Punch her in the face!
Christmas and New Year’s were pretty good. Have had pleasant month off of blogging. Yes, I know. At this rate, I will never, ever be internet famous like Tila Tequila. I know. Maybe racy pictures would help. Hrm.
For the like, none of you who were on pins and needles about whether the plum pudding was edible, it was. It was actually pretty awesome. Taste and texture were exactly the way they’re supposed to be and it looked pretty great too. A lot better than scooping it out of the stupid plastic tub like you’re having Smart Balance for dessert. All the same, if you want a project next December or you’re sick of pumpkin pie and want to try a very traditional historical Christmas dessert, here’s the plum pudding recipe. This one I’m taking credit for.
The Librarian’s Pudding
- 1 cup molasses, dark, light, whatevs.
- 3/4 cup melted butter
- 1/2 cup warm milk
- 2 eggs, beaten
- 1 cup all-purpose flour, plus additional for tossing fruit
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1 pint dried fruit. (anything will work. raisins, prunes, apples, whatever. i had figs, dates and currants lying around, so i chopped the figs and dates and threw them all in.)
- 1 cup candied fruit. (i’m pretty afraid of the green shit in fruitcake, so i used cherries, because even candied, they kind of look like cherries. and i used candied ginger. not a fruit. also debatably authentic. but i like candied ginger, unlike most other things candied.)
- zest of an orange
- 1/4 c. brandy
Combine the molasses, butter, milk, and eggs in a mixing bowl. Next, sift the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and cloves in a large mixing bowl. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients in 3 additions. Toss candied fruit and raisins lightly with flour to prevent sinking and add to batter. Stir in brandy and orange zest.
Butter and flour a mediumish mixing bowl. You need one big enough to fit your whole pudding but small enough to fit in your big soup/pasta/monkey pot. Get a few feet of tin foil and crumple it into a ring for the mixing bowl to sit on in the pot, so it’s not sitting directly on the bottom. At first I sat it on an upended saucer in the pot, as suggested on Recipezaar, but when the water boils, the saucer will bounce, as the bubbles try to get out. Worrisome, as you don’t want the bowl to spill into the water. Bad scene. So, dump batter into mixing bowl, sit bowl on foil ring in pot, fill pot with water to about halfway up the bowl. Probably a good idea to cover the mixing bowl with some more foil, as loose as you like, just to keep the condensation from the lid from falling into the pudding.
Boil for about 3 hours, until toothpick/skewer/knife inserted into the middle comes out clean. It’s like a big, fatty, spiced muffin. Check on it periodically because the water level might drop. Let the pudding cool for 10-15 minutes, then upend and be duly impressed with your festive, glossy dome of awesome. Now wrap it in, uh, cheesecloth (Yeah, whatever. I used a clean tea towel. Pick something not plushy, that won’t get fuzzies on the food.) and park it in the fridge. Yes, just wrapped in a tea towel. It needs to set up and cure for at least a week. After a few days, open it up and have a look. Give it another shot to 1/4 c of brandy, and let it soak in. Then park it back in the fridge till Christmas. Nuke it before serving and top with hard sauce.
That’s it! The original recipe called for a cup of raisins and a pint of candied fruit, but I don’t really like candied fruit. But it’s kind of necessary, so I reversed the amounts. You could use citron, which is candied citrus peel. I don’t like it, so I just zested an orange. I would not recommend using a whole cup of candied ginger, even if you like it as much as I do. That would be kind of overboard. Of course, prunes would be appropriate in a plum pudding, but the English use of “plum” is like the old use of “pea” or “corn.” It’s kind of a synecdoche and means “stone and/or dried fruit.” So your plum pudding is still a traditional plum pudding if your plums are actually figs and currants and raisins.
My parents live in Tucson, and they have a bunch of citrus trees in their backyard. So my mother brought dozens of oranges and lemons. Obviously, we ate the oranges and not the lemons, so she sent them home with me. Unlike the thick-skinned ones in the grocery store, these guys won’t last forever. So I’ve been making lemon stuff. I’m not a cake person, I’ll always pick pie over cake. But this is no ordinary cake. I totally stole it wholesale from Ina Garten.
HOLY CRAP THIS CAKE IS AWESOME
Ingredients
* 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
* 2 teaspoons baking powder
* 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
* 1 cup plain whole-milk yogurt
* 1 1/3 cups sugar, divided
* 3 extra-large eggs
* 2 teaspoons grated lemon zest (2 lemons)
* 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
* 1/2 cup vegetable oil
* 1/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
For the glaze:
* 1 cup confectioners’ sugar
* 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
Directions
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease an 8 1/2 by 4 1/4 by 2 1/2-inch loaf pan. Line the bottom with parchment paper. Grease and flour the pan.
Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt into 1 bowl. In another bowl, whisk together the yogurt, 1 cup sugar, the eggs, lemon zest, and vanilla. Slowly whisk the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. With a rubber spatula, fold the vegetable oil into the batter, making sure it’s all incorporated. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 50 minutes, or until a cake tester placed in the center of the loaf comes out clean.
Meanwhile, cook the 1/3 cup lemon juice and remaining 1/3 cup sugar in a small pan until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is clear. Set aside.
When the cake is done, allow it to cool in the pan for 10 minutes. Carefully place on a baking rack over a sheet pan. While the cake is still warm, pour the lemon-sugar mixture over the cake and allow it to soak in. Cool.
For the glaze, combine the confectioners’ sugar and lemon juice and pour over the cake.
