Puddings

When I was a restaurant critic, I was once teased for talking about ‘the pudding’ and then proceeding to describe some elaborate, light and most definitely unpuddingy French confection. But pudding is the word I stick to: can’t help it and don’t want to. Regardless of style or substance, if it’s intended for the last, sweet course, it’s pudding in my book. That’s not to say that several of the recipes elsewhere in this book couldn’t also be made and served up as pudding; indeed, given that we no longer eat tea to any convincing degree, the chances are most of them will end up that way. (That’s if you don’t count the stand-up breakfast comprising wolfed-down leftovers stashed overnight in the fridge.)