Rich Guy Plum Pudding

Look, it's a one pudding open sleigh!

This morning's offering comes from Favorite Old Recipes. The book was produced by speculator rich boy Joseph Leiter, and subtitled "Being a Comprehensive and Diverse Collection of Favorite Recipes Diligently Gathered from Many Sources".

Publication of the title was such big news that the Milwaukee sentinel from April 15, 1928 offered an article on the subject:

The article states:

"Time and expense do not enter into the mind when giving directions for the proper way of preparing a dish. Ingredients are marshaled from every country and every season, and liberal use is made of wines and brandies. But the wealthy author, who maintains a famous wine cellar, explains that in place of the rare vintages called for in the recipes, the non-alcoholic wines and cordials sold at the grocery stores may be sued with satisfactory results.

Mr. Leiter is the son of the late Levi Z. Leiter, early partner of Marshall Field, the Chicago merchant prince, who left an estate of $30,000,000, of which Joseph is trustee. One of his sisters married Marquis Curzon, formerly Viceroy of India, and another is the Countess of Suffolk."

Here's a better picture of old Joe:

Only 1,000 copies of the book were printed, and I'm a lucky girl to get one!

You'll be seeing more of this title in days to come. Today you get a look at the second of two plum pudding recipes Mr. Leiter cooked on his yacht or one of several homes around the country. You can tell it is an oldie by the way the ingredients are handled: small glasses of this, "some milk", etc.

Now run off to the store to get some beef marrow, and cook like a tycoon!

Plum Pudding--No. 2

Have two pounds of beef marrow or suet, chop it well and put it into a large pot; seed a pound and a half of package raisins, wash and clean half a pound of Corinthian raisins, and mix these raisins with the suet; add to this three pounds of bread crumbs, a good glass of Malaga wine, two small glasses of Cognac brandy, the rind of half a lemon, chopped fine, a handful of preserved lemon cut in pieces, a good handful of flour, some salt and eight whole eggs; moisten the lot with some milk; mix it with the hands, so that it will be thoroughly mixed; form a liquid paste. Tie this mixture in a sack and put this sack into a pot of previously boiling water. Let it cook six or seven hours, making sure that the sack is always covered with water and that the water is boiling. While it is cooking, make the following sauce:

Put a quarter of a pound of butter into a casserole, a pinch of flour, a pinch of lemon rind, and candied lemon chopped fine, a pinch of salt and a spoonful of sugar; moisten the lot with some Malaga wine, let cook as you would any ordinary sauce. At time of serving strain your plum pudding for a few minutes, take it from the sack, set on a plate and glaze it with this sauce. Serve.

Potency Pudding: the Sea Moss Advantage

I know that I've been advocating for homemade puddings, but I think I might have to draw the line at this one:

I like the part about removing discolored pieces. No one wants wrongfully colored moss bits in their parfait dish.

Sea moss must have a gelatinous quality, given that their are no eggs, corn starch, or other thickeners in the pudding.

Here's a delicious looking picture. It does look pretty gelatinous to me.

I wanted to know more about sea moss desserts, and so I Googled it. (Viva la Google!)

This provider's page includes a puzzling comment. It says that when rinsing the moss you shouldn't leave it in water too long or it will lose nutrients. Think about it. The stuff GROWS in water. How could rinsing it remove nutrients?

Another online article says "Most Caribbean men are not afraid to admit that sea moss is one of their secrets to sexual potency and virility."

Apparently there's more to this recipe than meets the eye...

Where have all the puddings gone? (Auntie's Date-Apple Pudding)

Something happened in the dessert world during the 1970s.

Something earth shattering. Pole shifting. Cataclysmic.

And yet something so subtle we didn't even notice it happening.

For some reason, we stopped making pudding. (If I was a betting woman, I'd wager that Bill Cosby had something to do with it.)

Pudding as an ubiquitous dessert option virtually ceased to exist in any form other than what comes from a box. Eventually you didn't even need a stove.

I've tried to fight the trend in small ways. I made tapioca pudding from scratch the other day, recognizing that it was a small splash of rebellion against a tidal wave of change. And I may grow even more daring, and try a recipe like the one below, despite having no knowledge whatsoever of who "Auntie" might be.

What's the worst that could happen? JELL-O brand takes a contract out on me?

Auntie's Date-Apple Pudding

A butterschotchy pudding rich in apples, dates, and nuts.

1 cup brown sugar (packed)

1/4 cup cornstarch

2 1/4 cups water

1 cup chopped dates

1 cup chopped apples

2 tbsp. butter

1/4 tsp. vanilla

1 cup broken walnuts

Mix brown sugar and cornstarch in 2-qt. saucepan. Gradually stir in water. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture boils; boil 1 min. Add dates, apples, butter, and vanilla. Remove from heat. Cool to room temperature, add nuts, then chill. Serve in sherbet glasses. Top with whipped cream, if desired. 6 to 8 servings.