Buzz
I may not be British, but I’m drawn to some of their Christmas customs. The one that captivates me most is the Christmas pudding. Imagine making wishes as you stir a mixture of breadcrumbs, liquor, eggs, and dried fruit, steaming it, and then igniting it five weeks later—now that’s an experience. Somewhere along the way, Jesus is likely involved, but I’m not too concerned with that. This year, I’m preparing a Christmas pudding, and I’d love for you to join me. Welcome to the first chapter of my six-part Christmas Pudding Chronicles.
I know, Thanksgiving hasn’t even passed, so why start writing about a Christmas pudding now? Well, the quirky charm of this rich, mahogany-colored dessert lies in the fact that it’s traditionally prepared on the last Sunday before Advent. In simple terms, that’s the Sunday after Thanksgiving (or five Sundays before Christmas, if you prefer). It's not made in advance for party prep, nor is it frozen. Instead, it’s stored at room temperature for an extended period, and occasionally gets a touch of brandy once a week. I like to think of this ritual as ‘curing the cake,’ but we’ll dive deeper into that later. Typically, the pudding is made on Sunday, and that’s when it receives its weekly attention. But to gather the ingredients, test the steps, and share my findings, I think now is the perfect time to begin. I’ll update you on Saturdays with details about what I did, what tools and ingredients I needed, and then you can tend to your pudding on Sundays.
What’s the reason behind making a Christmas Pudding?
I have a fondness for exploring desserts that are unfamiliar to me. It’s a blend of culinary curiosity and a thrill with minimal risk. The worst-case scenario is spending time on something that turns out awful. The best-case? I end up loving both the dish and the process, perhaps even discovering a new holiday tradition for myself and my family. I’m not averse to dried fruit, so my chances are looking good.
How do you go about it?
Christmas pudding (also known as plum pudding or figgy pudding) is all about the process, and that’s part of the enjoyment. You mix the ingredients and steam it on “Stir-up Sunday,” which happens to be next Sunday (right after Thanksgiving). Then, you store it. This is the quiet part of the journey, but I plan on doing the optional ‘feeding.’ Once a week, I’ll nourish my pudding with a few tablespoons of brandy. Aside from the small satisfaction of caring for a ‘pet pudding,’ this should enhance the flavor and moisture of the cake, allowing me to monitor its curing progress. When Christmas arrives, the pudding gets steamed again to warm it up, followed by a dramatic brandy flambé before serving.
Week 1: Soak the Fruit
Since I don’t have a family recipe to follow, I’m turning to Nigella Lawson’s Ultimate Christmas Pudding as my guiding light. She’s British, for one. I admire her cooking style and trust her judgment in the kitchen, so I’m confident she’ll lead me to a great result. She strikes me as the type of person who would happily devour an entire cheesecake with me, then casually suggest we ‘need something salty.’
In her recipe, Nigella recommends soaking the dried fruit overnight or for up to a week. We’ll be soaking a mix of currants, sultanas, and prunes in sherry. Her recipe uses grams, but I’ve also provided measurements in cups in case you don’t have a scale (though you really should get one). I found all my dried fruit at the local ShopRite. In the U.S., sultanas are typically labeled as golden raisins or sometimes ‘sultana raisins.’
I did have some trouble tracking down Pedro Ximenez sherry, which specifically uses the eponymous grape. The liquor store in my part of Brooklyn only carries one type of sherry, so I went with that. Since I’ll be feeding my pudding brandy later, I plan to splurge on a good quality brandy next week. If you don’t drink alcohol, no worries—you can still make a wonderful pudding. Just swap the booze for an equal amount of any fruit juice of your choice.
Ingredients:
150 grams (1 cup + 2 tablespoons) currants
150 grams (1 cup) golden raisins
150 grams (1 cup) roughly chopped prunes
175 mL (¾ cup) Pedro Ximenez sherry (substitute with juice for a non-alcoholic version)
Chop the prunes into quarters, then combine them with the other ingredients in a container or zip-top bag. Seal the container and set it aside to soak overnight or up to a week.
I’ve been stirring my fruit once a day and will keep it up until I’m ready for ‘Stir-up Sunday.’ Technically, that’s going to be Wednesday or Thursday for me, but if you’re following the traditional route, be sure to soak your fruit before next Sunday.
Next week’s edition of Christmas Pudding Chronicles will focus on steaming day. I know I’ll need a large, wide pot with a lid, some foil, and a bowl that can hold about six cups of batter. I’ll share what works well and what doesn’t. Until then, make sure to get your fruit soaking.
