Final recipe of the day, this is #5! I have wanted to make a traditional British pudding for quite a while, and had honestly intended to do it last year, but my suet took months to arrive from the UK. And I wanted it to be authentic. So this year it is! I went with Nigella Lawson's recipe, and it's everything she promises - flavorful but not super heavy. I also wanted to do a hard sauce for the first time, and it melts into the hot pudding in the best way. For what is essentially a fruit cake, this was surprisingly good.
Ultimate Christmas Pudding
Adapted from Nigella Lawson
1¼ cups currants
1 cup golden raisins
½ cup roughly chopped pitted prunes
¾ cup Pedro Ximenez sherry
⅔ cup all-purpose flour
2⅓ cups fresh breadcrumbs
14 tablespoons grated suet or coarsely grated vegetable shortening (freeze overnight to make it easier to grate)
¾ cup dark brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon baking powder
Grated zest of 1 lemon
⅔ cup all-purpose flour
2⅓ cups fresh breadcrumbs
14 tablespoons grated suet or coarsely grated vegetable shortening (freeze overnight to make it easier to grate)
¾ cup dark brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon baking powder
Grated zest of 1 lemon
¼ cup candied orange peel
¼ candied citron
3 large eggs
1 medium apple (peeled and grated)
2 tablespoons honey
½ cup brandy (to flame the pudding)
3 large eggs
1 medium apple (peeled and grated)
2 tablespoons honey
½ cup brandy (to flame the pudding)
Hard Sauce (for serving, below)
Put the currants, golden raisins, and scissored pitted prunes into a bowl with the Pedro Ximénez, swill the bowl a bit, then cover with clingfilm and leave to steep overnight or for up to 1 week.
When the fruits have had their steeping time, put a large pan of water on to boil, or heat some water in a conventional steamer, and butter your heatproof plastic pudding basin (or basins), remembering to grease the lid, too.
In a large mixing bowl, combine all the remaining pudding ingredients (except the brandy), either in the traditional manner or just any old how; your chosen method of stirring, and who does it, probably won’t affect the outcome of your wishes or your Christmas.
Add the steeped fruits, scraping in every last drop of liquor with a rubber spatula, and mix to combine thoroughly, then fold in cola-cleaned coins or heirloom charms, if desired. If you are at all frightened about choking-induced fatalities at the table, do leave out the hardware.
Scrape and press the mixture into the prepared pudding basin, squish it down and put on the lid. Then wrap with a layer of foil (probably not necessary, but I do it as I once had a lid-popping and water-entering experience when steaming a pudding) so that the basin is watertight, then either put the basin in the pan of boiling water (to come halfway up the basin) or in the top of a lidded steamer and steam for 5 hours, checking every now and again that the water hasn’t bubbled away.
When it’s had its 5 hours, remove gingerly (you don’t want to burn yourself) and, when manageable, unwrap the foil, and put the pudding in its basin somewhere out of the way in the kitchen or, if you’re lucky enough, a larder, until Christmas Day.
On the big day, rewrap the pudding (still in its basin) in foil and steam again, this time for 3 hours. Eight hours combined cooking time might seem a faff, but it’s not as if you need to do anything to it in that time.
To serve, remove from the pan or steamer, take off the lid, put a plate on top, turn it upside down and give the plastic basin a little squeeze to help unmould the pudding. Then remove the basin — and voilà, the Massively Matriarchal Mono Mammary is revealed. (Did I forget to mention the Freudian lure of the pudding beyond its pagan and Christian heritage?)
Put a sprig of holly on top of the dark, mutely gleaming pudding, then heat the brandy in a small pan and the minute it’s hot, but before it boils — you don’t want the alcohol to burn off before you attempt to flambé it — turn off the heat, strike a match, stand back and light the pan of brandy, then pour the flaming brandy over the pudding and take it as fast as you safely can to your guests. If it feels less dangerous to you, pour the hot brandy over the pudding and then light the pudding. In either case, don’t worry if the holly catches alight; I have never known it to be anything but singed.
Put the currants, golden raisins, and scissored pitted prunes into a bowl with the Pedro Ximénez, swill the bowl a bit, then cover with clingfilm and leave to steep overnight or for up to 1 week.
When the fruits have had their steeping time, put a large pan of water on to boil, or heat some water in a conventional steamer, and butter your heatproof plastic pudding basin (or basins), remembering to grease the lid, too.
In a large mixing bowl, combine all the remaining pudding ingredients (except the brandy), either in the traditional manner or just any old how; your chosen method of stirring, and who does it, probably won’t affect the outcome of your wishes or your Christmas.
Add the steeped fruits, scraping in every last drop of liquor with a rubber spatula, and mix to combine thoroughly, then fold in cola-cleaned coins or heirloom charms, if desired. If you are at all frightened about choking-induced fatalities at the table, do leave out the hardware.
Scrape and press the mixture into the prepared pudding basin, squish it down and put on the lid. Then wrap with a layer of foil (probably not necessary, but I do it as I once had a lid-popping and water-entering experience when steaming a pudding) so that the basin is watertight, then either put the basin in the pan of boiling water (to come halfway up the basin) or in the top of a lidded steamer and steam for 5 hours, checking every now and again that the water hasn’t bubbled away.
When it’s had its 5 hours, remove gingerly (you don’t want to burn yourself) and, when manageable, unwrap the foil, and put the pudding in its basin somewhere out of the way in the kitchen or, if you’re lucky enough, a larder, until Christmas Day.
On the big day, rewrap the pudding (still in its basin) in foil and steam again, this time for 3 hours. Eight hours combined cooking time might seem a faff, but it’s not as if you need to do anything to it in that time.
To serve, remove from the pan or steamer, take off the lid, put a plate on top, turn it upside down and give the plastic basin a little squeeze to help unmould the pudding. Then remove the basin — and voilà, the Massively Matriarchal Mono Mammary is revealed. (Did I forget to mention the Freudian lure of the pudding beyond its pagan and Christian heritage?)
Put a sprig of holly on top of the dark, mutely gleaming pudding, then heat the brandy in a small pan and the minute it’s hot, but before it boils — you don’t want the alcohol to burn off before you attempt to flambé it — turn off the heat, strike a match, stand back and light the pan of brandy, then pour the flaming brandy over the pudding and take it as fast as you safely can to your guests. If it feels less dangerous to you, pour the hot brandy over the pudding and then light the pudding. In either case, don’t worry if the holly catches alight; I have never known it to be anything but singed.
Hard Sauce
1½ cups powdered sugar
2 tablespoons brandy (can substitute rum, cognac, sherry, whiskey)
½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract (optional)
Place the softened butter in a medium mixing bowl and beat for several minutes until pale and fluffy. Add the sugar and continue to beat until smooth. Avoid over-beating otherwise the brandy butter will become oily.
Add the brandy one tablespoon at a time, beating between additions, along with the vanilla. Beat just until combined.
Cover and refrigerate the hard sauce for at least two hours before serving, preferably overnight or maximum flavor. Remove it from the fridge at least a couple of hours before serving so it can come to room temp. The texture should be soft and spreadable. To store it keep it in the fridge where it will last for several months.
Makes a little over 1 cup
No comments:
Post a Comment