Festive Fusion Pudding, Brexit proof

As much as the country has been annoying me recently (Brexit, anyone?) I have to admit no-one does Christmas like the Brits. My English great-grandmother and international upbringing are likely to blame, but ever since my childhood, nothing shouts Christmas to me like silly hats and bad jokes from Christmas crackers, and a good slice of Christmas pudding doused in brandy butter.

Living all over the globe, catering to guests from all walks of life, and having to stick to a diet for medical reasons, I have created my own ‘recipes’ for many classic dishes that can be adapted not only on the preferences of you and your guests, but also on what is available locally where you live. With the current Marmite crisis caused by Brexit, you never know what is going to happen, so it makes sense to stock up on mincemeat and crackers before it's too late!

If you break down any recipe to basic food chemistry (I knew that MSc degree would have some use eventually), it is easy to see what can and cannot be substituted. The rest, particularly the flavourings, are simply a matter of taste. Something we Dutch know cannot be argued about. I love to use Dutch speculaaskruiden to stir things up a little. 

Weren't they cute then?

Traditionally this pudding is made on stir-up Sunday, the last Sunday before advent, but my Dutch brain can’t do Christmas before St Nicolas has left for Spain, so just after the 5th works well for me. For luck, the whole family is supposed to take turns stirring!

Festive Pudding for all

900 g mixed dry fruit, chopped fine
100 ml liquor (brandy, or for non-alcoholics use fruit juice)
3 ts mixed dry spices (nutmeg, cardamom, cinnamon, allspice, ginger)
1 ts baking powder
pinch of salt
100 g chopped nuts (almond, macademia, walnut)
175 g dark sugar (palm sugar, or any other)
sugared lemon/orange peel
175 fat (suet, coconut, butter)
100 g flour (can be wheat or glutenfree)
225 g breadcumbs (can be glutenfree)
4 eggs
300 ml liquid (apple cider, fruit juice, sweet wine, port, sherry, dark beer)

The heart of the pudding are the dried fruits. Ironically for a pudding often called ‘plum pudding’ plums, or their dried version prunes, are not necessarily included, but they do work well. Raisins, currants and sultanas are your obvious choice, but I love dates, apricots, cranberries, apple, and dried mangos as well. There are really no limits. I’ve done a tropical version once with pineapple. Whatever you choose, dose them in brandy or your liquid of choice and soak overnight.

(I’m suddenly thinking up a gin & tonic themed pudding, well, there’s always next year… this year I opted for Middle Eastern with dried limes, apricots, mango and lots of cardamom)

For the fat, make sure to use one that is fairly solid, so olive oil is out. Even in the UK the traditional suet is getting harder to get (particularly if like me you boycott the nasty supermarket ‘vegetarian’ version of chemically hardened palm oil covered in wheat flour) If you want to be proper, do ask your butcher for suet, but by all means butter or coconut fat work perfectly fine too .

When the fruit is ready, add all the dry ingredients together in another bowl, then add the fat, eggs and last your liquid of choice. When mixed well toss the dried fruit in as well, let everyone have a stir and your mixture is ready to steam. All you need now is patience.

My first puddings I steamed in a earthenware bowl with some parchment, but water leaked in and they became soggy, so I invested in some plastic pudding bowls with lids. Place them in a pan with water, that does not reach the top of your bowl, as no water should get in. Add a lid and steam them for hours, at least five; the longer, the darker and richer the pudding will get. Then let it cool and rest in a cool dark place until Christmas. If you like your pudding proper boozy you can ‘feed’ it with a few spoons of brandy once in a while.

At Christmas dinner steam it again for half an hour to heat it up, or cheat by popping it in a microwave. Don’t forget to add brandy butter, which is butter mixed with generous slosh of brandy and some powdered sugar (mix 100g of room temperature butter with 100g icing sugar and 4 spoons of brandy, then stiffen in fridge). For a real show stopper heat up some brandy in a metal spoon, let it catch fire and serve your pudding flaming!

Home for the holidays

In multi-cultural Singapore we have a never-ending sequence of free days and colourful celebrations that we all join in happily. The Deepavali henna had barely faded from the palms of my hands when Sinterklaas arrived at Marina Bay in his bumboat. As soon as the Sint leaves it will be time for Christmas and then the year will be over, but not the Singapore holidays as the main event has yet to come: Chinese New Year.

