Josephine Conroy’s Christmas Pudding Recipie

I found it!
Where? Why, tucked inside the Chinese cookbook, naturally:

Where else would it be?

Johnny said I could reprint the recipe, so I present it here verbatim with italic notes by moi. I’m not going to “sic” or make any smarmy comments on the spelling errors. I love them, they warm the cockles of my hardened heart. I leave them in here out of respect for the old girl, rest her soul, and my love for her seventh son. Who, I suspect, inherited his spelling gene from her.

Before you start, you’re going to need a really, REALLY big bowl. No, bigger. Bigger. Oh hell, you’re going to have to go out and buy one. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

No. Bigger.

Okay.

This mixture makes approximately 2 Large puddings + 1 half the size

Johnny would here like to remind you that there were 13 children in his family. If you make this recipe into two puddings, (+1 half the size), you won’t be able to eat them. Or lift them. We tend to make five or six of varying sizes.

Ingridients
1 lb Currants + 1 lb Rasins + 1lb Sultanas

The first year we made this, I had no idea what sultanas were. Turns out they’re white raisins. Which I’d also never heard at that point. They’re yummy, but I don’t know why you need to use the white kind here, since everything turns out all raisiny-brown anyway. But you don’t question. You do what Josie says. If you know what's good for you. Goddamnit.

+ 1 Small tub of Candy Peel

You know what this is, right? The multi-colored so-called “citrus rind”? But we don’t know how much a “small tub” is. The smallest tub we found looks puny when you line it up with all the other stuff, so we’ve settled on using a pint.

(OK instead of bying seperatley 3 lb of Mixed Fruit)

Oh sure, now she tells us.

1 or 2 Table Spoons of Treacle

Do you know what treacle is? It’s this:

Do you know where it comes from? Why, you draw it from a well, of course. If you don’t have any treacle-wells in your area, try blackstrap molasses. If you have to use regular molasses, well, I don’t think it will suck. One or two tablespoons, though? That’s silly. You try measuring treacle by the tablespoon. We just plop in a healthy plop.

1 lb of Brown Sugar
1 tea Spoon of Cinnamon + 1 tea Sp of Nutmeg + 1 tea Sp of Mixed Ground Spices

We have no idea what "Mixed Ground Spices" are. I know you’re itching for the comment button to suggest that she meant allspice, but Josie knew what “allspice” was – and she knew it didn’t mean “all of the spices.” We usually wing it, adding a dash each from all the bakey-type jars, and figure it adds up to a teaspoon of Mixed Ground.

1 lb of Plain Flour

I once gave myself a stroke trying to figure out how many cups were in a pound. Now? I guess. Three or four, I think. Or you could buy one of those itty-bitty bags.

1 lb Loaf Stale Grated

That would be bread. Pound, shmound: use what you got. If you don’t got, go get, and leave it on the counter overnight. Don’t worry, the candy peel will be there in the morning.

1 Grated Apple + 1 Grated Orange

Core: no. Seeds: no. Peel: yes

4 Eggs 1 Packet of Suet

Again, no idea how much “1 Packet” is. We usually go with about a pound, since that seems to be the going rate here. You have to dice it up pretty small first. Try to ignore the smell.

2 Glasses of Guinness 1 Large Glass of Whiskey.

That would be Imperial pints all around. We’ve accidentally switched the quantities and it didn’t suck.

Method Mix all Dry Ingridients first then Add All the rest

Here’s where you really have to roll your sleeves up and get into it. There is just no way to stir it with a spoon. Don’t be afraid of the raw egg or the beef fat. You’ll wash when you’re finished, and the smell does come out. Eventually.

Steam for 5 to 6 Hours P.T.O.

We have absolutely no idea what P.T.O. stands for (anybody?), but here’s what we do: line a bowl with waxed paper, pack it full of pudding – I said PACK it! – then put another piece of waxed paper on top. Repeat until you’ve used up all your bowls. Then go get more, and repeat until you’ve used up all your pudding. Now go get yourself a bigger pot. In fact, while you’re out, get two. Put something in the bottom of them to keep your bowls off of the heat, then stack them in there any way you can. Now add as much water as possible without it going over the lip of your bottom bowl, and simmer the whole shebang for a half a dozen hours. You’ll have to keep adding water as you go along, but be careful not to get it in your pudding!

Allow at least 6 weeks for the Pudding to Mature 8 for best Result.

Just leave them in the waxed paper you cooked them in and put them in the cupboard. After the first few weeks or so, it’s time to start feeding the thirsty little buggers. You’ll have to figure out how to set this up yourself, but the point is to keep flipping them and pouring brandy over them every day (Josie always used the Christian Brothers) until finally one day you’ll discover that they haven’t drunk up what you gave them yesterday. Then they’re full. Wrap ‘em back up and let ‘em sit for another couple weeks.

Then, when it’s Christmas Day at last, heat them up, give them one more douse with brandy, and burn those motherf'ers down!

Ooh, I almost forgot about the hard sauce. How could I forget about the hard sauce? More brandy + sugar + butter. Mix it all up and pour it over your hot flaming pudd.

You can also buy it, but that's nowhere near as fun:

You didn't think I meant the pudding, did you? Shame. The pudding you absolutely have to make yourself, even if it means putting the leftovers in sucker bags and keeping them in the attic for a year.

And, for extra-festive goodness, you can garnish with a plastic dinosaur:

Congratulations, Sparkle, for identifying this cow pattie-looking thing! Enjoy! And god bless us, every one.

Especially Josie.