1/? I’m stuck staying quiet with a migraine—my first in 2 blessed months and quite mild, as you can tell because I can still construct a sentence. The whim has seized me to chat about a seasonable dessert: plum pudding.
I make a plum pudding once every other year. I freely admit, I’m stubborn about method. Plum pudding does not require steamers, molds, or pudding basins! You don’t have to spend money on seldom-used tools or clutter your kitchen for this.
Read on — photos follow.
#PlumPudding
Here are the ingredients . I don’t usually run a cooking-show-style set-out when I bake, but with plum pudding, the layout helps me track of progress. Getting to this point is a multi-day venture: a culinary quest, in fact.
Starting from the top left and moving clockwise, first up is a plate of whole-wheat breadcrumbs. I make plum pudding on the last weekend of November. I often have a little time off then, so I bake a loaf of bread for the breadcrumbs. Yes, this is unnecessary, but it’s fun.
Next comes the suet: a half-pound of pearl-white beef suet, finely chopped to crumbs. Chopping takes quite a while, and requires about a pound of suet to start. Grocery-store suet, while just fine, does tend to have rather a lot of pink-to-red portions and plenty of fibrous matter to remove. A lot of the suet melts during boiling, leaving air pockets behind, so the pudding texture depends strongly on the fineness of the suet crumbs.
Did I mention that I only do this once every other year?
Last on the top row is a bowl of chopped candied lemon and orange zest.
Let me say for the record that I strongly dislike the candied fruits and peels that I have encountered in American grocery stores. I therefore candy my own. It’s extremely simple to do, though it must be done a day or two before the pudding, so the peels have time to dry.
I don’t recommend anyone else use their precious spoons this way. To me, it’s a series of culinary combats: my kitchen-witch PC versus The Pudding!
The second row of ingredients is simpler: whole milk, spices from the shelf, whole-wheat flour, and eggs. Of course, there’s a catch.
Mace.
I like it. I love it. I want more of it.
Two years ago, I couldn’t find mace in any grocery within 30 miles of my house. I checked. I blame the pumpkin-spice craze.
Thank goodness for Auntie Arwen’s. Among a plethora of delicious spices, seasonings, and blends, they sell mace blades. I bought some, crushed them, and will never go back. Try it. It’s amazing.
Finally, we reach the bottom of the photo! A bowl full of dark raisins, golden raisins, and currants, soaked for hours in strong tea and then drained. The soaking step isn’t in my original recipe. However, for someone who bakes barmbrack every year, it’s automatic. It’s also delicious.
Wheew. So, everything is ready. Next, I grab a large bowl and a sturdy spoon, stir everything together, and leave it for an hour to let the flavors combine.
#PlumPudding
Now it’s time to make a willpower check. You see, I boil my plum pudding. In a cloth. No steamer, mold, or basin.
While the pudding rests, I fill my largest pot with water and set it to boil. I pull out a flour-sack towel (from a 4-pack purchased in a Midwest hardware store in 2008, but you can find them on-line for ~$10 usd). I swirl it in the boiling water, strew it with flour, dump the pudding on the cloth, and tie it up with kitchen twine. Then it’s unceremoniously dumped into the drink.
The pudding boils for around seven~7 hours. The pudding might scorch, especially if I get distracted by a needy Chinook and forget to add more water. It might become inextricably stuck to the cloth. It might break into a dozen pieces when it turns out. That’s how adventure works: you don’t know the ending.
I love the simplicity of boiling, and I love that a lot of the suet melts into the water instead of being locked in the pudding. The resulting taste and texture are excellent.
#PlumPudding
Finally, I pull out the pudding, let it cool for 18 hours, and then re-wrap it in a fresh cloth. Now for another willpower check. You see, I hang the pudding at the back of the fridge for 3 weeks.
_Anything_ could happen to it in 3 weeks, especially if the electricity goes out or the remains of a turkey are crammed against the pudding. It’s a glorious gamble after a stack of work and a lot of energy use.
I love a good gamble.
In this case, this year, success! It tastes excellent, rich and delicious, especially with just a touch of post-flame brandy. These puddings seem to freeze well, too, which is helpful if the pudding is large and your spouse won’t stop making cookies…
Another culinary quest satisfied!
Although I think I will make a note to increase the cinnamon in 2027…
#PlumPudding