Plum Pudding Quotes

Ranger declined the butterscotch pudding, not wanting to disrupt the consistency of his blood sugar level. I had two puddings and coffee, choosing to keep my pancreas at peak performance. Use it or lose it is my philosophy.

Alexia found herself surrounded and embraced by a room of such unmitigated welcome and personality that it was akin to being yelled at by plum pudding.

Are the angels of her bed the angels who come near me alone in mine? Are the green trees in her window the color is see in ripe plums? If she always sees backward and upside down without knowing it what chance do we have? I am haunted by the feeling that she is saying melting lords of death, avalanches, rivers and moments of passing through, And I am replying, "Yes, yes. Shoes and pudding.

Ah, I know," Bridget said. "For sure, you have the sixth sense." Mrs. Glover, wrestling with the plum pudding, snorted her disapproval. She was of the opinion that five senses were too many, let alone adding on another.

No, no, no!” said Albert. “You got to put a bit of life in it, sir, no offense intended. It’s got to be a big fat laugh. You got to…you got to sound like you’re pissing brandy and crapping plum pudding, sir, excuse my Klatchian.

Snow... blots and softens the top of every object like ice on a plum pudding. Hedges, telegraph wires, cars, postboxes, recycling bins. The world is losing its edges. Look upwards and it seems as if the stars themselves are being poured from the sky and turn out not to be vast and fiery globes after all but tiny, frozen things which melt in the palm of your hand.

DON'T EAT NONE OF THE PLUM PUDDING. ONE WHO WISHES YOU WELL.

Thorpe referred to Ted Heath as ‘The plum pudding around which no one has succeeded in lighting the brandy’.

Poor human weakness! With your words, your languages, your sounds, you speak and stammer—you define God, the heaven and the earth, chemistry and philosophy, and you cannot express, with your language, all the joy that you derive from a naked woman—or a plum pudding.

From black-rimmed plates they ate turtle soup and eaten Russian rye bread, ripe Turkish olives, caviar, salted mullet-roe, smoked Frankfurt black puddings, game in gravies the colour of liquorice and boot-blacking truffled sauces, chocolate caramel creams, plum puddings, nectarines, preserved fruits, mulberries and heart-cherries; from dark coloured glasses they drank the wines of Limagne and Rousillon, of Tenedoes, Val de Peñas and Oporto, and, after the coffee and the walnut cordial they enjoyed kvass, porters and stouts.

But in the end, she could not resist. She ate the stew, every hot and savory bite of it, then flaky rolls, plums in syrup, egg pudding, and a rum cake thick with raisins and brown sugar.

Roast beef and plum pudding are also held in superstitious veneration, and port and sherry maintain their grounds as the only true English wines; all others being considered vile, outlandish beverages.

My Great-aunt Squintina (grand-mother of Cousin Tabitha Twitchit) -- died of a thimble in a Christmas plum pudding. I never put any article of metal in MY puddings or pies. (Explained by the very elegantly attired Duchess, at a luncheon party.)

But affection is merely the plum in the pudding: the pudding itself is wealth.

Pack them into a small round mold, or form a ball and flatten it to resemble a hockey puck (or a baby Brie if you’re not from Minnesota and into winter sports.)

Look on the branch above your head,' said the Gnat, 'and there you'll find a snap-dragon-fly. Its body is made of plum-pudding, its wings of holly-leaves, and its head is a raisin burning in brandy.

Wherein, he resembled my Right Reverend friend, Bishop Berkeley - truly, one of your lords spiritual - who, metaphysically speaking, holding all objects to be mere optical delusions, was, notwithstanding, extremely matter-of-fact in all matters touching matter itself. Besides being pervious to the points of pins, and possessing a palate capable of appreciating plum-puddings: - which sentence reads off like a pattering of hailstones.

and so the wheel turns, for everything there is a season. I would not want to have the leaves fall in June, or the fruits ripen in March, to eat plum pudding on a blazing hot day or see the peas fat in their pods in the kitchen garden in snow. Naturally not, who would? The same people who want chrysanthemums all the year round and frozen raspberries on bonfire night, that’s who, and they have been gaining ground, trying to regularise and standardise, and alter the natural, productive cycle of the year to suit themselves, to force and freeze.

SHRIMP LOUIE SPREAD Hannah’s Note: This is best served well chilled with a basket of crackers on the side. 8 ounces softened cream cheese ½ cup mayonnaise ¼ cup chili sauce (I used Heinz) 1 Tablespoon horseradish (I used Silver Springs) 1/8 teaspoon pepper 6 green onions 2 cups finely chopped cooked salad shrimp*** (measure AFTER chopping) Salt to taste Mix the cream cheese with the mayonnaise. Add the chili sauce, horseradish, and pepper. Mix it up into a smooth sauce.   Clean the green onions and cut off the bottoms. Use all of the white part and up to an inch of the green part. Throw the tops away.   Mince the onions as finely as you can and add them to the sauce. Stir them in well.   Chop the salad shrimp into fine bits. You can do this with a sharp knife, or in the food processor using the steel blade and an on-and-off motion.   Mix in the shrimp and check to see how salty the spread is. Add salt if needed.   Chill the spread in a covered bowl in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours. You can make it in the morning if you plan to serve it that night.   Yield: Makes approximately 3 cups.

