The Christmas Pudding

Today I'm making Christmas pudding, following my Granny's recipe, written in her own handwriting, which always makes me feel a little sad and  wistful for Christmas' past, but very grateful that I have this piece of her to share with her great grandchildren here today. They may not have known her, but they DO know and love her pudding....for various reasons!
Here's my Christmas pudding memories from last year...

Granny and me

When I look back at Christmas' past, (and is it just me, or do we look back MORE as we get older?), an integral part of it all was Granny's Christmas pudding. Not just the eating of it, although that was pretty great, but the annual ritual of preparing it, mixing it and cooking it.

Growing up, Granny was like a second mother to me - it didn't matter that she had 11 children of her own, I was her first grandchild and she always made me feel special and important - unsurprisingly, I spent as much time there as I possibly could.

Every year about mid November, Granny started the mammoth task of making Christmas puddings for her children and their families. First, there was the buying of industrial quantities of ingredients, and then the soaking of  fruit in Guinness and brandy overnight.

 Next day, there was the weighing, mixing and stirring of several huge basins of pudding mixture, followed by the filling of the bowls, then covering them with greaseproof paper and tying them up with string. Finally, and most time consuming of all, was the 12-14 hours steaming of each one. This took MAJOR commitment -  she often got up several times during the night to top up the water in the saucepans. When they were eventually distributed to each family, I often wondered if they all knew just how much effort had gone into each and every one.

Of course, the best part of all was the eating of it. After being steamed again on Christmas Day, it was almost black in colour, (on account of all that Guinness!), and  heavy, rich and delicious when served up with fresh cream and brandy butter on the side. A veritable heart attack on a plate.

My three brothers in particular, put away vast quantities of the stuff - they LOVED the fact that as an added bonus it made them fart... a lot. Even more than usual, in fact,  which was quite a feat - to them it was a gift that kept on giving,  if you like. The leftover pudding (we always got an enormous one), was wrapped in tinfoil and gradually eaten over the holidays. Actually, it was often just nibbled straight from the fridge and Christmas wouldn't have been the same without it.

Granny died in March 1999, just a few months before our Anna, her first great grandchild was due. There had been great excitement on both sides of the Atlantic when she agreed to come and visit us that summer in Virginia, but tragically it just wasn't meant to be. Later when Anna was born, I found it comforting to think that she had lovingly held her even before we did. I miss her still.

So it's a little bit special to have her handwritten pudding recipe in front of me now and it's an honour to follow in her footsteps with this Christmas tradition.
 I'll not lie -there's been a few disasters - for instance,  several years ago, I committed the unforgivable error of letting the pans boil dry. That combined with the use of plastic pudding bowls meant an unprecedented pudding disaster. Unless you prefer your pudding with melted polymers, of course.
 Thankfully, the birds didn't seem to mind - I just picked out the plastic and they feasted like kings and that year we had the fattest robins for miles around.

This year I wisely stuck to glass and ceramic bowls, and thanks to Mr Google I also finally worked out how to steam them in the Aga - sooooo much easier, no pesky topping up required and now I'm kicking myself that I didn't realise this before.

And On Christmas Day I'll take a piece and remember my Granny and if it tastes half as good as hers did, I'll be very happy ...(that said, with four boys, we could possibly live without the 'hilarious' side effect of enhanced flatulence!)

Happy Christmas Granny   xxxxx

Key Words

You know, I'm really chuffed that a growing number of people are reading this wee blog, no matter how they happened upon it, and it's even better if they decide to pop back again and pass the time of day!
I must admit though, it always makes me laugh how some folks stumble across my blog by accident- by typing  certain key words into Google. For example, someone recently found it by typing in 'roomy hips'....and I don't mind telling you I was affronted...not least because it's true!
 Some searches make more sense than others -unsurprisingly 'caramel squares' is a big favourite and 'leopard print shoe wedge' pops up more often than you might think!
 Other more 'out there' searches, have included the priceless 'Gerard Depardieu front tooth missing', 'beach sexy for unfit' and 'camping insulated butter dish'. I love it! It always gives me a giggle, and sometimes I wonder if any of them actually stick around...I do hope so!

Dress it up, dress it down!

