Page 57 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Ah, well at least you made it,’ Jill said brightly.

They waited a few more minutes to give anyone else a chance to arrive, but there was no Frank this week, as he’d had a bit of a cold and wasn’t feeling like coming out on a chilly evening, saying that he’d buy a Christmas Pudding from them soon. The couple from Alnwick were back; they were looking forward to some Christmas Pudding tips and a bit of inspiration. And Charlotte whizzed in at the end, telling them all about her crazy day at school – she hadn’t even managed supper – so it was going to be Christmas pudding for tea for her. Rachel laughed and said she’d make hers an extra-large portion. The group took up their seats, a grand total of twelve. Not bad at all.

Rachel was glad to see the young mums were chatting with Alice. She caught a little of the conversation as she started getting the hot drinks ready, hearing Alice say that she had a baby boy. Kirsty mentioned the local playgroup being good, and it was nice to see Alice being made to feel welcome. It was always difficult being the new one.

After serving out teas and coffees, Rachel stood up at one end of the table and rapped a spoon to get the group’s attention. ‘Okay, well it looks like we’re all here. A big warm welcome to the Pudding Club or should I say the Christmas Pudding Club. There are a few newcomers tonight, so if we briefly go around the table and say our names, that’d be great.’

Introductions were made, then Rachel added, ‘Well, tonight, I’m handing over to my wonderful Granny Ruth, as she has far more experience in Christmas Pudding making than me, and she has a very special family recipe that she’d like to share with you all.’

There was a small round of applause and Ruth stood proudly at the head of the table, ready to start cooking.

‘Well, hello everybody, lovely to see you all. I have to confess I feel a little like Mary Berry standing here with all my ingredients. I’ve been around a while too, like the fabulous Mary, though I don’t think my hair is quite as coiffed or my bakes quite so amazing.’

A ripple of laughter swept through the room.

‘I have eaten my fair share of Christmas Puddings in my time,’ Ruth continued, ‘and this particular one was handed down from my mother with a tweak or two added of my own. I’ll go through it step by step, but my granddaughter, Rachel here, has typed up the recipe for you, so you needn’t worry about remembering every detail, as you’ll have it to take away with you.’ Granny smiled. ‘Now then, being brought up near to the Scottish Borders, this recipe has a nip or two of whisky through it and a lovely touch of warming orange – ideal for a chilly winter’s night.’

‘Ooh, sounds lovely,’ commented Eileen from the WI.

‘Do we get to taste it?’ asked Hannah.

‘Of course, there’s one I made earlier.’ Ruth was now in Blue Peter presenter mode. ‘Well, two in fact. I didn’t think you’d want to wait the three hours or so until this one steams, and then wait another week to let the flavours work through.’

‘Ooh, great.’

‘Can’t wait.’

‘That’s good news; my tummy’s rumbling with you just talking about it,’ said Charlotte.

‘Now then, before we start on the cooking and tasting, I want to tell you a little about the traditions of “Stir-up Sunday”.’

Rachel went around topping up everyone’s tea and coffee cups, while Granny Ruth chatted away confidently. It was lovely to see the old lady so relaxed in front of the group – she was a natural.

‘So, does anyone know how and why it was named?’

‘Well, I know it’s traditionally the last Sunday before Advent,’ said Denise.

‘That’s right, pet. Our good old home cooks spent the Sunday before Advent stirring up their Christmas Puddings. There’s actually a phrase that was used in the Anglican church service on that day: “Stir up, we beseech thee, O lord, the wills of thy faithful people.” Well, being busy Mams and all, I reckon the women churchgoers that day were busy planning how to get ahead with their Christmas cooking, and thinking of the never-ending “to do” list we all have this time of year, while they were in church.’

‘Hah, yes.’

There were nods of agreement and empathy from around the room; the build-up to Christmas was always a hectic time.

‘So, as soon as they left the church, they’d be cracking on with their Christmas preparations and mixing and stirring their figgy puddings and suchlike, so “stir up” stuck in their minds. And Stir-up Sunday it became!’

‘Hah, yes. That must have been it,’ said Brenda.

‘Mind you, if Vanessa was here, Stir-up Sunday might mean something else indeed,’ added Denise, obviously fed-up with that dratted woman’s antics.

The group were smiling away, smitten with Granny’s raconteur style, and more than happy that meddling Vanessa had kept her promise to stay away.

‘Now then,’ Ruth continued, ‘we used to have a tradition at home where everyone in the household would take a turn at stirring the pudding, for a bit of extra luck. Does anyone else do that?’

‘Oh yes,’ answered Christine. ‘My old mam used to do that. I remember standing on a stool to give the mix a stir as a little girl. I still get my granddaughter to do that now, in fact.’

‘Aw, that’s sweet.’

‘And my Nana always insisted that we stir from west to east,’ said Pamela, ‘to echo the journey made by the wise men.’