PORK AND BEANS BREAD Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position. 15-ounce can of pork and beans (I used Van Camp’s) 4 eggs, beaten (just whip them up in a glass with a fork) 1 cup vegetable oil (not canola, not olive—use vegetable oil) 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 cups white (granulated) sugar 1 teaspoon baking soda ½ teaspoon baking powder ½ teaspoon salt 1 and ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon 1 cup chopped pecans or walnuts (measure after chopping—I used pecans) 3 cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it) Prepare your pans. Spray two 9-inch by 5-inch by 3-inch-deep loaf pans with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray.   Don’t drain the pork and beans. Pour them into a food processor or a blender, juice and all, and process them until they’re pureed smooth with no lumps.   Place the beaten eggs in a large mixing bowl. Stir in the pureed pork and beans and mix them in well.   Add the vegetable oil and the vanilla extract. Mix well.   Add the sugar and mix it in. Then mix in the baking soda, baking powder, salt and cinnamon. Stir until everything is incorporated.   Stir in the chopped nuts.   Add the flour in one-cup increments, stirring after each addition.   Spoon half of the batter into one loaf pan and the other half of the batter into the second loaf pan.   Bake at 350 degrees F. for 50 to 60 minutes. Test the bread with a long food pick inserted in the center. If it comes out sticky, the bread needs to bake a bit more. If it comes out dry, remove the pans from the oven and place them on a wire rack to cool for 20 minutes.   Run the sharp blade of a knife around inside of all four sides of the pan to loosen the bread, and then tip it out onto the wire rack.   Cool the bread completely, and then wrap it in plastic wrap. At this point the bread can be frozen in a freezer bag for up to 3 months.   Hannah and Lisa’s Note: If you don’t tell anyone the name of this bread, they probably won’t ever guess it’s made with pork and beans.

Spinach Quiche Preheat oven to 375 degrees F., rack in the middle position   This is my recipe. It can be served as an appetizer if you cut it into thin slices and arrange them on a platter. It can also be served as an entrée.   One 9-inch unbaked pastry shell 1 beaten egg yolk (reserve the white in a small dish) 10-ounce package frozen chopped spinach ½ teaspoon salt ½ teaspoon pepper (freshly ground is best) 3 Tablespoons horseradish sauce 2 ounces shredded Jarlsberg (or good Swiss cheese) 4 eggs 1½ cups Half & Half (or light cream) 1/8 teaspoon salt 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper 1/8 teaspoon nutmeg (freshly ground is best)   Beat the egg yolk in a glass with a fork. Brush the inside of the unbaked pastry shell with the yolk. Set the shell aside to dry. Cook and drain the spinach. Squeeze out as much moisture as you can and then blot with a paper towel. In a bowl, combine the spinach with the salt, pepper, and horseradish sauce. Spread it in the bottom of the pastry shell. Sprinkle the top with the grated cheese. Beat the 4 whole eggs with the reserved egg white. Add the Half & Half, salt, and cayenne pepper. Mix well and pour on top of cheese. Sprinkle the top with nutmeg. Bake at 375 degrees F. for 40 minutes, or until a knife inserted one inch from the center comes out clean. Let cool for ten minutes and then cut into wedges and serve. This quiche can be served warm or at room temperature. I’ve even been known to eat it cold, straight out of the refrigerator. It’s perfect for a fancy brunch or a lazy, relaxed breakfast on the weekend. Yield: Serves from 12 to 18 as an appetizer. Serves six as an entrée if they only have one piece.

The cuisine of Northern Iran, overlooked and underrated, is unlike most Persian food in that it's unfussy and lighthearted as the people from that region. The fertile seaside villages of Mazandaran and Rasht, where Soli grew up before moving to the congested capital, were lush with orchards and rice fields. His father had cultivated citrus trees and the family was raised on the fruits and grains they harvested. Alone in the kitchen, without Zod's supervision, he found himself turning to the wholesome food of his childhood, not only for the comfort the simple compositions offered, but because it was what he knew so well as he set about preparing a homecoming feast for Zod's only son. He pulled two kilos of fava beans from the freezer. Gathered last May, shucked and peeled on a quiet afternoon, they defrosted in a colander for a layered frittata his mother used to make with fistfuls of dill and sprinkled with sea salt. One flat of pale green figs and a bushel of new harvest walnuts were tied to the back of his scooter, along with two crates of pomegranates- half to squeeze for fresh morning juice and the other to split and seed for rice-and-meatball soup. Three fat chickens pecked in the yard, unaware of their destiny as he sharpened his cleaver. Tomorrow they would braise in a rich, tangy stew with sour red plums, their hearts and livers skewered and grilled, then wrapped in sheets of lavash with bouquets of tarragon and mint. Basmati rice soaked in salted water to be steamed with green garlic and mounds of finely chopped parsley and cilantro, then served with a whole roasted, eight kilo white fish stuffed with barberries, pistachios, and lime. On the farthest burner, whole bitter oranges bobbed in blossom syrup, to accompany rice pudding, next to a simmering pot of figs studded with cardamom pods for preserves.

