surface of the pudding to prevent a skin from forming. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or until fully set and cold.
- Serve. Serve chilled, plain or topped with fresh strawberries, whipped cream, or a light dusting of cinnamon.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 115mg