Now bring us some freakin' PUDDING!
Upper Maine in winter, with Mt. Katahdin looming in majestic repose. Reds & Greens look great in
the snow, and winter-weight pudding nicely warms the belly after an early winter hike.
Why pudding at Christmastime, you might well ask? Because pudding is in many ways the perfect cold-weather holiday dessert-- delicious, substantial, easy to make, easy to store, and easy to serve. There exists a wide range of possible pudding flavors and textures... indeed, something for every appetite. And finally, the generalized pudding genre often provides simplified versions of other desserts that are more ornate, labor-intensive, and time-consuming to prepare.
By "pudding," we don't mean this awful crap.
So what, exactly, DO we mean by "pudding?" Not the artificially-flavored glop pictured immediately above that has been mass-marketed to Americans for several generations... and yet, "pudding" defies precise definition. At DANNY'S TABLE, "pudding" implies something between a free-flowing liquid and a crystalline solid; often a mishmash of diverse components unified as a coherent and flavorful whole, sometimes homogeneous, sometimes not... almost always (but not actually always) a variant of custard, i.e., an amalgam of ingredients loosely bound by partially-cooked eggs combined with milk, cream, or a combination thereof.
While the definition might well be (and remain evermore) somewhat nebulous, the proof, as they say, is, well... in the pudding. In other words, if it tastes good, it IS good.
With that in mind, here are some puddings that taste really good, especially at Christmastime. We start with traditional British Christmas Pudding, a.k.a. "Figgy" Pudding--
Traditional Christmas Pudding-- a British peculiarity from the ages of Dickens and Downton Abbey-- is traditionally ignited before serving. We suggest that you reserve such pyrotechnics for the 4th of July.
OLD-SCHOOL FIGGY PUDDING
We’ve all heard of “Figgy Pudding” in this Bing Crosby Christmas Carol… but what exactly is it? As usual, your Grumpy Old Mansplainer has done the homework so YOU don’t have to.
Here is a concise history of this quintessentially British Christmas dessert. And here is a traditional but doable recipe, seemingly purpose-developed for Downton Abbey devotees. Want a recipe for a modern version that omits the suet? Who can blame you? Click here.
If you, like me, appreciate a helpful visual aid for actually making a recipe, check out this video. Worth noting is that this version is served right away; the traditional versions made with suet are often aged for a stretch of time before Christmas– either from “stir-up Sunday” (the last Sunday before Advent, which was November 24th this year) or even as much as a full year prior, moistened periodically with a brushing of brandy or other liquor as it ages.
Want to go even more old-school and actually set yours on fire for a dramatic table-side presentation? This nice young lady shows us the way. However, if your personal judgment and/or fire codes in your building preclude such indoor conflagrations, Martha Stewart offers an easy recipe for the OTHER proper finishing touch for Christmas Pudding– hard sauce.
And finally, if you like the idea of Christmas staples such as Figgy Pudding but lack the time, the space, or the culinary chops to undertake such an involved production, you are far from alone. Fortunately, Amazon offers a wide selection of ready-made versions available for immediate shipping.
It is certainly tempting to “modernize” old recipes to current culinary and nutritional sensibilities… hell, I do a lot of that myself. But is this even possible with Figgy Pudding? British Celebrity Chef Jamie Oliver offers a recipe for a gluten-free version… and yet it contains rice and corn flours, two ingredients that hard-core glutenistas (like my bride Andrea) must strenuously avoid.
In its classic/traditional manifestation, Figgy Pudding seems a fundamentally unhealthy intersection of most everything we’ve come to renounce in the name of healthy living– beef fat, white bread, sugar, and booze. And yet, to me there is something unique and special about this dish… something fundamentally Victorian that betokens our stout and determined British forebears fortifying themselves to face yet another raw and gloomy North Atlantic winter.
I have eaten this delicacy exactly once in my life. That was several decades ago, when Chef Cathy and I sold Figgy Pudding and roasted goose at Christmastime for our surprisingly receptive takeout customers. I’ll probably never eat Figgy Pudding again, but I do get what it’s all about. And to me, this is one of those dishes that deserves to remain unchanged.
That being said, here are some far easier-to-make puddings for this Christmas season:
Deerfield residents were eating Indian Pudding back when this map was new.
INDIAN PUDDING
(If you must, go ahead and call this "Indigenous People's Pudding." It'll taste just as good.) I first learned of Indian Pudding nearly four decades ago while working at the Deerfield Inn, a colonial-themed hostelry and restaurant in the faux-colonial village of (Historic) Deerfield, Massachusetts.
Indian Pudding is the marriage of an old British culinary technique-- the "Hasty Pudding"-- and New World ingredients, as in corn meal and molasses.
We can do no better than re-post the ultimate Classic Indian Pudding Recipe, which comes to us from not one but two unimpeachable sources-- the venerable YANKEE MAGAZINE, and the even more venerable DURGIN-PARK RESTAURANT, the iconic Faneuil Hall Marketplace eatery that closed its doors in 2019 after more than two centuries in continuous business.