CRANBERRY SCONES Preheat oven to 425 degrees F., rack in the middle position. 3 cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it) 2 Tablespoons white (granulated) sugar 2 teaspoons cream of tartar (important) 1 teaspoon baking powder 1 teaspoon baking soda ½ teaspoon salt ½ cup softened salted butter (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound) 2 large eggs, beaten (just whip them up in a glass with a fork) 1 cup unflavored yogurt (8 ounces) 1 cup sweetened dried cranberries (Craisins, or their equivalent) ½ cup whole milk Use a medium-size mixing bowl to combine the flour, sugar, cream of tartar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Stir them all up together. Cut in the salted butter just as you would for piecrust dough.   Hannah’s Note: If you have a food processor, you can use it for the first step. Cut ½ cup COLD salted butter into 8 chunks. Layer them with the dry ingredients in the bowl of the food processor. Process with the steel blade until the mixture has the texture of cornmeal. Transfer the mixture to a medium-sized mixing bowl and proceed to the second step.   Stir in the beaten eggs and the unflavored yogurt. Then add the sweetened dried cranberries and mix everything up together.   Add the milk and stir until everything is combined.   Drop the scones by soup spoonfuls onto a greased (or sprayed with Pam or another nonstick baking spray) baking sheet, 12 large scones to a sheet. You can also drop these scones on parchment paper if you prefer.   Once the scones are on the baking sheet, you can wet your fingers and shape them into more perfect rounds. (If you do this and there are any leftovers, you can slice them in half and toast them for breakfast the next morning.)   Bake the scones at 425 degrees F. for 12 to 14 minutes, or until they’re golden brown on top.   Cool the scones for at least five minutes on the cookie sheet, and then remove them with a spatula. Serve them in a towel-lined basket so they stay warm.   Yield: Makes 12 large and delicious scones.

Misdemeanor Mushrooms Preheat oven to 325 degrees F., rack in the middle position   This recipe is from Bill Jessup, Charlie Jessup’s cousin and he’s a detective. Charlie says he calls these “Misdemeanor Mushrooms,” because they’re so good they ought to be illegal.   2 pounds pork sausage 3 cloves of finely chopped garlic 2 Tablespoons ground sage 8-ounce package cream cheese 1 Tablespoon parsley 1 ounce Marsala wine (optional) 1 pound medium to large mushrooms Parmesan cheese (to sprinkle)   In a large, non-stick skillet, combine sausage, garlic and sage. Sauté until sausage is browned and garlic is translucent. Drain fat from skillet and add softened, cubed cream cheese and parsley. Simmer for 10 minutes, stir in the wine (if you want to use it,) remove from heat, and cover. Wash mushrooms. Remove stems and set caps aside. Chop the stems very fine and stir into the sausage/ cheese mixture. Brush caps with melted butter and arrange cap-down on a non-stick baking sheet. (Bill says if you shave just a bit from the bottom of the cap to make them flat, they’ll sit on the pan a lot better.) Fill each cap with a heaping mound of warm sausage mixture and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese. Bake in a 325-degree F. oven for 15 minutes. Yield: Serves 15 to 20 people as an appetizer (unless Charlie

Cheesy Spicy Corn Muffins This recipe is from Danielle Watson. She argued that it really isn’t a recipe since it’s not made from scratch, but we told her that didn’t matter.   1 package corn muffin mix, enough to make 12 muffins 4-ounce can well-drained diced green chilies (Danielle uses Ortega brand) ½ cup finely shredded sharp cheddar cheese (or Monterey Jack)   Preheat oven according to the directions on the corn muffin package. Prepare the corn muffin mix according to package directions. Add the green chilies and the shredded cheese, and stir well. Line muffin pans with a double layer of cupcake papers and spray the inside with Pam. Spoon the batter into the cupcake papers. Bake according to corn muffin package directions. Danielle says to tell you that if you have visiting relatives who don’t like any spice at all, you can substitute a half can of well-drained whole-kernel corn for the peppers. Yield: Whatever it says on the package and a little more.

Spinach Rollups This recipe is from my friend Susan Zilber. Susan moved away to New York, but I bet she still makes these.   5 to 8 flour tortillas (the large burrito size) 16-ounce package frozen chopped spinach ¼ cup mayonnaise ½ cup softened cream cheese ¼ cup sour cream 1/8 cup dried chopped onion ¼ cup bacon bits 1 Tablespoon Tabasco sauce   Cook the spinach and drain it, squeezing out all the moisture. (Cheesecloth inside a strainer works well for this.) Mix together all ingredients except the tortillas. Spread small amount of spinach mixture out on the face of a tortilla. Roll it up and place it in a plastic freezer bag. Continue spreading and rolling tortillas until the spinach mixture is gone. Fold the plastic bag over when all the rollups are inside to make sure they stay tightly rolled. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours. (Overnight is best.) Slice with a sharp knife, arrange on a platter, and serve as appetizers. Susan says to tell you that once she started to make these and found that she was out of sour cream. She used all cream cheese instead, and they were delicious. Hannah’s Addition to Susan’s Rollups 5 to 8 flour tortillas (the large burrito size) 6 ounces chopped smoked salmon (or lox) 1 cup (8 ounces) softened cream cheese ¼ cup dried chopped onions 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 1 teaspoon dill weed (of course fresh is best)   Mix all the ingredients except the tortillas together in a bowl. Spread small amount of the salmon mixture out on the face of a tortilla. Roll it up and place it in a plastic freezer bag. Continue spreading and rolling tortillas until the salmon mixture is gone. Fold the plastic bag over when all the rollups are inside to make sure they stay tightly rolled. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours. (Overnight is best.) Slice with a sharp knife, arrange on a platter, and serve as appetizers. I made Susan’s Spinach Rollups too, and after I cut them the next day, I arranged both kinds on the platter in contrasting rings. It looked gorgeous.

