If We Can Stream Netflix, We Can Steam a Pudding

The Enduring Legacy of Puddings in British Cuisine

Samuel Johnson, known for his sharp wit and keen observations, once found himself in a skittish mood during his tour of the Hebrides. In a moment of satirical reflection, he penned a humorous meditation on a pudding, mimicking the style of popular religious homilies: “Let us seriously reflect what a pudding is composed of.” His musings were playful yet insightful, highlighting the elemental ingredients that make up a pudding—flour, which once drank the dews of the morning; milk, pressed from the udder by the gentle hand of a milkmaid; and an egg, described as a miracle of nature.

While Johnson’s take was lighthearted, puddings have long been a cornerstone of Britain’s culinary heritage. Even the French, who are often quick to critique British cuisine, have shown a fondness for these desserts. In the 1690s, François Maximilien Misson, a visitor to England, praised English puddings with admiration, exclaiming, “Ah, what an excellent thing is an English pudding!”

Fast forward to modern times, where the legacy of traditional puddings is under threat. A recent YouGov poll commissioned by English Heritage reveals a concerning trend: many households in England, Scotland, and Wales are making homemade puddings less frequently than ever before. Two-thirds of respondents reported making a pudding once a month or less, while the remaining third never make one at all. This decline raises questions about the future of these beloved desserts.

To encourage a revival, English Heritage has introduced some unique ice-cream flavors inspired by traditional puddings, such as sticky toffee and apple crumble and custard. However, this move has sparked debate, as it seems to echo the trend of combining random and unconventional flavors, much like the pizza toppings of today. One might argue that a summer pudding ice cream could have been more appealing than these new offerings.

Jane Grigson, in her book English Food, noted that puddings were among the first victims of mass catering and manufacturing. Making them requires time, a commodity that many people now lack. For instance, Simon Hopkinson’s steamed ginger sponge pudding needs to be cooked for two hours—about the same time it takes to watch My Oxford Year, a preposterous rom-com currently streaming on Netflix.

The effort-to-enjoyment ratio also plays a role in the declining popularity of puddings. While some traditional recipes, like Hopkinson’s ginger sponge, are delectable, others are reminiscent of a more active era. In Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey-Maturin novels, dishes such as spotted dog, figgy dowdy, and drowned baby were enjoyed by Captain Jack Aubrey and his crew. However, Lobscouse and Spotted Dog, a recipe book based on the food in the novels, suggests that these hearty puddings may not be suitable for those unaccustomed to physical exertion.

Historically, many puddings were designed to provide maximum calories at minimal cost, a purpose that has largely been replaced by the convenience of fast food. Additionally, the generation that once cherished a steamed pudding with custard as a nostalgic comfort is dwindling, much like Proust’s madeleine.

Despite these challenges, there is still hope for the revival of traditional puddings. English Heritage’s upcoming English Heritage Baking Book offers a chance to rediscover these culinary treasures. For those with a yearning for a suet-based treat topped with custard and paired with a two-hour film, these recipes provide a comforting connection to the past.

As we navigate a world increasingly dominated by convenience and speed, the enduring appeal of puddings reminds us of the value of tradition, patience, and the simple joy of a well-made dessert.