Rice pudding might sound like an unassuming dessert, but its story stretches across centuries and continents, making it far richer than the sum of its simple ingredients. At its core—rice, milk, sugar—it is one of the most universal comfort foods in human history, appearing in Asia, the Middle East, Europe, and the Americas. In India, kheer flavored with cardamom and saffron is a traditional sweet dish, while in the Middle East, roz bel laban holds ceremonial and everyday importance. In Europe, rice pudding entered cookbooks as early as the 14th century, evolving from savory porridges to sugar-laced treats as trade expanded. When Europeans arrived in the Americas, the dish transformed again, mixing with Latin American traditions like arroz con leche. That adaptability gave rice pudding a rare cultural universality, and when New York became a hub of global immigration, it arrived many times over, carried by different communities who each made it their own.
New York has always been defined by this layering of culinary traditions, and rice pudding became a quiet staple in many households. Dominican, Puerto Rican, Italian, Middle Eastern, and South Asian families all had their versions, and neighborhoods across the city reflected those variations. Arroz con leche sweetened with cinnamon could be found in the Bronx, while kheer with condensed milk was common in Queens. Italian rice custards were tucked into Little Italy bakeries. In a sense, rice pudding became an invisible thread through the city’s kitchens: never as flashy as pizza or bagels, but quietly present everywhere. That cultural backdrop explains how, in 2002, Rice to Riches could transform what seemed like a humble dish into a spectacle in the middle of SoHo.
From the start, Rice to Riches was a gamble. The shop turned rice pudding into the sole focus of its menu and dressed it in a futuristic aesthetic: glossy orange-and-white interiors, bold slogans, and colorful plastic containers designed to look like collector’s items. The flavors were playful—everything from tiramisu to rocky road—and the branding embraced irreverence. One famous wall sign declared, “Eat all you want, you’re already fat,” sparking both outrage and amusement. The store leaned into shock value and design just as much as the dessert itself, and the strategy worked. Customers came not only for the food but also for the spectacle, and the shop carved out a unique cultural niche.
That image cracked in 2006 when federal prosecutors revealed that Rice to Riches’ founder, Peter Moceo, had used the business as a front to launder millions in illegal gambling proceeds. The idea that a rice pudding boutique in SoHo doubled as the site of a federal crime case fascinated the public. Moceo pleaded guilty, and the shop’s notoriety deepened. Instead of collapsing, Rice to Riches survived the scandal and, in some ways, benefited from it. Tourists and locals alike found the story irresistible: a dessert shop that was both a culinary oddity and the centerpiece of a money laundering case.
Today, the store continues to operate, its packaging still distinctive and its décor still brash. The scandal lingers in its reputation, but for many customers, that history only adds to the experience. Rice to Riches embodies something quintessentially New York: the reinvention of the ordinary, the collision of cultures, and the embrace of contradiction. Rice pudding may be among the simplest desserts in the world, but in New York, it carries layers of history—ancient traditions from across the globe, immigrant kitchens in the outer boroughs, and a boutique in SoHo where comfort food collided with design, scandal, and survival.
Dining and Cooking