Tapioca pudding

We've been on a kick lately.  Tapioca Pudding. 

I made it twice in the microwave, but couldn't get it to turn out the same each time.
So then I switched to the old bring to a rolling boil method. Which has worked.  However, my recipe seems not quite as sweet as what you buy in the dairy section at the grocery store.  Not to mention that  I have twice forgotten to add vanilla.  I made pudding today with added sugar and REMEMBERED the vanilla.  Real vanilla. 

During my childhood it was such a treat to have tapioca pudding.  We had a small farm so the major ingredients were there at hand.  Mom ALWAYS used the method where she beat the egg whites separately and then added it before serving  to make a fluffy dessert.   There were so many of us that she probably made a triple batch.  I don't remember ever getting my fill.   Always left wanting more.

"More" is a silly family joke from my aunt Myrtle.  (Everybody should have the opportunity to have one like her.)   If something tasted particularly yummy she would always say, "This tastes like more."

A dear friend's dad is a lot like my aunt Myrtle.  When my friend bakes a pie he says, "it tastes musty.  Musty have more."

My husband's gram had an ongoing joke with him about something being "up to par."    Apparently one time she asked him how was the potato salad, and he responded that it wasn't quite "up to par." 
Gram's potato salad was very simple:  potato, onion, radish, mayonnaise.  As simple as it seems,  for some reason my husband remembers that it was the best ever.  She also made her green salad simply as well:  lettuce, whatever fresh veggie that was available, fresh garlic, mayonnaise.  Big huge chunks of garlic!!  If she hadn't been to the store I can guarantee there was fresh garlic in the window and the salad might well just be lettuce and garlic and mayonnaise.  But my husband thought it was the best.

Then there was my daddy who would come to supper and say, "take a cold 'tater and wait."  It always made me feel sad to think that some poor kid was sitting with a 'cold 'tater' somewhere waiting to eat. 

Which brings me back to the tapioca not being sweet enough.  Perhaps our  palates have been a bit spoiled by so many sugary things.  It wouldn't surprise me if this recipe is exactly the same one my mom made back in the 1950's.  We just ate so simply that a little sugar went a long way.



You are probably correct, too much sugar in our diets, and I think our taste buds get old:)
I had to laugh thinking about the cold tater. Growing up if I struggled to "finish my plate" my Dad would say better finish up there are kids starving someplace. One time I was a bit sassy and said "Send it to them "

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