International Cooking: Sütlaç
By Gianna Beltramo
Fırın sütlaç: the Turkish form of a dish that exists worldwide with a vast number of cultural variations. In sütlaç, a pudding mixture is prepared and then baked under an oven to give the surface a golden color and enhance the flavor. It is typically served cold. Sütlaç is very common in Turkey; it is eaten at various times of the day and enjoyed by many.
I’ve never had any sort of rice pudding before, much less made it. In truth, I haven’t boiled many food items in my lifetime. Looking back, it was one of the most dreadfully stressful—and mildly exhilarating—cooking experiences I’ve ever had.
Our story begins on a Saturday morning. I gathered my supplies, internally questioning whether I’d need such a big pot for the small amount of liquid I’d poured into it. I would come to eat those words—or thoughts, rather—when, just a few short minutes later, I began to chant a never-ending mantra of “don’t boil over, don’t boil over, don’t boil over.” Boiling food is incredibly nerve-wracking. I don’t know how people can do it every day. It was a half an inch of water, and within five minutes it had foamed up enough that some of it was overflowing. So temperamental, rice.
Photo Credit: All photos provided by Gianna Beltramo
Having read over the instructions beforehand, I’d known that once I began, things would move fast. However, the very first step threw me massively off my game: the rice took approximately one-half of a second to boil and I spent the following five minutes with a watchful eye on the pot, having to continuously turn the burner down so it wouldn’t boil over. In doing all that, I completely forgot to measure out the ingredients for the next step beforehand. And after that, it all kind of snowballed. Somehow, I still had time to eat a large quantity of Wheat Thins. I dipped them in the milk-sugar-rice-vanilla-water mixture, because food hygiene is overrated anyway, and found the results to be quite pleasant. The taste of the liquid was quite familiar, invoking a certain sort of nostalgia, but it also just tasted...exactly like what was in it. Which is not a bad thing, to be honest.
If I had to describe it, it’s one of those things that taste absolutely delicious in the moment, but afterwards, when you think back on it, you just wonder “Ew, why did I like that? That’s nasty” but you go back for seconds anyway.
Don’t let this deter you! They were good. I would especially recommend a pairing of Original Flavor Wheat Thins.
As hard to believe as this may be, I’d actually had the situation under relative control. I’d only made several minor messes of the stove thus far, but then it came time to pour the liquid into little cups.
The thing is, I didn’t have little cups. Well, I did, but I only had three and I didn’t want to waste so much food, considering how much pudding liquid I’d made. (Which most definitely was not because I didn’t boil it down anywhere remotely near “enough.”)
It’s kind of ridiculous how many individual problems occurred as the direct result of that mistake. Always boil things down properly, kids.
I ended up having to try to form little pie tin-adjacent things using a sheet of aluminum foil. I kept accidentally poking holes in them as I tried to shape the things, they didn’t really do much to hold the batter in, and they certainly did not fit the perfect Pinterest aesthetic I’d been going for, so I regretted that idea. You know what I should have done instead? Cupcake liners.
There was a two-minute-long interval between me filling the containers and them actually going into the oven; this was because I, in my adrenaline rush, had completely forgotten the egg yolk-and-milk topping. During this time, I performed an action I shall call “frantic egg separation” which was altogether unpleasant.
When I checked in on them about halfway through the cooking process, I was met with the unwelcome surprise of a complete mess. A few factors came together to create the horror show inside the oven. First of all, in my effort not to waste anything, I think I overfilled the cups. And second, the unusual liquid-to-rice ratio probably didn’t do much to stop them from continuing to boil, boiling over, and creating a very non-traditional pancake on the cookie sheet I’d been advised to place under the individual cups.
This substance is also very difficult to clean. Be warned.
Somehow, after all that, the tops were not even remotely browned (as the recipe had prescribed). In fact, I could go so far as to say that they were kind of nasty looking. But they tasted good! My mother made several unsuccessful attempts to pry the pudding cup from my hands, but it was too good. Very sweet, and I loved the texture of the rice. It’s a nostalgic sort of flavor that made me think that perhaps I have had rice pudding at one point or another.
Of course, the lack of boiling down once again took its toll. There wasn’t very much rice in each cup; I’d say that it was somewhere between ⅔ to ¾ pure liquid (well, not liquid really, but substance-that-is-not-rice). It was still delicious, but I get the feeling that rice pudding is meant to have rice in it. Plus, all the rice sank to the bottom, which made for a very strange and jarring contrast in textures.
Because I couldn’t just accept failure, I did the whole thing again the next day!
(With ½ proportions, because I only had three viable containers to use.)
Considerably fewer Wheat Thins were consumed this time around.
It turned out so much better. Since I already had the gist of what was going on, the whole business felt a lot more under control. I cooked them for 22-odd minutes before popping them under the broiler for a couple more to brown, to generally good results. One of them did get a bit burnt, but it was no big deal, considering they were all much more appetizing than their predecessors. As could be predicted, they were pretty much the same in flavor, but there was a major difference when it came to texture. I didn’t really prefer one over another; they were just unique in their own special ways.
This recipe is honestly fairly healthy, as desserts go. (If you can look past the cup of sugar.) It’s quite satisfying, and the coldness is nice. However, I would not recommend it if you’re not a fan of sweet things, because as I just said, there is a cup of sugar in it and there’s not any salt or any other ingredient that will really counteract the sweetness.
I’m not sure whether I would give the experience a very low or a very high rating, for the exact same reason. It was chaotic, frantic, and the kitchen was filled with the sound of my pleas for the liquid not to boil over. I hated every second, and at the same time, I loved it. But honestly, at the end of the day, why would anyone ever cook anything if not for the adrenaline rush?
The recipe: 7/10. The final product: 8/10. Would I do it again? Maybe, someday in the distant future, when I’ve long since forgotten how terrifying cooking rice is.
