It’s done. I have made a christmas pudding. I am quite proud of myself even though that thing looks pretty vile and mildly aggressive. For now, it’s perched on top of the kitchen cabinet glaring down at us like a fat crow. And I am beginning to think that I might just forget about it up there. After all, I have no intention of laying hand on it. And, as I was repeatedly assured, it wouldn’t do it any harm. Xmas puddings last for years.
For new-comers, these deserts are a mildly puzzling phenomenon, because unlike their name would suggest, they are neither pudding nor uniquely tied to christmas. And even if they belong to xmas like Santa and his gang of elves, this homeliest cousin of all fruitcakes is likely to make a reappearance at many other occasions throughout the year (and not just because somebody forgot to get it down from the kitchen cabinet earlier on).
It’s a strange thing but this smelly calorie bomb will show up again and again at christenings, birthday parties, and even weddings. And much like a grumpy aunt it will sit there and stew for everyone else to see or ignore.
Oddly enough, I can’t remember what sort of wedding cake Matt and I had. But I am sure if it had been a xmas pudding, I would. The resulting trauma would be severe.
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