Usually, I am not the kind of expat that is prone to homesickness, not even over the holidays, but this year I find myself excitedly looking forward to a traditional Dutch Christmas at home. In Northern Europe this is a depressing time of the year. You take off for work in the dark and come back in it too - if you have an office job you won’t see daylight at all. Not that you miss much, a Christmas of falling snowflakes is more fairy tale than reality, days in December are likely to be drab, grey and wet. We need a party to get us through that, and Christmas marks the shortest day of the year, the darkest.

Our Singapore rainy season is well timed - huddling inside whilst a tropical storm rages, with gusts of winds sweeping through the trees, rain hammering on the windows; it is just as it should be this time of the year. Other things, less so. The light-up at Orchard Road is a depressing one this year; with not a Christmas decoration in sight Orchard Road makes clear once and for all what Christmas is all about for some: Disney. And commerce. It makes me glad to be Dutch, and makes me stick even firmer to our traditions: no presents at Christmas.

I never once received a Christmas present as a child. Christmas to us is about being together with family, special food, candlelight, singing carols. Even without presents, Christmas was magical. The smell of fresh pine (not the chemically sprayed American ones they have here – that keep smelling long after the needles drop off, but the real deal, from the forest) mixed with Christmas spice, open fires, stollen with almond spijs.

Fear not, there is no need to pity me - or my children. Because we have Sinterklaas. On the eve of his birthday, on December 5th the good old holy man, Saint Nicholas with his trusty junglepieten will drop off bags full of presents. Pakjesavond is the event of the year for Dutch children. Pepernoten (spicy tiny biscuits) are thrown around, and there is no end to unique candy associated with this day: marzipan, chocolate letters, taai taai, schuimpjes and borstplaat. For the adults: bishop-wine.

My favourite part? Sinterklaas is a holiday to get creative. This is the day to get back to your annoying little brother or teasing your classmate in a snappy poem and crafty joke as surprises are exchanged. Or house is already full of glue, cardboard, paint, papier-mâché and kids yelling ‘don’t come in, don’t look!’

And when the giving is over, later this December, my whole family, ooms, tantes, opa and oma will come together in our home for a real Dutch-Singaporean Christmas. With Christmas Day brunch and Indonesian rijsttafel and not a gift in sight. Because nothing you can wrap up can ever beat being together!

Our Tropical Christmas Tree

The monkeys by the tree

When I walked into the garden centre the smell of pine hit me in the face, hard. The scent evoked strong memories. Memories of toilet cleaner, pine fresh. ‘Enjoy a merrier Christmas with the sweet scent of Fresh Christmas Trees this season!’ banners announced.

When we first bought one of these US imported trees in Singapore I was positively amazed by the strong scent. It invaded every corner of the house, and after a few hours I was less impressed. The tree started to give me a headache. The Norway spruces I was used to in Europe smell much more subtly. Only if you bury your face between its branches the lovely smell will envelope you. Walking past, brushing the twigs ever so slightly, will let bells in the tree ring, and send a small whiff of pine scent into the air.

After a week or so in our house, with no air conditioning, the Singapore heat had turned most of the needles or our US Noble Fir brown. The scent, however, permeated from the barren stalks as strong and fresh as ever. It was then that I realised the truth about the ‘sweet scent of fresh Christmas tree’ the garden centre promised. A spruce in the tropics, who was I fooling?

So this year, when the pine fresh toilet cleaner hit me, I decided on a different approach. I wandered along several garden centres until I found something that would fulfil my purpose: a small Monkey Puzzle tree. In a pot. At a fraction of the cost of the US Noble Fir.

When I took it home, Linde was immediately excited. A tropical Christmas tree! Tijm, less so. It is not a real Christmas tree, he moaned. It took some explaining, telling stories about the spirit of Christmas, about the cluster of branches of the casaurina tree that I had as a Christmas tree growing up in Borneo, that with their long, droopy needles looked even less like the real thing, to persuade Tijm of how cool our Monkey Puzzle was. But after we decorated it, we all agreed it was just perfect for our jungle house patio. 

Just a short distance from our tropical Christmas tree, across from the gate into our garden, stands a full-size Monkey Puzzle tree, fifty feet high. Our furry neighbours, the macaques, love playing in it. How will they react to the baby one filled with colourful decorations and sparkling lights? I’ll tell you once I find out.

Only, our Monkey Puzzle has one little problem: it does not smell. Maybe I should buy some air freshener? Pine fresh…

Merry Christmas to everyone!