GOODIE FUDGE 1 cup golden raisins (or any other dried fruit that you prefer, cut in raisin-sized pieces)*** 2 cups miniature marshmallows (I used Kraft Jet-Puffed) 1 cup chopped salted pecans (measure after chopping) ¾ cup powdered (confectioners) sugar (pack it down in the cup when you measure it) ½ cup salted butter (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound) ½ cup white corn syrup (I used Karo) 12-ounce package semi-sweet chocolate chips (2 cups) 2 teaspoons vanilla extract ***—I’ve used dried cherries, chopped dried apricots, and dried peaches in this fudge. They were all delicious and I think I’ll try dried blueberries next. Lisa makes it with chopped dried pineapple for Herb because he loves pineapple. Prepare your pan. Line a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan with heavy-duty aluminum foil. Make sure you tuck the foil into the corners and leave a flap all the way around the sides. (The reason you do this is for easy removal once the fudge has set.) Spray the foil with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. Sprinkle the raisins (or the other cut-up dried fruit you’ve used) over the bottom of the foil-lined cake pan. Sprinkle the miniature marshmallows over the fruit. Sprinkle the chopped pecans over that. Set the pan near the stovetop and get ready to make your fudge. Measure out the powdered sugar and place it in a bowl near the stove. You need it handy because you’re going to add it all at once. Melt the butter together with the corn syrup in a medium-sized saucepan over low heat. Add the chocolate chips and stir constantly until they’re melted and smooth. Remove the saucepan from the heat and add the vanilla. Be careful because it may sputter. Stir in the powdered sugar all at once and continue stirring until the mixture in the pan is smooth. Working quickly, spoon (or just pour if you can) the fudge you’ve made out of the saucepan and into the cake pan. Spread the fudge out as evenly as you can and stick it into the refrigerator to cool. Once the fudge has hardened, pull the foil with the fudge from your still-clean cake pan. Pull the foil down the sides and cut your Goodie Fudge into bite-sized pieces. Store in a cool place. Yield: 48 or more bite-sized pieces, depending on how large your bite is.

Cream of Cheat Mushroom Soup (This is one of Edna Ferguson’s recipes and she named it herself.)   2 cups chicken broth 8-ounce package sliced mushrooms (fresh, from the grocery store) with 12 perfect slices reserved for garnish 1 can (10 ¾ ounces) condensed Cream of Chicken Soup (undiluted) 2 cans (10 ¾ ounces each) condensed Cream of Mushroom Soup (undiluted) 1 cup heavy cream 8 oz. shredded Gruyere (or any good Swiss cheese, or even Monterey Jack) ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper   Combine the chicken broth and the package of mushrooms (remember to reserve those 12 perfect slices for the garnish) in a blender. Zoop them up. Add the can of Cream of Chicken soup to the blender. Zoop it all up. Spray the inside of a 4-quart slow cooker with Pam. Add the contents of the blender to the crock-pot. Add the cans of Cream of Mushroom soup to the crock-pot. Stir. Add the heavy cream, shredded cheese, and ground black pepper. Stir again. Cook on LOW for 4 to 5 hours. Ladle into bowls. Sprinkle with parsley and float

nothing in my grandmothers’ repertory had prepared me for that first wondrous mouthful of fruitcake at the house of a friend from college. It was a moist, alcoholic plum pudding, full of dark, saturated medieval tastes and colors—currants, dates, and black raisins, aromatic orange peel, mace and allspice and nutmeg, brandy and molasses—aged for a year and then set aflame at the very last minute, carefully spooned out like the treasure it was, and topped with an astonishing ivory sauce made only of butter, sugar, brandy, and nutmeg. They called it, simply, hard sauce. No

Alone in the kitchen, without Zod's supervision, he found himself turning to the wholesome food of his childhood, not only for the comfort the simple compositions offered, but because it was what he knew so well as he set about preparing a homecoming feast for Zod's only son. He pulled two kilos of java beans from the freezer. Gathered last May, shucked and peeled on a quiet afternoon, they defrosted in a colander for a layered frittata his mother used to make with fistfuls of dill and sprinkled with sea salt. One flat of pale green figs and a bushel of new harvest walnuts were tied to the back of his scooter, along with two crates of pomegranates- half to squeeze for fresh morning juice and the other to split and seed for rice-and-meatball soup. Three fat chickens pecked in the yard, unaware of their destiny as he sharpened his cleaver. Tomorrow they would braise in a rich, tangy stew with sour red plums, their hearts and livers skewered and grilled, then wrapped in sheets of lavash with bouquets of tarragon and mint. Basmati rice soaked in salted water to be steamed with green garlic and mounds of finely chopped parsley and cilantro, then served with a whole roasted, eight kilo white fish stuffed with barberries, pistachios, and lime. On the farthest burner, whole bitter oranges bobbed in blossom syrup, to accompany rice pudding, next to a simmering pot of figs studded with cardamom pods for preserves.

Speaking of pits in plum pudding, do you remember your sister’s first attempt? Your grandfather broke off his only remaining tooth trying to eat it.” “And swallowed tooth, pit and all, so he wouldn’t embarrass her in front of Gray Horse, who had come to court her.

