It seemed like a good idea ……

As many of you know, I love to cook and always enjoy a challenge, so I decide to embrace my new culture and whip up a home-made Christmas pudding. OK – it’s much more British than Aussie but they eat them here and the one's I've tried are quite tasty. The fact the recipe involved soaking dried fruit in alcohol for a few weeks, may have impacted my decision.

Mistake #1 occured when I went to the internet for a recipe instead of calling several of the people I know that have experience making Christmas puddings.

Mistake #2 would be not thoroughly reading and pondering the recipe prior to stirring. I was enamored with the first step of combining raisins, sultanas, apricots, currents and ginger (a total of 2.5 pounds of fruit) with a bottle of brandy AND a bottle of sherry and fermenting it for a couple of weeks. I diligently stirred the soaking fruit each day as directed and tested a few heaping spoon full’s to make sure that the process was working.

Mistake #3 was not just eating all of the fruit and saving myself from the culinary disaster to come! The drunken fruit was the best part of the entire debacle.

Mistake #4 was telling my friends that I had undertaken the Christmas pudding endeavor and that it was be served at the party on Christmas eve. My healthy self-confidence prevented me from attempting to manage the pudding expectations of the invited guests.

Mistake #5 was selecting December 22 as the right day to convert the luscious alcoholically plumped fruit into a Christmas pudding. The temperature on the 22nd was 100 degrees and the humidity was 50%. The reason the weather is relevant is that I had selected a traditional recipe that used boiling water as the method of cooking. Having a HUGE vat of water boiling in your kitchen for MANY hours is much more appropriate if you live somewhere that isn’t in the tropics and the AC isn’t running full blast before you fire up the stove.

Mistake #6 was that as I read through the next step of the recipe I repeated Mistake #1. I could have minimized some of the mess if I’d consulted someone who knew what the bloody hell they were doing! It’s possible that the amount of booze soaked fruit I was consuming during this process impacted my judgment. I added the recipe prescribed amount of spices, flour, sugar and eggs to the fruit and began to stir. I immediate realized that a MUCH bigger bowl was needed. The recipe directed me to continue adding flour, sugar and eggs until the content of the bowl reached the consistency of a stiff scone batter. No exact measurements were given. This was a turning point for me. The only scones I’ve ever made were a thick doughy texture. I committed Mistake #1 AGAIN and continued to add dry ingredients attempting to reach some form of stiff dough.

It was about this time when my darling husband came into the kitchen and asked “How’s it going?” When he saw the size of the bowl and the volume of batter, his eye brows reached new levels. Being the detailed analytical type, he immediately suggested we weigh the bowl. Although knowing the weight of this monstrosity did nothing to help turn it into a taste treat, I agreed to weigh it. I was mildly intoxicated and had no idea of what else to do. It came in at 7.5 kilos which is about 16.5 pounds. The contents of the bowl were still rather soupy and I was beginning to realize that something might be wrong. I finally called my dear friend and former host mother Margaret and listened to her laugh hysterically while I told the saga of the Christmas pudding. When she wasn’t laughing uncontrollably, she suggested I call her for a proven recipe next time I want to try Aussie cuisine. She was able to clarify how the boiling of dough processes works. Basically you soak a piece of unbleached muslin in water, wring it out, lay it flat and dust it with flour. You than dump the batter in the middle and pull the sides of the fabric together and tie securely at the top. Then promptly submerge the “bag” into boiling water and boil for several hours.

With that critical piece of information, I hopped into the car and headed to the fabric store for the muslin. The lady at the store informed me that the cloth had to be laundered prior to cooking with it. So I came home, did a load of laundry and filled the two biggest pots I own with water and put them on to boil along with the tea kettle full of water so that I could refill the pots as they boiled off. I finally started pouring batter onto the fabric and it became clear that I had a shit load of pudding batter! I ended up with one about the size of a volley ball and 4 about half that size. These bad boys must be completely submerged in boiling water for 4 hours to cook thoroughly.

Mistake #7 was deciding to cook each and every one of these bundles instead of tossing them in the rubbish. After 9 hours of boiling water, the house was very warm and unpleasantly humid. Dave had gone into hiding and Margaret called a couple of times for a pudding update. She didn’t even have to identify herself when I answered; I recognized the hysterical laughter from the first call!

After the boiling process, the puddings must be hung to cool and dry; this required a bit of ingenuity and engineering but I found a solution. At this point, I had lost my buzz, I was hot, tired and VERY unimpressed when Dave said he hope it tasted better than it looked.

Christmas Eve arrived and the party began. Upon entering several of the guests “What’s that?” while pointing to the big brown blob the resembled a brain.

Only after several glasses wine was anyone brave enough to try it. The general consensus was “It’s not as bad as we thought it would be.” I’m pretty sure they were just being polite because although the flavor wasn't bad it had the consistancy of rubber. Next year I’ll drink the brandy and sherry and buy the Christmas pudding.