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Volume 17 Number 63
RECIPE DU JOUR
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Mango Coconut Rice Pudding
1 cup jasmine rice
1 (14 oz.) can reduced-fat coconut milk
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons rum or 1 tsp. vanilla extract, optional
3/4 cup sweetened shredded coconut
2 mangoes, peeled and diced
Preheat oven to 375F. Grease a shallow 2 1/2-quart baking dish.
In a medium saucepan, bring 1 3/4 cups water to a boil. Stir in rice, cover, reduce heat and simmer until all water is absorbed, 20 to 25 minutes. Remove from heat.
In a small saucepan, during last 5 minutes of cooking rice, bring coconut milk, sugar and salt to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook for 4 minutes. Turn off heat and stir in rum.
Fluff rice with a fork. Pour coconut milk on top. Cover with wax paper; let rest for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, spread coconut in a single layer on a baking sheet and toast in oven, stirring frequently, until golden brown, 7 to 10 minutes. Let cool. (Coconut can be toasted up to 1 week ahead; store airtight.)
Serve rice pudding at room temperature or warmed slightly on stove top, topped with a sprinkling of mango and toasted coconut. Makes 6 servings.
. . .
Nutritional Information
Amount per serving
Calories: 323
Fat: 8g
Saturated fat: 6g
Protein: 4g
Carbohydrate: 60g
Fiber: 2g
Cholesterol: 0mg
Sodium: 426mg
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AT THE MIDDLE PASSAGE
By Walter Mills
Coffee at the Metro Diner
I thumbed through the little notebook where I write down stray thoughts and ideas for columns and came across the cryptic note – Metro Diner.
The Metro Diner is a pretty nice place on W. 100th Street in New York City where I ate breakfast once. I ate at the counter and had an omelet, toast and coffee and paid around $4.95. Nothing of any particular interest occurred at the Metro Diner.
I was supposed to meet Mike and Elizabeth, literary agents from San Francisco, at a hotel dining room up the street. I arrived a few minutes before seven that morning, and sat down in the small hotel lobby next to the dining room. I hadn’t seen Mike and Liz for over ten years and I wondered how it would feel to see them again.
They had once agreed to represent a novel I had written, and for a while I had felt like I was about to shoot up into the rarefied literary atmosphere where the Mailers and Doctorows dwell, but they couldn’t sell my book and the rocket sputtered and fell back to earth. Not their fault; I’m not sure who would have ever bought it.
I sat in the gilt and chintz lobby and the minutes ticked away. Every few minutes I got up and peered into the restaurant to see if they had slipped in through another door. At a quarter to eight I went farther into the restaurant and looked into some of the side rooms, white tablecloths and crystal and shining silver on the tables. I wasn’t used to that sort of thing anymore. I had lived in a small town for a number of years, and most places I ate breakfast used a paper place setting on a Formica table.
As I passed the host station the phone rang and I knew as soon as the man in the beautiful suit picked it up that it would be Mike or Liz calling to say they couldn’t make it. And it was. Mike was on the line, upset and apologetic that they had overslept. We arranged to meet later at the conference we were both attending and I gave the phone back to the host.
I thought I might as well stay and have breakfast since I had waited so long. I studied the menu that was hanging in a silver frame near the door. I didn’t get very far. Coffee $4 a cup. Continental breakfast, coffee, roll and juice, $16.95. I backed away and hurried out into the street.
Two blocks away I came across the Metro Diner and a man in a leather jacket talked on the phone and pointed people toward empty seats. Since I was alone he pointed me toward the counter. I sat with a line of other single customers, drank coffee, ate breakfast and read the paper.
Nothing much happened at the Metro Diner. I wonder why I left myself the note.
. . .
Read more of Walt’s writing at his blog:
http://americanimpressionist.wordpress.com/
(The above column originally appeared in the Centre Daily Times and is copyright © 2014 by Walter Mills. All rights reserved worldwide. To contact Walt, address your emails to awmills@verizon.net ).
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