Christmas is almost upon us. One has to try pretty hard to muster christmas in the tropics. Growing up in Scotland I was intensely aware of the dark and the cold and the weight of the year. The solstice and the lights of the christmas tree, the burning fires and candelight, the feeling of anticipation for something more than gifts, the deepness and stillness that comes with snow, the strength of the quietness of those nights. . .
All the things that bring on a mood of reverence and awareness of what is beyond the small things of life have to be sought for anew here where the weather is as always, the light is it's typical 12ish hours and there's no snow for miles and miles and miles.
I'm getting there. I've found an online radio channel that plays what I want to hear for this time (Accu radio). I've made my first batch of mincemeat pies, and today will work on the second. I've made an advent nature table with the 4 kingdoms represented (figuring that the 5th, fungus, is present in all). I'm playing carols on my flute, and yesterday we decorated the tree.
Our christmas tree is a living one, a Norfolk Pine. Norfolk Pines don't grow here, but the farmer has a way with plants and has coaxed this one through several christmases now. It's not your typical christmas tree, the lower branches have been dropped and the bare trunk is decorated with lights and a couple of growing vines. It looks somewhat like a palm with its long slender (very slender) branches radiating out, each set making a 5 pointed star. The set it put out this past year make the tree about 7 foot tall, but luckily the branches sweep down and out, each is lightly festooned with old and handmade decorations.
I'm making several gifts, of wood, glass and wool, trusting that they'll all come together in time. The dogs biscuits will get done today and I've got an order in for pigs' ears with Noity, hopefully they'll have that treat too on the 25th.
We have a big party for friends and neighbours on the 25th and the invitations went out this weekend, we'll have rondon (recipe soon, a traditional dish of coconut fish stew), salads from the garden, christmas pudding and mincemeat pies, plus whatever else is brought to share.
It's all good. I'm slowing sinking into that peaceful center of joy and connection with the greater. All good.
Welcome to our farm! We are a permaculture farm growing exotic fruits and spices on the southern Caribbean coast of Costa Rica. Part of our farm is a Botanical Garden, enjoy!
Showing posts with label christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label christmas. Show all posts
Monday, 14 December 2009
Thursday, 22 October 2009
christmas pudding
Today I made the christmas pudding. It's always a fun thing to do, partly because the list of ingredients is long but simple, partly because it's so much a part of tradition, partly because the end result is so, so good. I'm not sure of the tradition of Christmas Puddings, and anyway there are plenty of sites explaining it, even a site or two dedicated to this institution, but I do enjoy them. As a child we would have at least two puddings each Christmas - one made by my gran, the other, a more traditional Scottish pudding, made by my great aunt. The Clootie dumpling was, alas, always shunned by my sisters and myself. It was perfectly round and had to be cut to stand on the plate, but the skin was spongy and gooey-slimy at the same time, and it gave me the dry heave - literally. Too bad, because inside it was like the other pudding - delicious. But we weren't allowed to just pick at the inside, no we had to take the skin too. Now as an adult, I would like to try it again, just to see if it really is as dreadful as I remember. I somehow doubt it.
I have made christmas puddings on and off for the last few years, this year I even made one for my birthday cake in August. They are so delicious because they are basically a combination of fruit, spices and alcohol held together by a tiny bit of flour, some breadcrumbs and good will. Once made they sit for a minimum of 2 months gathering flavour and texture, aided by the regular addition of more alcohol. They are twice cooked: steamed for 6 hours initially, then a further 2 hours on the day of serving.
Very very rich, and most often served with brandy butter or whipped cream: a perfect companion to an already dangerously heavy Christmas dinner. But that is what Boxing Day is for - recovery time for all the over-indulgences. It was traditional in my house, and many others in Scotland, to slice left over pudding and fry it for breakfast, served with a fried egg on top. Never mention cholesterol.
Christmas Pudding
4 oz suet (or vegetable shortening)
2 oz wholewheat flour
4 oz brown breadcrumbs, fresh
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/2 teaspoon clove
1 whole nutmeg freshly grated
2 oz chopped crystallized ginger
8 oz brown sugar
24 oz mixed dry fruit - I used 10 oz prunes, 10 oz raisins, 4 oz mango, but as long as you use plenty of raisins you can add whatever you like - figs would be great, dates too, I used bananas in my birthday version.
1 grated apple
zest of one lemon or lime, or orange
2 eggs
5 fl oz dark beer
2 tablespoons port or other rich alcohol. I use whiskey or rum.
Mix all ingredients except eggs and alcohol. Blend eggs and alcohol and add to mix. Mix should be sloppy, not sticky. Leave overnight then steam, tightly covered in pudding bowl for 6 hours. Wrap in wax paper then cloth (traditionally, but here in the tropics I put it in the fridge), and leave in cool place for at least two months. Every 3 weeks make holes on top of pudding and add 1/4 cup of whiskey, brandy or rum.
To serve, steam for further 2 hours, remove gently from bowl, douse in alcohol and set alight. Serve with brandy butter, heavy cream or ice-cream.
Oh and another tradition - wrap a penny in foil or wax paper and add to the mix. Whoever finds the penny in their serving has a prize. For my birthday pudding, the prize was a massage, this time it might be dinner at Loco Natural, my favourite restaurant in town.
One of the great things about the pudding is the anticipation and the ritual. When I made this with the kids in my classes we always read Truman Capote's 'A Christmas Memory' the day before we began. It's a wonderful story about Truman making Christmas fruit cakes with his ancient cousin, so touching and so beautifully written. I didn't read it this time, but I know the story so well now, "It's fruitcake weather! Fetch our buggy. Help me find my hat.". Superb.
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