Appeasing the god of small things: Christmas Eve

There’s been a bit of snow in Europe this week, which has seriously disrupted travel for many. As one of those whose flight was cancelled and re-booked for a later date I was part of a small group of friends ‘stranded’ in Cairo. Last Sunday and Monday the weather remained bad and it was uncertain if any of us would be able to get to our various destinations in time for Christmas so we planned to have a Christmas Day of ‘the left behind’. My contribution would be a Christmas pudding: this would give me something to do other than fret about getting to London to see family, buy yet more presents and catch up on work. It’s very difficult to settle to anything very productive when you are in a jittery, restless, waiting state but cooking is a therapeutic activity.

A pudding basin and steamer were essential pieces of equipment and I did manage to find a bowl of roughly pudding shape. No steamer though, so I had to make one from a tin tray (pierced with holes) and lots of tin foil. I had to substitute some of the ingredients too, mostly the dried fruit: lots more sultanas than the recipe, plus prunes and dates; for the candied peel, a dollop of marmalade.

By Wednesday it seemed that we all might be able to go: the weather had improved dramatically and airlines and airports were tackling the backlog of travellers. Should I continue with the Christmas pudding? Would there be any point? The ingredients I’d assembled so far (fruit marinading in brandy - shown in the photo) could be made into something else (mince for mince pies). However, when I voiced this idea at the bar (where ‘the left behind’ have been meeting on a daily basis to stay sane) the answer was a resounding NO! I couldn’t abandon the pudding now as it would jinx everything, tempt fate, Nature and the gods. Worse, human arrogance could provoke them! I agreed readily. We all felt the same, which says something about human nature, superstition and a deep, primitive desire to somehow control the uncontrollable.

So, the pudding is made, complete with brandy and a 25 piastre piece (instead of a sixpence). ‘The left behind’ has been dwindling and now, with two friends flying in less than an hour, I am the last, ‘the final left behind’. I’m due to fly this afternoon and hoping that I’ve done enough to appease the god of small things so that it all goes well. Wish me luck, cross your fingers, offer up a prayer, whatever works for you, as I would really like to see my family this Christmas!

The pudding recipe

Ingredients:

• Serves 8 - 10
• 1lb /450g dried mixed fruit (use golden raisins/sultanas, raisins, currants)
• 1 oz /25 g mixed candied peel, finely chopped
• 1 small cooking apple, peeled, cored and finely chopped
• Grated zest and juice ½ large orange and ½ lemon
• 4 tbsp brandy, plus a little extra for soaking at the end
• 2 oz /55 g self-raising flour, sifted
• 1 level tsp ground mixed spice
• 1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 4 oz /110 g shredded suet, beef or vegetarian
• 4oz /110g soft, dark brown sugar
• 4 oz /110 g white fresh bread crumbs
• 1 oz /25 g whole shelled almonds, roughly chopped
• 2 large eggs

Preparation:

• Lightly butter a 2 ½ pint/1.4 litre pudding basin.
• Place the dried fruits, candied peel, apple, orange and lemon juice into a large mixing bowl. Add the brandy and stir well. Cover the bowl with a clean tea towel and leave to marinate for a couple of hours, preferably overnight.
• Stir together the flour, mixed spice and cinnamon in a very large mixing bowl. Add the suet, sugar, lemon and orange zest, bread crumbs, nuts and stir again until all the ingredients are well mixed. Finally add the marinaded dried fruits and stir again.
• Beat the eggs lightly in a small bowl then stir quickly into the dry ingredients. The mixture should have a fairly soft consistency.
• Now is the time to gather the family for tradition of taking turns in stirring, making a wish and adding a few coins.
• Spoon the mixture in to the greased pudding basin, gently pressing the mixture down with the back of a spoon. Cover with a double layer of greaseproof paper or baking parchment, then a layer of aluminum foil and tie securely with string.
• Place the pudding in a steamer set over a saucepan of simmering water and steam the pudding for 7 hours. Make sure you check the water level frequently so it never boils dry. The pudding should be a deep brown color when cooked. The pudding is not a light cake but instead is a dark, sticky and dense sponge.
• Remove the pudding from the steamer, cool completely. Remove the paper, prick the pudding with a skewer and pour in a little extra brandy. Cover with fresh greaseproof paper and retie with string. Store in a cool dry place until Christmas day. Note: The pudding cannot be eaten immediately, it really does need to be stored and rested then reheated on Christmas Day. Eating the pudding immediately after cooking will cause it to collapse and the flavours will not have had time to mature.
• On Christmas day reheat the pudding by steaming again for about an hour.

You shouldn’t play with your food!!

Looking for recipes online, as I often do, I’m amazed (and grateful) at the variety that’s available for every single thing you could possibly want to cook. Usually – a lifetime’s habit – I opt for the easy recipes. I’ve found that the complicated versions of many a standard recipe, where the results were meant to be special, were often not! Sometimes recipes are over complicated, and cooks/chefs seem to be in a kind of competition to be the most innovative and, though I don’t doubt that this produces some delicious results, it has the effect of taking us away from the simple, but still so good, dishes. This can make you feel that the simple is simply not good enough and that you have to change and add.

Some food is so special and delicious in its natural state that it’s ‘gilding the lily’ to add too much to it. I’m reminded of France: a friend made a dish of oysters grilled with a cheese and cream sauce. It looked spectacular but the French guests were bemused (and some were devastated). How could anyone play around with this wonderful shellfish? It was already a miracle of nature, with its rough, grey outer shell contrasting with the gleaming, smooth interior; it needed no other form to present it. The mouthful that tasted of the depths of the sea - salty, clean, refreshing - needed only the addition of a squeeze of lemon to enhance the flavour: anything more was too much.

Today, I bought far too much fruit from the stall outside my apartment. I was only going to buy bananas but as I arrived so did an ancient car laden with fruit and vegetables. Two farmers unloaded boxes, bags and crates of beautiful, fresh produce so I couldn’t resist! Of course, afterwards I wondered how I could possibly eat it all while it was still fresh. Well, I couldn’t, so decided to share it – this would be my contribution to a brunch I’d been invited to. In my kitchen trying to decide what to make, I regarded the fruit. It really didn’t need anything added: it was perfect as it was. All I needed to do was put it together in a fruit salad – so simple, yet so delicious.

I don’t think I need to tell anyone the recipe for this one (any fresh fruit will do!) except to say that the fruit is in freshly squeezed lemon and satsuma juice.