Did I test your patience, my father?” Many Horses seemed to ponder that question a moment. “I found myself short on patience the time you shot me in the thigh with your first bow and arrow. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t been standing behind you.” Hunter laughed softly. “You weren’t when I let fly with the arrow. If I remember, I turned around to ask you a question.” “Which I never did answer. I always thanked the Great Ones that you were only knee high. If you’d been much taller, your brothers and sister never would have been born.” He sniffed again, then grinned. “Come to think of it, Warrior was even more dangerous with his first rifle. Remember the time he accidentally fired through my lodge and shot a hole in your mother’s cooking pot? She was boiling rabbit. The water hit the fire and filled the place with so much smoke, I nearly choked to death before I got everyone outside to safety.” Hunter threw back his head and roared with laughter. “I remember you pulling that rabbit out of the pot and telling Warrior it was a perfect shot, right through the heart. Except, of course, that it was gutted. And would he practice on live targets from then on?” “Speaking of pits in plum pudding, do you remember your sister’s first attempt? Your grandfather broke off his only remaining tooth trying to eat it.” “And swallowed tooth, pit and all, so he wouldn’t embarrass her in front of Gray Horse, who had come to court her.” Hunter placed a hand over his aching midriff and sighed. “It is good I came, my father. You have the gift. Already my heart is lighter.

Dinner began at five and went on until seven forty. It was a meal worthy of the age, the house, and the season. Pea soup to begin, followed by a roast swan with sweet sauce, giblets, mutton steaks, a partridge pie, and four snipe. The second course was a plum pudding with brandy sauce, tarts, mince pies, custards, and cakes, all washed down with port wine and claret and Madeira and home-brewed ale. Ross felt that there was only one thing missing: Charles.

One day we had one of those freak storms when the sky turned blue-black and the lightning fretted a silver filigree across it. And then had come the rain - great, fat, heavy drops, as warm as blood. When the storm had passed, the sky had been washed to the clear blue of a hedge-sparrow's egg and the damp earth sent out wonderfully rich, almost gastronomic smells as of fruit-cake or plum pudding; and the olive trunks steamed as the rain was dried off them by the sun, each trunk looking as though it were on fire.

[...] But in my own field, I can tell you what happens to books when they are put to these uses. They are examined for "developmental values," or read because they teach the concept of "relative size," or because of "good human relations," or "interracial concepts," or "vocabulary content." But when one searches for values and pushes them as if they were plums in a pudding, one destroys the texture and proportion of the pudding itself, and the art of pudding-making and the eating thereof are destroyed.

I only ever had one friend who was a person. His name was Orchid Harm. He could read faster than anyone I ever met and he kissed as fast as reading. He had hair the color of beetroot and eyes the color of mangosteen and he was a Sunslinger like his Papo before him. They caught sunshine in buckets all over Plum Pudding, mixed it with sugar and lorikeet eggs and fermented it into something not even a little bit legal. Orchid had nothing to do all day while the sun dripped down into his stills. He used to strap on a wash-basket full of books and shimmy up onto the roof of the opera house, which is actually a giantess’s skull with moss and tourmalines living all over it, scoot down into the curve of the left eye socket, and read seven books before twilight. No more, no less. He liked anything that came in sevens. I only came in ones, but he liked me anyway.

FOODS KNOWN TO BE HIGH IN FODMAPS THAT SHOULD THEREFORE BE RESTRICTED* Additives (sweeteners and added fiber): fructo-oligosaccharides, high-fructose corn syrup, honey, inulin, isomalt, mannitol, maltitol, polydextrose, sorbitol, xylitol Cereal and grain foods: bran (from wheat, rye, or barley); bread (from wheat, rye, or barley); breakfast cereals, granolas, and muesli (from wheat, rye, or barley); crackers (from wheat or rye); pasta, including couscous and gnocchi (from wheat); wheat noodles (chow mein, udon, etc.) Drinks: chamomile and fennel tea, chicory-based coffee substitutes, juices made from unsuitable fruits (below) Fruits: apples, apricots, Asian pears, blackberries, boysenberries, cherries, figs, mangoes, nectarines, peaches, pears, persimmons, plums, prunes, tamarillos, watermelon, white peaches Legumes: beans (all kinds, including certain forms of soy, such as textured vegetable protein/TVP), chickpeas, lentils Milk and milk products: custard, ice cream, milk (cow’s, goat’s, and sheep’s, including whole, low-fat, skim, evaporated, and condensed), pudding, soft cheeses, yogurt (cow’s, sheep’s, or goat’s) Nuts: cashews, pistachios Vegetables: artichokes (globe and Jerusalem), asparagus, cauliflower, garlic (and garlic powder in large amounts), leeks, mushrooms, onions (red, white, yellow, and onion powder), scallions (white part), shallots, snow peas, sugar snap peas

Books by Joanne Fluke CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE MURDER STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE MURDER BLUEBERRY MUFFIN MURDER LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER FUDGE CUPCAKE MURDER SUGAR COOKIE MURDER PEACH COBBLER MURDER CHERRY CHEESECAKE MURDER KEY LIME PIE MURDER CANDY CANE MURDER CARROT CAKE MURDER CREAM PUFF MURDER PLUM PUDDING MURDER APPLE TURNOVER MURDER DEVIL’S FOOD CAKE MURDER GINGERBREAD COOKIE MURDER JOANNE FLUKE’S LAKE EDEN COOKBOOK CINNAMON ROLL MURDER RED VELVET CUPCAKE MURDER Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

CHRISTMAS CHEESE ROUNDS For each cheese round you will need: 1 cup finely shredded cheddar cheese (measure after shredding, but pack it down in the measuring cup—I prefer a sharp cheddar.) 1 cup finely chopped pecans (measure after chopping) 8-ounce package softened cream cheese (the brick kind, not the whipped kind in the crock) ½ cup finely chopped green onions (you can use up to an inch of the stem) 1 small jar jalapeno jelly (I used Knott’s) Combine all the ingredients except the jalapeno jelly.

