Day 11 The year of the puddings.

In my mind, there are some Christmas’s that are identified with the name of an event. The one I have chosen to share with you today dates back some years to when I was at school. I believe I was fifteen, and in that era, I was lucky enough to have cooking lessons. The object of one November’s lesson was to make a Christmas pudding.

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My family were all pleased with that idea, and as my results in cooking had not been too bad so far to date, I was instructed to make several puddings. My grandmother wanted one, my aunt and my direct family too. We bumped up the quantities of the ingredients and I hauled a large basket to school on the day of my lesson. Along with all the ingredients, I also took three glass basins all belonging to my aunt, and in my head, the warning I was not to break said bowls.

Yes, you know what is coming. Almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy on the way up to the domestic science classrooms, which were at the top of the building, somehow I managed to fall up the steps with my large basket in my arms.

All three of the glass basins smashed. Fortunately, the broken glass didn’t contaminate my ingredients and I didn’t get more than a nick or two from the shards, but I seriously worried for the whole session about arriving home to tell the tale.

Despite all the angst and concern, I made the Christmas puddings, and my cookery teacher was kind enough to long term lend me three basins to take the puddings home in. She knew she wouldn’t get them back until January.

The one note of consolation I had over the event was the fact the Christmas Puddings turned out really well and were delicious, despite being stored in the borrowed bowls.

The image I’ve chosen to go with this little tale is one of how I recall Christmas pudding should look, liberally doused in brandy and flaming at the table.

I hope your Christmas pudding will be succulent, moist and a fabulous part of your Christmas meal.

 

My give away today to give one of you something to read while you recover from Christmas lunch is a copy of my story A Gentleman’s Folly.

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