The perfect ending after classic New England Pot Roast at DURGIN-PARK.
We feel compelled to add a few notes about toppings. While all warm puddings call for a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream, Indian Pudding practically screams for it... deliciously melting into the microwave-heated pudding in your dish. Whipped cream works almost as well, but please take the time to whip your own. Why? Next time you're in the supermarket, check out the ingredients listed on a whipped cream container... it reads like a medical disclaimer.
Is pumpkin your thing? Read on...
Pumpkin heaven... who needs a crust? Cooling cracks
mar the beauty of pies, but are just fine with puddings.
I've always loved Pumpkin Pie... and yet I never bothered to learn how to make a decent crust. With this recipe, that skill is rendered unnecessary.
PUMPKIN-MAPLE CUSTARD PUDDING
(Adapted by DannyM. from the pie recipes printed on the backs of canned pumpkin labels.)
Preheat oven to 400ºF and butter a 9" square or 22cm square oven-safe baking dish. (Any smaller and it won't quite fit; significantly bigger, and the layer will be too thin.)
INGREDIENTS:
One 29-oz. can OR two 14-oz. cans of solid-pack 100% pumpkin
(If the ingredients include anything other than pumpkin, keep shopping.)
One 12-oz. can Evaporated Milk
One 14-oz. can Condensed Milk
(Interestingly, pumpkin pie recipes usually call for one OR the other... but using both adds complexity as well as the perfect degree of sweetness.)
4 Large Eggs
One generous tablespoon Pumpkin Pie Spice Mix
(Purists can make their own pumpkin pie spice mix by combining ground cloves, ground nutmeg, and ground ginger to taste. But please avoid abbreviating it to "pumpkin spice.")
1/3 cup Crème Fraîche (HERE is our exhaustive take on this ingredient.)
1/3 cup DARK Maple Syrup (need we stipulate REAL maple syrup?)
Combine all ingredients except the pumpkin in a mixing bowl. Mix thoroughly until spices are evenly dispersed and then add and mix the pumpkin. Pour mixture into the buttered baking/casserole dish and bake for half an hour. Reduce oven temperature to 350ºF and continue baking for another 45 minutes or so. Check for done-ness by inserting a wooden toothpick into the center. Continue cooking as needed until the toothpick withdraws cleanly and the center still has a little "jiggle" to it. Everything will firm up nicely as it cools.
(We added crème fraîche to the recipe after an earlier test batch turned out a touch grainy. The version above was delightfully creamy, yet well firm enough to qualify as pudding.)
And finally, what about Bread Pudding? One might well think of Bread Pudding as simply a casserole version of French Toast-- bread, eggs, milk, and (optional) spices. Here is a fantastic version for Christmastime, one that offers the flavor elements of traditional Figgy Pudding and even (gasp!) fruitcake.
No, this isn't a platter of toast and jam; rather, it is one-half of our test casserole, fabulously moist, squishy, and fork-tender, bursting with familiar yuletide flavors. This can be a perfect make-ahead Christmas morning breakfast for the kids OR a delicious dessert... or both! (Feel free to cut or tear the bread as finely as you wish; we made this version with whole slices just to see what would happen.)
Please insist on the right ingredients for this recipe.
RAISIN BREAD & MINCEMEAT PUDDING
For the custard mixture:
2 Cups Whole Milk
6 Large Eggs
1 Cup Light Brown Sugar
Dash of (real) Vanilla Extract
1/2 Tablespoon Pumpkin Pie Spice
(Optional) dash of Cognac-style Brandy (Christian Brothers is a good domestic brand.)
Mix these ingredients thoroughly. Lightly toast all the slices of one small loaf of Pepperidge Farm Cinnamon-Raisin Bread, and then overlappingly layer them in a large enough (and buttered) casserole dish. Top each slice with a smeared spoonful of jarred mincemeat (Robertson's or Wilkin & Sons Ltd. or another British brand) and then pour the custard mixture over the slices. Cover with plastic wrap, press down gently, and allow to sit for 2 hours or more while the bread absorbs the custard mixture. Cover casserole with foil and place it in a pre-heated 350ºF oven. Check in half an hour and judge for yourself how the bread is firming up. Remove foil and cook for 15 more minutes, Remove from oven and allow to cool.
Think you need a sauce? The hard sauce link from the Figgy Pudding section above will suffice nicely. A brandy sauce seems appropriate, but in your google search look for one that does not include cornstarch, as most seem to do. HERE is a particularly complicated version that eschews cornstarch but essentially requires painstakingly fashioning a second custard mixture... too much work, in my book. I'll add a recipe when (and if) I find a perfect version.
In the meantime, I found that some warm maple syrup and a dollop of homemade whipped cream worked just fine.
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