The butter should be at room temperature unless you live in an igloo.

Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with him, but you owe me. I want one of them five-gallon jugs of rice pudding when I come

So on Christmas morning I was up at five o'clock, making the fire as bright as a furnace, baking minc'd pies and boiling plum puddings the size of Medici cannonballs, and setting three sides of roast beef to turn on the spits. Soon I breathed again that steam that tells the soul it is Christmas, and all the year' work done, and time for feasting; the smell of oranges, sugarplums and cloves, all mingled with roasting meats.

Many Horses was putting the finishing touches on a bow he had been making when Hunter entered the tepee. Setting the weapon aside, he fastened his wizened old eyes on his eldest son and pursed his crinkled lips. “You look like you’ve been eating She Who Shakes’s plum pudding and bit into a plum pit.” Hunter was in no mood for jokes. “My woman has my hackles raised.” Sitting cross-legged, he picked up the iron poker next to him and began prodding the charred wood and ashes in his father’s firepit. “One unto the other, with no horizon, that is what she wants! Imagine her setting up a lodge, tanning hides, sewing, cooking, gathering wood, all by herself. And what if she became ill while I was away? Who would tend her? Who would keep her company? The way she believes, if I was gone for a long while, she couldn’t even go to Warrior to seek solace.” “Would you wish for her to?” Hunter gave the ashes a vicious poke, sending up a cloud of gray that made Many Horses cough. The truth was, he couldn’t bear the thought of Loretta with another man. “Right now, I’d give her away to the first man stupid enough to take her.” Many Horses kept silent. “All my children would be--” Hunter rolled his eyes. “Can you see me, surrounded by White Eyes?” “Ah, that is the trouble. She is a White Eyes.” Many Horses nodded and, in a teasing voice, said, “I don’t blame you there. No man could be proud of a son with white blood. He’d be weak and cowardly, a shame to any who claimed him.” Hunter froze and glanced up. The white blood in his own veins was an unspoken truth between him and his father. Never before had Many Horses alluded to it. Many Horses sniffed and rubbed the ash from his nose. “Of course, there are the rare exceptions. I suppose a man could raise a child of mixed blood and teach him to be one of the true People. It would take work, though.

Theologically Christmas Day is the greatest occasion for rejoicing offered to sinful mankind; but this aspect of it is so august and so great that the human mind refuses to contemplate it steadily, perhaps because of its own littleness, for which of course it is in no way to blame. It prefers to concentrate its attention on ceremonial observances, expressive generally of good will and festivity, such, for instance, as giving presents and eating plum-puddings. It may be said at once here that from that conventional point of view the spirit of Christmas Day at sea appears distinctly weak. The opportunities, the materials too, are lacking. Of course, the ship’s company get a plum-pudding of some sort, and when the captain appears on deck for the first time the officer of the morning watch greets him with a “Merry Christmas, sir,” in a tone only moderately effusive. Anything more would be, owing to the difference in station, not correct. Normally he may expect a return for this in the shape of a “The same to you” of a nicely graduated heartiness. He does not get it always, however.

All my children would be--” Hunter rolled his eyes. “Can you see me, surrounded by White Eyes?” “Ah, that is the trouble. She is a White Eyes.” Many Horses nodded and, in a teasing voice, said, “I don’t blame you there. No man could be proud of a son with white blood. He’d be weak and cowardly, a shame to any who claimed him.” Hunter froze and glanced up. The white blood in his own veins was an unspoken truth between him and his father. Never before had Many Horses alluded to it. Many Horses sniffed and rubbed the ash from his nose. “Of course, there are the rare exceptions. I suppose a man could raise a child of mixed blood and teach him to be one of the true People. It would take work, though.” The stiffness eased from Hunter’s shoulders. “Did I test your patience, my father?” Many Horses seemed to ponder that question a moment. “I found myself short on patience the time you shot me in the thigh with your first bow and arrow. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t been standing behind you.” Hunter laughed softly. “You weren’t when I let fly with the arrow. If I remember, I turned around to ask you a question.” “Which I never did answer. I always thanked the Great Ones that you were only knee high. If you’d been much taller, your brothers and sister never would have been born.” He sniffed again, then grinned. “Come to think of it, Warrior was even more dangerous with his first rifle. Remember the time he accidentally fired through my lodge and shot a hole in your mother’s cooking pot? She was boiling rabbit. The water hit the fire and filled the place with so much smoke, I nearly choked to death before I got everyone outside to safety.” Hunter threw back his head and roared with laughter. “I remember you pulling that rabbit out of the pot and telling Warrior it was a perfect shot, right through the heart. Except, of course, that it was gutted. And would he practice on live targets from then on?” “Speaking of pits in plum pudding, do you remember your sister’s first attempt? Your grandfather broke off his only remaining tooth trying to eat it.” “And swallowed tooth, pit and all, so he wouldn’t embarrass her in front of Gray Horse, who had come to court her.” Hunter placed a hand over his aching midriff and sighed. “It is good I came, my father. You have the gift. Already my heart is lighter.

The chef outdid himself, as one delectable dish after another was brought up from the kitchens. For Gabriel, there was a succulent roast goose with figs and a tender glazed ham, while (Esme) dined on a pair of clever cheese dishes, one made with cream and potatoes and another from Italy that combined cheese-filled flat noodles smothered with a wonderful rosemary butter sauce. Accompanying all of that was a plentiful array of vegetables, spiced and stewed fruits and freshly baked breads with creamy butter. And for dessert, there was a flaming plum pudding with a cognac whipped cream so strong it threatened to leave her tipsy.

