Our Magic Puddings

BY AYESHA JOY CLIFFORD ©

IN THE great Australian tradition of my favourite childhood story, "The Magic Pudding", we are having our own Magic Pudding(s!) moment here at "Glen Alvin".

In Norman Lindsay's famous children's story from 1917, the grouchy Pudding in his upturned pudding bowl hat had mystical rejuvenative qualities as he strolled about the Australian bush.

Norman Lindsay's "The Magic Pudding" from normanlindsay.com.au

Cake and pudding cooking have become a shared Christmas feature since we married and in their own way, our unorthodox cake and pudding production has its own magical quality.

I like to make enough to have throughout the year, pulling out Christmas baking for birthdays, Easter and perhaps the odd night in with a port and some aged dark, rich pudding in front of the fire in winter.

It's become our way of taking a little symbol of the magic of Christmas - and reminding ourselves to keep the spirit of Christmas in our hearts all year.

Bartie gets into the Christmas Spirit.

I was delighted when, for our first Christmas at our new farm as newlyweds, my husband purchased antique baking tins and pudding bowls from Ebay.

Holding them in my hands when they arrived, I sensed they had hosted many a successful baking and boiling but besides that - they looked just like the upturned pudding tin of "The Magic Pudding".

I lacked experience in big cakes and puddings, but in that moment, I knew these tins would not fail.

So a couple of weeks ago there was a combined effort to chop and select fruit. One secret ingredient is our fabulous Australian dried fruit. Ingredients vary from year to year. I like each cake to be distinct,  just like each year has its own distinct flavour.

This year's pudding and cake fruits drank up rather generous amounts of port, brandy and sherry lavished on them by the husband cook who tended the fruit for several days.

Chop...stir...soak...

The mixtures sat soaking on the stove far longer than usual. This is a farm and of course the animals come first. There was a round of cattle work to be done … immediately. Such are the joys of country cooking.

More sherry, more port,  more brandy ... stir ... soak.

The tins and bowls came out of the shed for their annual day of glory. It looked promising for a moment. The lining of the tins is an exercise in precision folding and stapling and drew close inspection from one little helper.

Posh inspects the vintage tins for inherited cooking wisdom.

But then …

An unusual egg shortage. After overflowing with eggs all year,  the cupboard was bare. Production slowed - perhaps the Festive Season? The crows ate a basket I left on the back veranda. I had to wait for production to meet demand.

More sherry, more port, more brandy ... stir ... soak.

We finally came to mixing and that’s where we truly had our own Magic Pudding moment. I slipped in copious amounts of secret spices and a full jar of glossy, black Beerenberg molasses for good measure. My gorgeous husband lovingly tended his fruit,  making last-minute additions.

Cats walked over the table, the sheep knocked at the screen door. World Christmas carols boomed and a couple of little ears listened over the fence.

  Enjoying carols at their first Christmas.

We probably broke many cooking rules and like most years, I have not much idea what finally went into the mixtures.

Perhaps it's because we are more used to mixing up feed for animals that weigh hundreds of kilos but this year's Christmas cake and pudding mixes just kept expanding into two enormous mixes that became two cakes and three dark puddings in the fabulous antique tins.

Antique tins work their magic.

Perhaps it's the flavour of all those little moments added together, blended with the real secret ingredient - love and attention, sharing and fun.

There could have been a couple of other secret farm ingredients that sneak in there too. It is a farm after all.

There was much laughter and love and sharing and finally after four hours of baking and boiling - an immense 10 kilograms of boiled and baked, rich dark beauties.

Somewhere in the mixing, the antique tins worked their magic and we had our own Magic Pudding moment. I don't know how it works but every year it does.

Magic puddings.

After all, that’s the magic of Christmas.

This year I'm keeping a few kilos of cake and pudding in the cupboard to remind me to keep the spirit of Christmas in my heart all year.

Merry Christmas to your and yours. Wherever you are this Christmas may you be blessed with the spirit of Christmas in your heart all year.