Reader, I ate it anyway

You may have noticed that my last post included no reference to Martha, as I was confident that she would not want to be associated with such silliness. I will go ahead and tell you now that no one would want to be associated with the following. I am considering taking on a pseudonym, myself.

We had a pretty good thing going with the all-ball Christmas dinner, but I thought I would try to round it out (NOT SORRY) with a traditional holiday pudding. I have been very inattentive to my Book Lover's Cookbook of late, and the recipe associated with "A Christmas Carol" is a carrot pudding in the Dickensian style, which in theory should end up being more or less circular at the end of the day.

I have come here today to disprove this theory.

My re-read of A Christmas Carol was not as surprising as some other revisits of classics have been, since I see or hear at least some version of it annually. I tend to favor the audio reading of Sir Patrick Stewart, particularly the two moments when he is called upon to pretend to be a small child singing.

It's the small things that bring the greatest joy.

I will say that the actual text is very rewarding, particularly since amusing asides tend to be cut in favor of straight plot in popular renditions of the story. My favorite rediscovery this year was Nephew Fred's insistence that Christmas is wonderful because it's a time for everyone to "think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave." NEPHEW FRED IS THE CHEERFUL CHARACTER IN THIS STORY. I love the Victorians so, so much.

Looking great so far!

The passage excerpted in the cookbook is of course about the pudding at the Cratchit house, featuring the high anxiety of Mrs. Cratchit as she unveils the long-gestating treat. I have to admit, I was not particularly nervous about this dish until an unnamed party suggested that in order to make it more ball-shaped, we could cook it in a cheesecloth wrapping, rather than in a bowl or mold as suggested by the recipe.

This method does have the added bonus of evoking the head of Marley's ghost. 

Fun fact: puddings traditionally cook and dry out for an exceedingly long time. The two-to-three hour span that the recipe suggests is short by at least several weeks.

Possibly months.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Cratchit.

We couldn't save it.

Know in your heart that even though it looks like a bag of vomit, it smells like Christmas.

Sloppy, sloppy Christmas.

Speaking of abject failure, let's skim over Martha's recent calendar activities, here we go, Christmas brunch, sure, horseback riding, obviously, hey look, today is Frédéric Fekkai's birthday!

Happy birthday, Martha's friend Frédéric Fekkai! I will try this out today if I decide to shower.

Anyway, we've got some winter break to embrace over here. Time to ride.