A stew of potatoes, kidney beans, and chopped greens and onions simmered atop the small cast-iron range. The appetizing scent filled the cottage and drifted out the open windows. Remembering the many times she had made the dish for her father, Victoria smiled wistfully. Her father had never been a great lover of food, regarding it solely as a necessity for the body rather than something to be enjoyed. On the rare occasions when Victoria had made plum pudding, or brought currant buns from the bakery, he had nibbled at the treats and quickly lost interest. The only times she had ever seen him eat heartily, and with obvious enjoyment, was when she had made vegetable stew.

towel!’ ‘Take a break,’ suggests Colly. ‘Do some Christmas cooking. Make one yummy thing a day.’ ‘Good idea,’ says Ruby. But it’s not. She burns the Christmas cake and drops the shortbread while she’s pulling the tray out of the oven. Colly snorts at the shortbread disaster. ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures!’ She hands a teaspoon each to Ruby, Mu and me. We sit on the kitchen floor, scooping the broken bits into our mouths, laughing and spraying crumbs over each other. In the end, it’s not so much a disaster as a picnic. But when Ruby’s plum pudding escapes from its cloth and turns to mush in the pot of boiling water, she sits in the corner of the

Dessert, a rich plum pudding, was warming in the kitchen, but on the sideboard, awaiting their turn, was a tray of jellies and crèmes. Next to those treats stood four miniature silver carts drawn by tiny silver goats. Belle had given me the privilege of burdening them with sweetmeats and dark raisins

Black cake was essentially a plum pudding handed down to the Caribbeans by colonizers from a cold country.

To begin with, Bibb didn’t like Pidge’s expression, and she swallowed the last of her plum pudding before she spoke the boldest words she’d dared to utter.

That smells delicious, Miss Sydney... may I ask what it is?" "Marjoram sausage and potatoes. And green peas in cream." Ross's appetite kindled at the savory fragrance that wafted from the plate. Lately Sophia had taken a strong hand in the kitchen, showing the inept cook-maid how to prepare edible meals. She paid close attention to his likes and dislikes, observing that he preferred well-seasoned food and had an incurable sweet tooth. In the past several days Ross had succumbed to the temptation of crisp-crusted charlotte pudding mounded high with orange filling... plum cake rich with molasses and currants... sugared apples wedged between thick layers of dough.

It was fortunate that the room was empty, except for half a score or so of servants. These were busy enough laying out the six couple of roast fowl, the twenty pheasants, the baron of beef, the venison pies, gooseberry pies, and plum pudding, and they had no time or inclination to pay the least attention to their master's private conversation with his wife.

The variety of wares was staggering: stacks of brown haddock fried in batter, pea soup crowded with chunks of salt pork, smoking-hot potatoes split and doused with butter, oysters roasted in the shell, pickled whelks, and egg-sized suet dumplings heaped in wide shallow bowls. Meat pasties had been made in half-circle shapes convenient for hand carrying. Dried red saveloy and polony sausages, cured tongue, and cuts of ham seared with white fat were made into sandwiches called trotters. Farther along the rows, there was an abundance of sweets: puddings, pastries, buns crossed with fat white lines of sugar, citron cakes, chewy gingerbread nuts dabbed with crackled icing, and tarts made with currants, gooseberries, rhubarbs, or cherries. Ransom guided Garrett from one stand to the next, buying whatever caught her interest: a paper cone filled with hot green peas and bacon, and a nugget of plum dough. He coaxed her to taste a spicy Italian veal stew called stuffata, which was so delicious that she ate an entire cup of it.

Just a kid with hair the color of raisins and eyes the color of grape jelly, living the life glasstastic in a four bedroom wine bottle on the east end of Plum Pudding...

Christmas may be when we dream of peace on earth, and entertain feelings of goodwill to all men (and women), but there are limits. It is a mysterious, as well as magical , time of year. Strange things can happen, and this helps to explain the hallowed tradition of telling ghost stories around the fireside as the year draws to a close. Christmas tales of crime and detection have a similar appeal. When television becomes tiresome, and party games pall, the prospect of curling up in the warm with a good mystery is enticing – and much better for the digestion than yet another helping of plum pudding. Crime writers are just as susceptible as readers to the countless attractions of Christmas.

Compounds like wedding cake, suet plum-puddings, and rich turtle soup, are masses of indigestible material, which should never find their way to any Christian table (Shapiro citing Mary Peabody Mann, Christianity in the Kitchen).

Mock-turtle soup, salmon, fricasseed guillemot, spiced musk-ox tongue, crab-salad, roast beef, eider-ducks, tenderloin of musk-ox, potatoes, asparagus, green corn, green peas, cocoanut-pie, jelly-cake, plum-pudding with wine-sauce, several kinds of ice-cream, grapes, cherries, pineapples, dates, figs, nuts, candies, coffee, chocolate.

