My father was the sole bastion of masculinity in our family. Despite a powerhouse wife and three headstrong daughters, he managed to hold his own witthout being the least bit tyrannical. A relentless tease, he could often convert an estrogen meltdown into a laughing fit. (Though occasionally, I'll admit, it did backfire.) He never expected to be waited on but, with all those women around, he didn't spend much time in the kitchen. In fact, I don't think he ever made anything more complicated than toast. He wasn't picky, though. Pretty much anything you served him, he ate with gratitude. There was just one thing he couldn't stomach: lumps. He balked at cream of wheat. Especially if you forgot to stir and it formed those mealy lumps. He would take a tentative bite and then, quite literally, gag. We all found this hysterical. I only saw it happen a few times, but the memory is vivid. Forty years later, it came to mind as I made a big batch of tapioca pudding. Perhaps not quite my dad's idea of a celebratory dish but I'll eat it for him today, on what would have been his 88th birthday.

Did you know that tapioca is made from cassava (Manihot esculenta), a plant native to South America? It's a starchy, tuberous root that is dried and formed into those perfect pearls. High in carbohydrates, cassava is an important, drought-tolerant food crop in the developing world, and it appears with regularity in Southeast Asian cuisine, but in our neck of the world it's largely associated with old-fashioned desserts. I seem to be missing the lump-loathing gene and have always been extremely fond of tapioca pudding. Its gorgeously gooey viscosity resembles nothing so much as frog's eggs. Creamy, custardy and neutral enough to support almost any flavor, it's a perfect foil for vivid tastes like chocolate, ginger and citrus.

 

Despite its gummy texture, tapioca is gluten-free. (It's also virtually free of protein and vitamins, so it's not exactly a health food.) The pearls cook much faster when they are first rehydrated by soaking. They easily absorb water equal to twice their volume, becoming delightfully rubbery and swollen. Their pleasant chewiness is front and center in the "bubble teas" (boba) popularized in Asia, and now widely available in Chinatown. One note: These photos feature large tapioca pearls but the recipe below calls for the smaller ones; not instant (which is good for thickening pies).

I created this recipe last summer to conclude a Southeast Asian supper. It features the irresistible floral-citrusy tang of kaffir lime leaves—what I prefer to call wild lime—and two rich milks commonly found in the tropics: coconut and condensed. It's a bit decadent, I'm not going to lie to you. I made it this weekend, because the oral surgeon who removed my two right widsom teeth told me to stick to soups and puddings. It went down like a charm, lumps and all.