Even if you’ve never tasted Christmas Pudding before, you’ve probably seen it in movies or read about it in the pages of A Christmas Carol. In that classic tale, the Cratchit’s pudding was as round as a “speckled cannon-ball,” was accompanied by a whiff of washing day, and was the special dessert at the end of the Cratchit's Christmas feast.
Growing up, I knew very well what Christmas Pudding was because we ate one every holiday season. However, Grandma's wasn’t round, and it didn’t smell like washing day because she didn’t boil her pudding in a cloth. She steamed it in a tall tin can covered in foil or, later, in a Mason canning jar, like this:
But Christmas Pudding isn't just a dessert. It's a tradition, and part of the tradition is the pudding-making process. I remember helping my grandmother grind the raisins and dates just as she helped her family prepare the ingredients when she was young. In her family, they took turns stirring the mixture, then her dad would drop in a sixpence for the lucky person to find. I've carried on this tradition with my kids and grandkids. They know and love Christmas Pudding too.
Because of this long-standing family tradition, I wasn’t surprised to find Christmas Pudding among the recipes in Grandma’s box. I was surprised to find no less than three versions with slightly differing ingredients.
This discovery sent me on a quest to find the definitive version of Grandma's Pudding. If I could find even two that were alike, that would be the one, so I contacted several extended family members and asked for pictures of their copies of the pudding recipe. As it turned out, they were ALL different. Apparently, there is no definitive version of Grandma's Christmas Pudding.
So, what was I to do for my test? I decided to try the recipe in Grandma's box that was least like the one I've been making. It's pictured at the top of this post. It's a little lighter on dried fruits and contains ingredients my recipe didn't have, namely, lemon peel and molasses. There's no candied fruit, either. I also wanted to test a new pan I bought that’s made specifically for steaming puddings and flans.
First, gather your family members and have them help. If you have a meat grinder, use it to grind the raisins and dates. Turning the handle is a great job for a little one, but if you don’t have a grinder, you can finely chop the dried fruits.
Grate the carrots and the apple. My cute helper and I used a coarse grate for the apples and a fine one for the carrots.
Have one of your helpers combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Another helper can mix the wet ingredients.
The next step is to stir everything together, and traditionally, everyone should take a turn. If you’d like, drop in something a little less of a choking hazard than a sixpence, such as a whole almond, and have some type of reward for the person who finds it.
Oops. Almost forgot the nuts.
Next comes the steaming. I scooped the mixture into my shiny new pudding mold and it just fit.
You can also use two mason jars. Fill them three-quarters full and top them with a lid. Or you can place the mixture in an appropriately sized bowl. Cover it with parchment or foil and tie a string around the top to keep it in place. If you really want to be authentic, heavily grease and flour a 16 x 16-inch square of muslin. Scoop the pudding onto it, form a round ball, and tie it tightly with string. (This does work! We did this last year and set it alight.)
Normally, I use a water bath to steam the pudding by placing the jars, bowl, or cloth-wrapped mixture into a kettle and filling it with water halfway up (three-quarters of the way for boiling the cloth-wrapped pudding).
This year, Google told me that an InstantPot might also work. I was already testing several variables so I thought, what the heck. I might as well add one more. I lowered the pudding mold into my InstantPot and set it to pressure cook for two and a half hours. I figured I would test it at that point and see if it measured done (98 degrees Celsius according to Google).
The resulting pudding was beautiful. Not the speckled cannon-ball of A Christmas Carol, but just as lovely. It only lacked a sprig of holly.
We always serve our Christmas Pudding with a huge dollop of whipped cream. You can also add a sauce, such as lemon or butterscotch. Optional but delicious.
No matter the version, delicious is the correct term for Grandma’s Christmas Pudding. This one tasted lighter, and its texture was more cake-like than the one I’ve made in the past. I'll share that one next year because both are excellent.
To try your hand at making a Christmas Pudding, see the recipe below. Who knows? It might just become a tradition in your family, too.