The Plum Pudding.

Auckland Star, Volume 304, Issue 304, 23 December 1926, Page 1 (Supplement)

The Plum Pudding.

TO GRATIFY A THIRST FOR INFORMATION. I AN EARLY RECIPE.

(By GEORGE CECIL.)

All of those who eat plum pudding whether out of compliment to their host ess, to the cook, or to the season, 01 because, being blessed with a good diges tion, they can swallow with impunity whatever they are offered, are not interested in the origin of the succulent though stodgy dainty, nor yet in its popularity in countries outside their own. Others, however, possess that thirst for information which prompts children to ask the irritable visitor how many jam pots would have to 1 c placed in a line to reach from Charing Cross to Constantinople. For their delectation, then, is the following information submitted. Although there is no actual record of the first plum pudding ever made, diligent search has revealed the interesting fact that ovr one hundred yars ago it was firmly established in the affections of the public. This is proved by the following recipe, which the famous Soyer culled from a widely-circulated cookery book of the period:— "Pick and stone one pound of the best Malaga raisins, which put in a basin, with one pound of currants (well washed, dried, and picked), a pound and a half of good best suet (chopped, but not too fine), three-quarters of a pound of white and brown sugar, two ounces of candied lemon and orange peel, two ounces of candied citron, six ounces of flour, and a quarter of a pound of breadcrumbs, with a little grated nutmeg; mix the whole well together, with eight whole eggs and a little milk; have ready a plain or ornamented pudding mould, well butter the interior, pour the above mixture into it, cover a sheet of paper over, tie the mould in a cloth, put the pudding into a large stewpan containing boiling water, and let boil quite fast for four hours and a half (or it may be boiled by merely tying it in a pudding cloth, previously well floured, forming the shape by laying the cloth in a roundbottomed basin, and pouring the mixture in—it will make no difference in the time required for boiling); when done, take out of the cloth, turn from the mould upon your dish, sprinkle a little powdered sugar over, and serve with the following sauce in a boat: Put the yolks of three eggs in a stewpan, with a spoonful of powdered sugar, and a gill of milk; mix well together, add a little lemon peel, and stir over the fire until becoming thickish (but do not let it boil), then add two glasses of brandy, and serve separate." It is worth noting that about the middle of the last century even the most down-to-date recipe was founded on the above, while the mode of mixing and applying the ingredients has scarcely altered one iota- during ten fleeting decades. Plum Porridge. Although the plum pudding proper, which is supposed to have played a part in enlarging George the Fourth's naturally portly figure, was not in general request till five years after the battle of Waterloo, its immediate predecessor, plum porridge, has enjoyed a vogue since the earliest days of the eighteenth century. Served immediately after the soup, it was a truly economical dish, for when the bowl in which the savoury mess was served had circulated twice, diners whose appetites were of moderat dimensions found themselves hors de combat. With the best intentions in the world, they could not find room for another course. According to "The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy," an entertaining and informative work published in 1747, plum porridge was made as follows: — Take a leg and shin of beef, put to them eight gallons of water and boil them till they are very tender, and when the broth is strong strain it out; wipe the pot and put in the broth again; then slice six penny loaves thin, cut off the top and bottom, put some of the liquor to it, cover it up and let it stand aquarter of an hour, boil it and strain it and then put it into your pot. Let it boil a-quarter of an hour, and then put in five pounds of currants, clean, washed and picked; let them boil a little, and put in five pounds of raisins of the sun, stoned; and two pounds of prunes, and let them boil till they swell; then put in three-quarters of an ounce of mace, half an ounce of cloves, two nutmegs, all of them in a very little while, and take off the pot; then put in three pounds of sugar, a little salt, a quart of sack, a quart of claret, and the juice of two or three lemons. You may thicken with sago instead of bread if you please; pour them into earthen pans and keep them for use. You must boil two pounds of prunes in a quart of water till they are tender, and strain them into the pot when it is a-boiling." Plenty of ingredients. Plum Broth. Plum porridge was an offshoot of plum broth, a dainty peculiar to the early Middle Ages, though stubborn antiquaries have been known to declare that its earliest appearance is shrouded in the mysteries of the past. As, however, the spices which entered so largely into the preparation of plum broth were not imported into England till the Middle Ages, it stands to reason that antiquaries, like many less learned people, may, when put'on their mettle, talk bunkum by the yard. This, of course, does not apply to the writer. The broth was in reality a kind of semi-sweet soup. A couple of pounds of beef were boiled in a large pan of

water, quantities of different spices being added during the boiling process. Raisins, dates, and even prunes, were brown in, till eventually, though scarcely any thicker than soup, the concoction was almost as rich as plum pudding— and in all probability quite as indigestible! An Unlimited Vogue. Although the stay-at-home English pride themselves on their appreciation of plum pudding, it is equally popular in the colonies. No matter how out-of-the-way a place exiled Britons may find themselves in, by hook.or by crook they almost invariably contrive to have the time-honoured dish served up. In India, for instance, there probably is not one Englishman in a dozen who fails to feed off plum pudding on Christmas Day. Even in the most isolated "stations" each ' Tchansamah (native cook) makes it a point of honour to furnish "Master" with the customary delicacy, while the coloured domestic in charge of the recondite "dak bungalow" (rest-house)- sometimes astonishes the traveller by proudly placing on the table a genuine "perliim pud-deen," swimming in liquid flame, and perhaps decorated with a sprig of holly procured from the Himalayas. In sultry Ceylon, too, plum puddings enter largely into the Christmas menu, and in muggy Burmah, where a natural vapour bath is no uncommon thing on Christmas Day, the expatriated white people eat it with what appetite they may. In short, go where you. will from Port Said to Penambuco, and from the North to the South Pole, true-born Britons refuse to be deprived of the dainty which forms a connecting link with "Home." As to the soldiers who are quartered at home and abroad, were one to cut their ration-of plum pudding, there is no knowing what might happen. As long as the national

dish has been invented has it figured at the man of war's Christmas dinner; fot days beforehand every "non-com" and private in the regiment has looked forward to sampling the dainty. As to the little drummer-boys and fliers, it is the joy of their young lives. Danes, Russians, Germans, Austrians, French, Italians and Spanish, if professing a sympathy for all things English, strengthen the Entente • Cordiale by causing the plat to be served at the Christmas dinner. They, however, eat sparingly of it. Of late the old English custom of inviting a party of merry-makers to stir the Christmas has been revived, and during November many lusty persons have worked off their superfluous energy by becoming amateur cooks. At [these parties the hostess hands her guests sixpences, thimbles, and rings, all of which are throw T n into the savoury mixture to the ultimate danger of those who are cursed with small gullets, or who, hog-like, bolt their food.