PUDDINGS PIES:IT WAS CHRISTMAS pudding which came close to causing my grandmother to expire from embarassment. She died when I was four - not as a direct result of the pudding episode - and by all accounts she was a bit of a harpie. She had a will of iron, which she shared with her distant relation Admiral Beatty who took no nonsense at the Battle of Jutland and whom she rather alarmingly resembled. She was a bit of a puritan to say the least, writes Tom Doorley.
One day she volunteered to do some shopping for my mother who was about to cook the Christmas puddings. And she was charged with the task of getting the annual pint bottle of Guinness.
Unfortunately, when she entered the Cat Cage just after opening time, the curate misunderstood her request and poured a frothing glass of Uncle Arthur for her. I don't think she ever recovered from the shame.
Guinness and Powers were essential elements in my mother's pudding. And because my family, in those days, ranged from the teetotal to the abstemious, it was a very boozy affair. So much alcohol did it contain that it was capable of ageing for decades, like a vintage port.
My children don't like dried fruit of any sort, so Christmas pudding is off the homemade menu. And much as Johann and I like it, it seems like a lot of effort to make one just for the two of us. So, we're happy to buy in.
A stalwart amongst Christmas puddings is the one made by Peter and Mary Ward at Country Choice in Nenagh. This wonderful shop is crammed with jewel-like candied peel and the best imaginable raisins and moscatels and sultanas at this time of the year. All of these ingredients feature in their pudding, which is a fine, densely textured one with a rich, spicy, buttery character. It costs €27 and weighs in around 800g.
Prue Rudd's puddings are legendary. A small one goes a long way because they seem to be pure, unadulterated fruit, with a good dollop of spice. Sold under the Prue Simon label, they are positively chewy. Where most traditional Christmas puddings rely heavily on fat (often suet or a mixture of suet and butter) and breadcrumbs to cohere, this version crumbles nicely and is worth making a proper custard for. A 900g pudding costs €20, 450g is €10.
Arun Kapil runs one of the world's most discriminating spice businesses in Midleton, Co Cork. His Green Saffron Christmas Pudding contains the spice mix that his company supplies to the Ritz Hotel in London, so you can be sure that this is something special. There is also local Beamish stout and Jameson whiskey and a small amount of amazingly aromatic and fruity black pepper (which makes it warm, not hot), all combined in the form of a traditional Christmas pudding. The organic vanilla pods deliver a creamy, mouthfilling richness.
Green Saffron's spices are truly exceptional (even Gordon Ramsay has raved about them) and they deliver a freshness of flavour in this pudding that is most unusual. Can you imagine a lively Christmas pudding? Well, there you have it. This is my top pudding of 2008 and it is available from Donnybrook Fair, Liston's and various farmers' markets, including the one on Saturdays in Midleton. A 1kg pudding is €23.50, 375g is €12.
Supermarket puddings vary wildly in quality and it's not enough simply to say that you get what you pay for; some relatively expensive ones taste and feel like shortcuts have been taken.
The best of them, for me, is Tesco Finest Matured Christmas Pudding which, odd as it may seem, tastes very close to the ones that I enjoyed in my childhood and which nearly destroyed my grandmother's reputation. It is by far the darkest pudding tasted and also, I reckon, the most alcoholic. I have not yet tried but I suspect you could set fire to it without first pouring the brandy over it. This pudding has an old-fashioned taste, very concentrated, very dense and, for me, very nostalgic. A 454g pudding costs €6.49; 907g costs €12.99.
Mincemeat varies even more than puddings, as far as I can gather. Some of them look so unattractive that I decided not to taste them. But a few have sterling qualities.
We make our own mincemeat, so it was interesting to try the commercial sorts. The closest to our own, but rather richer and thicker, came from Country Choice. It looks very wholesome and very real, which is what it is. A generous tub, just over 500g, costs €13.
By and large, the others seem to be terribly sweet. Both Tesco Finest Mincemeat (€3.45/411g) and Marks Spencer Luxury Mincemeat (€2.99/411g) are very pleasant, with good texture and just the right amount of spice. But, for my palate, they are too sweet. They can, however, be redeemed by the addition of plenty of lemon juice.
Finally, cranberry sauce. Oh for heaven's sake, just make some! But if you just can't manage it, I can report that Tesco Finest was nice. The sweetness of Ballymaloe Cranberry Sauce is cut by a good, sharp acidity.
The star performer? Far and away, Green Saffron's pungent, vibrant Christmas pudding. Which is a phrase that is quite new to me.