Tapicoa pudding has always been a favorite. It’s pudding with texture! My earliest memory of tapioca (as we called it, forget the pudding) was when I was 6. My parents had left the 6 of us in the capable hands of friend of theirs while they took their first trip to Germany. This was 1962 when trips to Europe were not all that common, and Mom always said she thought it was their only opportunity so they left the 6 of us (ages 4 thru 18) under the care of an older couple who had never had any children. I know, even reading that sentence makes me laugh. The oldest of the six of us was Joanna, a freshman at Elizabethtown College, and the youngest, Mert (ok, that’s what everyone calls her although her real name is Martha), was just starting kindergarten. So, back to the tapioca. Reba, our caretaker, made dinner which included tapioca for dessert. She must have forgotten it on the stove because as we all had a bowl in front of us, Dan ( he was 12.. of course!) said, “Ugg, this tastes burnt!” And poor Reba burst into tears. Soon after they went home, and Joanna was in charge of us for the remainder of the six-week trip. I never make tapioca without thinking of those days, and I have to smile. Memories. Good, bad. They are precious.
Here I have layered it with a wild blueberry sauce but you can layer it with fresh fruit, compotes or just eat it plain.