Well here, it looks like I'm definitely off to London in September for these MAD Blog awards...to a fancy schmancy hotel in Bloomsbury, if you don't mind, where I'll be quaffing (free!) cocktails and hobnobbing away with the other finalists. Yep, it's a dirty job.....
There WAS an initial question mark over whether I could go or not-Oh, the drama of it- one minute, I didn't even know there WAS an awards ceremony, and the next there was the nail biting possibility of a clash with my sister's wedding! (Which obviously I'd never DREAM of missing... and anyway, all of my babysitting options are guests!) Crisis averted though, as it turns out they're 2 weeks apart. Phew! (I just KNOW you were on the edge of your seat there.)
This meant, that I was then able to tie down my (ever accommodating ) Ma & Da for babysitting duties, so now we're completely sorted....in that department anyway. I mean we've still to book our Sleazy Jet flights, (where I'll definitely learn from my mortifying Exeter experience and book the extra bag)... And then, there's the MAJOR issue of what to wear. Yes indeedy, it may be 4 months away, and I probably SHOULD be worrying about giving good blog between now and then, and/or selling my soul/body for votes, (as there can be no doubt that I'm the long shot), but no, right now, for me, it's all about the dress.. Or dresses to be exact...because that wedding that I mentioned before? Yours truly is a bridesmaid, or more accurately-a 'matron of honour'.
 Jude unwittingly fueled my anxieties about this when he asked me yesterday, 'Mummy, are bridesmaids not usually about the same age as the bride?' Ouch! Loverboy snorted with laughter, because, it's true, I am twelve years older that my sister.... and four sizes bigger. My other sister (who's just the ten years younger), is also a bridesmaid....or is she? You see, we won't actually know for sure until the day itself, as her second baby is due two days later. And even if she is there, I (shamelessly) can't rely on her to make me look better, because she's one of those annoyingly skinny pregnant people, who just have a perfectly proportioned melon of a belly. (Unlike me, who was blessed each time, not only with the belly, but the arse, thighs and a great big pregnant moon face as well!) Oh, and our lovely twelve year old Anna is a 'mini' bridesmaid. (Yes, that IS her actual title, so she's the yin to my yang, if you will. The Happy Meal, to my Big Mac, so to speak)

Wrong card......

 I've a confession to make-at my own wedding all those years ago, there was a guest there, (I'm not telling you which side!), who was wearing a flouncy, floral number, and my good friend Kim leaned over and whispered in my ear, 'Who's the ancient bridesmaid?' and then we both sniggered evilly. I mean this lady must have been all of, oh I don't know, mid forties? Roll on 16 years, and this is surely bad bridesmaid karma back to bite me up the arse. Who's the ancient bridesmaid now, mwah, ha, ha ha!
 And the other dress? Well, I MAY get a new one but I'm seriously considering a new little number I recently wore to my sister in laws wedding - a lovely silk, Anna Scholz wrap dress. The only issue here, (according to my mother), is that it's too revealing in the chest area. In fact, she helpfully told me that I needed a modesty panel. (No, I didn't know either.) Now, obviously I took this with a huge tablespoonful of salt, as she's a well known anti cleavage militant, and any lingering doubts disappeared when Loverboy unequivocally assured me it was grand altogether, But then later, I WAS a trifle disconcerted when an old, sozzled sleazer, (there simply would be no barge pole long enough), saw me with Luke on my hip and complimented me with "I'm sure that wee fella doesn't go hungry with those puppies!" I mean who SAYS these things? Who even THINKS them?
I wanted to give him one of my renowned withering looks but he wasn't actually looking at my face, so I just stomped off in a huff. The long and the short of it is... I haven't decided. On the one hand, I may not ever get such a wonderful excuse to buy a new dress ever again...but then again, a modesty panel may be just the ticket. I just need to find out what it is first- Mr Google will know....

PS- I would REALLY appreciate it if you would vote for me in the MADs, and maybe this long shot might be in with a chance!?... It's dead easy, closing date is June 6th and there's a button on the right that takes you straight there. I'm up in two categories-Blog of the Year and Family Life  (but you only vote for Family Life) and I literally will love you forever!
While you're there, do take a look at the other finalists -77 cracking blogs in 20 different categories-I'm working my way around them all and loving it!