Ah, the Regency Plum Pudding! The quintessential Christmas dessert that, quite perplexingly, contains not a single plum. Why, you ask? Because in the grand tradition of British cuisine, if there’s a way to name something confusingly, it shall be done. Let's not linger on semantics when there’s a history as rich (and sticky) as the pudding itself to explore.
From Pottage to Pudding
Like most culinary marvels, plum pudding began humbly. Back in Roman times, it was a 'pottage,' which, if we’re being honest, sounds more like something your eccentric aunt might serve at a medieval-themed dinner party. This concoction of meat, vegetables, dried fruits, and spices was the kind of dish that made you question your life choices but kept you full enough not to complain.
Fast forward to the 14th century, and the humble pottage had evolved into frumenty, a soupy fasting dish featuring wheat, raisins, meats, and wine. Hannah Glasse, the Regency culinary queen, shared her frumenty recipe that sounds more like breakfast gone awry:
“Take a quart of ready-boiled wheat, two quarts of milk, a quarter of a pound of currants, and boil them. Sweeten to your palate.”
The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy.
Charming, but let’s not pretend anyone at your holiday table is clamouring for boiled wheat.
By the 17th century, the pottage-turned-porridge was on its way to becoming plum pudding, ditching its meaty roots and thickening up with eggs, breadcrumbs, and suet. Beer and spirits joined the party because, let’s face it, everything tastes better with a splash of booze. However, this newfound dessert status didn’t sit well with the Puritans, who banned it in 1664, declaring it unfit for “God-fearing people.” (One imagines the Puritans were just jealous they didn’t think of flaming it first.)
This Puritanical disdain didn’t just vanish into the mist of time. When plum pudding made its way across the Atlantic to the American colonies, its fate wasn’t exactly festive. By the 1660s, the Puritans had a stronghold in New England, and their pudding ban carried on. They found its boozy decadence and rich ingredients too indulgent for their pious sensibilities, denouncing this deliciousness as a “lewd custom.” To this day, plum pudding never really caught on in the United States, where practicality often wins out over five-hour boils and setting food on fire. Besides, pumpkin pie has fewer steps and zero chance of singeing your eyebrows.
The Pudding King
Enter George I, the so-called “Pudding King,” who, in 1714, declared that Christmas without plum pudding was downright unthinkable. Ignoring the protests of Quakers who denounced it as "the invention of the scarlet whore of Babylon" (truly, the reviews were scathing), George I reinstated the pudding as a centrepiece of Christmas feasts. God save the pudding indeed.
By this point, "plum" had become a catch-all term for raisins or any dried fruit, which explains why the pudding has been plum-free for centuries.
Regency Recipes: A Boiled Delight
If you’re feeling adventurous (and have five hours to spare), here’s Hannah Glasse’s 18th-century recipe - not it's different from her frumenty above:
“Take a pound of suet, a pound of currants, a pound of raisins, eight eggs, half a nutmeg grated, and a pint of milk. Mix well and boil for five hours.”
This sounds more like an endurance test than a dessert, but if our ancestors managed it without a KitchenAid, so can we.
(PS: Suet is a type of cooking fat that comes from the hard fat surrounding the kidneys of cattle and sheep. It's also known as tallow.)
Serving the Pudding on Fire
By the Victorian era, plum pudding had taken on its cannonball form, crowned with holly and doused in brandy. Lighting it aflame remains a time-honored tradition - though caution is advised, lest you turn your Christmas dinner into a scene from Great Balls of Fire.
For those seeking fortune, slipping silver sixpences into the pudding is a charming, if slightly hazardous, custom. Just remember to warn your guests before someone mistakes it for an especially crunchy raisin.
A Sticky Legacy
So there you have it: the Regency plum pudding, a dessert steeped in history, brandy, and more raisins than any one dish reasonably needs. Whether you flame it, slice it, or quietly push it to the side of your plate, this quirky concoction is undeniably a Christmas classic.
And while Americans might still side-eye this suet-laden spectacle, across the pond the English will keep dousing, lighting, and eating it - with gusto and perhaps just a touch of fire safety training. Now pass the brandy butter, and let’s toast to a tradition as curious as it is delicious!
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