The British take puddings seriously. Truth is, no one makes or names pudding quite like the people of the United Kingdom. Plum pudding contains not a single plum. Figgy pudding has a fig-less batter. Spotted dick is, as far as I’m aware, entirely penis-free.

In many a British household, plum pudding is the grand finale of a delicious Christmas feast. Yet, throughout the latter half of the 20th century, the plum pudding has been eclipsed by the easier-to-bake, albeit highly controversial, fruitcake. This is particularly true in North America, where plum pudding has become something of a forgotten Christmas relic.

As a child, plum pudding was an important part of my dad’s family Christmas. His parents, both hailing from England, continued serving the pudding until they passed away — their deaths, I should note, were unrelated to plum pudding. I think.

Nothing on Christmas Day excited me more than seeing my grandpa strike a match and ignite the hot brandy over the pudding. I have to admit that this was likely in no small part due to my childhood obsession with fire. The sad part was that we kids were only allowed the tiniest piece due to the high alcohol content of the pudding and the brandy butter it was topped with.

Fruitcake is like having McDonald’s, while plum pudding is a Julia Child specialty.

I’m not going to allow any argument over this matter; plum pudding is far superior to its fruitcake cousin. While it contains many of the same ingredients, it has a much richer and layered flavor. It is both sweet and savory, spiced yet not overpowering, and fruity but also decadent. While fruitcake can be heavy enough to hammer nails into a cement floor, plum pudding is light — almost fluffy. This is because the pudding is steamed for hours, which, aided by fresh breadcrumbs in the batter, causes it to puff out. Here’s another way of putting it: Fruitcake is like having McDonald’s, while plum pudding is a Julia Child specialty.

Now, before I get more into the recipe, there is one matter we must get out of the way. Traditional plum pudding is made with shredded beef suet. Suet comes from the fat surrounding a cow’s kidneys, which, admittedly, does sound less than appetizing. This, I suspect, is one of the reasons this festival pudding has fallen out of favor with North Americans.

There is a middle ground, however, as some use butter to replace suet as a source of fat for the pudding. While I will include both a butter and suet version, the suet version is far superior, and actually easier to make.

A few years ago, I made the butter version for my family because my sister adamantly refused to eat anything with cow fat in it — such a diva. It was tasty and everyone seemed to enjoy it, but my dad said it just wasn’t as good as his mother’s. So, the following Christmas, I made the traditional suet version, but being a good brother, I lied and said I used butter. Upon her first bite, my sister moaned so loud and threw her head back with such pleasure that her boyfriend was jealous — coincidentally, she broke up with him shortly after this…just saying.

There’s no two ways about it — the suet version is miles ahead of its buttered knockoff. There is no beefy taste to the pudding; rather, the suet seems to add a layer of richness that you just can’t replicate with butter. Now, I wouldn’t recommend you go around spreading cow kidney fat on your morning toast, but it’s darn good in this pudding.

In North America, most butchers sell suet cheaply. I bought a pound from my butcher last week and it cost me $1.95 Canadian, which is, what, 3 American cents? Just make sure to let them know it’s for pudding so they sell you the frozen and shredded kind. In larger cities, suet can also be found in the frozen section of many grocery stores. It is usually where they keep frozen turkey or lamb. Frozen suet usually looks like a fine powder or shredded lard. It is not slimy, nor does it have any smell.

Plum pudding is more complex to cook than fruitcake because it is traditionally steamed for 6 to 8 hours. While you can use this method if you have the time, I’m extremely impatient and I don’t want to spend an afternoon watching something boil slowly. Instead, I use an Instant Pot to pressure-cook the pudding in an hour. Also, while aging a plum pudding does increase its flavor, you really can make it two or three weeks before Christmas and it still tastes amazing.

Finally and most importantly, you must serve with brandy butter and flame the pudding before you eat it. Word of warning: Please have a responsible adult set the booze on fire. The first time I attempted it, I lost a quarter of my left eyebrow.

Christmas pudding has now become a staple of my holiday celebrations. My entire family and I prefer it over fruitcake. So, if you’re looking for something different or just want an excuse to vent your holiday frustrations by lighting something on fire, this is the perfect dessert for you!

Plum pudding

1/2 lb shredded suet — if using butter, 1/2 lb of softened unsalted butter

1 1/2 cups dried currants

2 cups dark raisins (Thompson or Sultanas)

2 cups golden raisins

3/4 cup dried cherries

3/4 cup dried apricots

1 cup blanched slivered almonds

1 tart apple, peeled, quartered, cored, and finely chopped

1 small carrot, peeled and grated using a cheese grater

The zest of 1 medium-sized orange

The zest of 1 lemon

2 cups of all-purpose flour

6 eggs

4 cups fresh (soft) white breadcrumbs

1 cup packed dark brown sugar

1/2 tsp allspice

1 tsp ground nutmeg

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1 tsp kosher salt

1/3 cup of freshly squeezed orange juice

1/4 cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 cup of brandy

Brandy butter

4 tbsp unsalted butter, softened

1/2 cup confectioner’s (icing) sugar

3 tbsp of brandy

1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract (optional)

Instructions