So I made my second Christmas Pudding this year and this time I got up the gumption (e.g. remained sober enough) to ignite it with flaming brandy like you are supposed to. You boil it for 10 hours and then you SET IT ON FIRE. What's not to love? A lot, apparently, since nobody ever wants to have anything to do with it besides me. So I will eat the entire thing myself and most likely give myself a coronary. But it sure does look cool when it is on fire. Otherwise, it tastes pretty much like a fruitcake.
& I didn't take that pic. from the internet, that is (or was) the real deal in our kitchen. Rachel was kind enough to trip the shutter while I was kind enough not to ignite my beard getting it to the table.
Likewise with the wassail, but cookies, on the other hand, are somewhat of an easier sell.
Those are Black & Whites because I may as well accept the fact I am a New Yorker. You'd be surprised how easy they are to make.
Now I am going to go polish off the wassail. Then I will spend the next 6 weeks on the stationary bike. After the fucking thing gets fixed.
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