In my Mamaw’s kitchen, nothing went to waste. Bread usually didn’t last long enough to get crusty and hard (my grandmother’s homemade bread was delicious). If it did stay around for a few days, it became bread pudding. I loved that bread pudding! It was scrumptious!

A few months back we visited a restaurant in Dallas called The Bronx Cafe (3835 Cedar Springs, Dallas, TX 214-521-5821). The name led me to believe it was a sports bar, or some rowdy “joint,” but it surprised me. It was a quiet, restful little place.

When we were seated, I asked our waiter what desserts they had. I always ask about dessert first. Life is capricious; y’all know that. Heck, I could drop dead at any second, and I don’t want to go without dessert!

Our waiter said, “Ohhh! We have the most marvelous bread pudding! It isn’t on the menu, because whenever the chef makes it, it sells out in a flash.”

I said, “Great! I’ll plan on having some of that.”

He put on a mock sad expression and said, “I’m so sorry, but I believe it’s all gone!” He then began to wax poetic about the drizzles of caramel on it and the liquor used in it.

I said, “Hold it, buddy! Don’t make me want it if you aren’t going to give me any of it!”

Though the meal was delightful, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have. I was pining for that bread pudding that escaped me. I couldn’t have eaten it, mind you, but I could have taken it home with me for later.

The next week, I was thinking about that bread pudding, and I twisted Mr. Tucker’s arm to make him take me to Dallas to eat. I didn’t have to twist very hard.

When we walked in the door of The Bronx, the same waiter greeted us. I said, “You’ve made my mouth water all week thinking about that bread pudding. I hope you have some.”

He stopped in his tracks with a stricken look on his face. In a stage whisper, he moaned, “We’re out of it!”

I complained and moaned about it, but again had a delicious meal, so I had no reason to gripe. Our waiter was especially attentive, because he knew I was disappointed.

Two weeks later, we dropped by The Bronx. I figured that the third time was the charm. But, dadgum it, the place closes in the early afternoon and opens for the evening crowd! I was hungry then so we had to settle for eating elsewhere.

Last week, we made a special trip to Dallas. I wanted that bread pudding!

As I walked in the door, I pointed my finger at the Maitre’De and said, “You’d better have some of that bread pudding!”

At first, he didn’t think they had any, but I tuned up to wail. I cried, “This is the fourth time I’ve driven from Denton for that bread pudding…”

He rushed to the kitchen and came back to tell me that he had reserved two of the last three pieces for us.

Was it worth four trips? You betcha!

As we left, the waiter (whose name is Keith) handed us his card. “Would you do me a favor and call before you drive from Denton?” he asked. “If we have any bread pudding, I’ll be sure to save it for you.”

Darn tootin’, Keith. And, if y’all are planning to go to The Bronx Cafe, let me know. I want to reserve my bread pudding before you get yours!