Corn Chowder This recipe is from Marjorie Hanks. She used to make it on the stove, but now that Luanne got her a slow cooker, she makes it this way.   ½ cup diced cooked ham (or 6 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled) 2 cups peeled, diced potatoes ½ cup chopped onion 2 ten-ounce packages frozen whole-kernel corn 1 can (16-ounces) cream-style corn 1 Tablespoon brown sugar 1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce 1 teaspoon Season Salt (see Mrs. Knudson’s recipe on backmatter) ½ teaspoon black pepper 1 cup chicken broth   Spray the crock of a 4-quart slow cooker with Pam. Combine all ingredients in the crock-pot and stir well. Cover and cook on LOW for 6 to 7 hours. Yield: Makes 4 hearty servings.

Potato Bake or Party Potatoes Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position   This is another recipe from Vera Olsen (“Hot Stuff”) who’s engaged to marry Andrew Westcott (“Silver Fox.”)   1/3 cup flour ½ teaspoon baking powder 2 teaspoons salt 1 teaspoon pepper ½ teaspoon garlic powder ½ teaspoon onion powder ½ teaspoon paprika 4 eggs 1 large grated onion ½ cup melted butter (1 stick, ¼ pound) 5 cups frozen hash browns or frozen Potatoes O’Brien 2 cups grated cheese (any kind will do)   Spray a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan with Pam or other non-stick spray. Mix flour, baking powder, salt, pepper, and seasonings in a large bowl with a fork. Add the eggs and whisk it all up. Stir in the onion, melted butter, grated cheese and potatoes. Dump the mixture into the cake pan, cover it with foil, and bake at 350 degrees F. for one hour. Remove foil, turn the oven up to 400 degrees F., and bake for an additional 15 to 30 minutes, or until the top is crusty and golden brown. If you want to make this into what Vera Olsen calls “Party Potatoes,” take the potatoes out of the oven, let them cool for about ten minutes so that the eggs and cheese hold them together, cut them into serving-size squares, (you can get about 12 from a pan,) transfer the squares to a platter, and top each one with a generous dollop of sour cream and a sprinkling of caviar (or crumbled bacon for those who don’t like caviar.)

The Quiche Lorraine Pie Shell: You can mix up your favorite piecrust recipe and line a 10-inch pie plate. Or…you can buy frozen shells at the grocery store. (If you decide to go the grocery store frozen pie shell route, buy 9-inch deep-dish pie shells.)   Hannah’s 1stNote: There’s no need to feel guilty if you choose to use the frozen pie shells. They’re good and it’s a real time saver. I happen to know that Edna Ferguson, the head cook at Jordan High, has been known to remove frozen pie shells from their telltale disposable pans and put them in her own pie tins to bake! (Sorry Edna—I just had to tell them.) Stack your pie shells in the refrigerator, or leave them in the freezer until two hours before you’re ready to use them.   Prepare your piecrust by separating one egg. Throw away the white and whip up the yolk with a fork. Brush the bottom and inside of your piecrust. Prick it all over with a fork and bake it in a 350 F. degree oven for 5 minutes. Take it out and let it cool on a wire rack or a cold stovetop while you mix up the custard. If “bubbles” have formed in the crust, immediately prick them with a fork to let out the steam. The Quiche Lorraine Custard: 5 eggs 1½ cups heavy whipping cream *** Hannah’s 2ndNote: You can do this by hand with a whisk, or use an electric mixer, your choice.   Combine the eggs with the cream and whisk them (or beat them with an electric mixer) until they’re a uniform color. When they’re thoroughly mixed, pour them into a pitcher and set it in the refrigerator until you’re ready to assemble the rest of your quiche. You may notice that you’re not adding any salt, pepper, or other seasoning at this point. You’ll do that when you assemble the quiche.   Hannah’s 3rdNote: You can mix up the custard ahead of time and store it in the refrigerator for up to 24 hours. When you’re ready to assemble your quiches, all you have to do is whisk it smooth and pour it out from the pitcher. The Quiche Lorraine Filling: 2 cups grated Gruyere cheese (approximately 7 ounces)*** 1 cup diced, well-cooked and drained bacon ½ teaspoon salt ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper ¼ teaspoon ground cayenne pepper (optional—use if you like it a bit spicy) ¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg (freshly grated is best, of course)   Sprinkle the grated cheese in the bottom of your cooled pie shell.   Spread the cup of diced bacon on top of the cheese.   Sprinkle on the salt, and grind the pepper over the top of the bacon.   Sprinkle on the cayenne pepper (if you decided to use it).   Grate the nutmeg over the top. Put a drip pan under your pie plate. (I line a jellyroll pan with foil and use that.) This will catch any spills that might occur when you fill your quiche with the custard mixture.   Take your custard mixture out of the refrigerator and give it a good whisk. Then pour it over the top of your Quiche Lorraine, filling it about half way.   Open your oven, pull out the rack, and set your pie plate and drip pan on it. Pour in more custard mixture, stopping a quarter-inch short of the rim. Carefully push in the rack, and shut the oven door.   Bake your Quiche Lorraine at 350 degrees F., for 60 minutes, or until the top is nicely browned and a knife inserted one-inch from the center comes out clean.   Let your quiche cool for 15 to 30 minutes on a cold stovetop or a wire rack, and then cut and serve to rave reviews.   This quiche is good warm, but it’s also good at room temperature. (I’ve even eaten it straight out of the refrigerator for breakfast!)

Cream of Cheat Mushroom Soup (This is one of Edna Ferguson’s recipes and she named it herself.)   2 cups chicken broth 8-ounce package sliced mushrooms (fresh, from the grocery store) with 12 perfect slices reserved for garnish 1 can (10 ¾ ounces) condensed Cream of Chicken Soup (undiluted) 2 cans (10 ¾ ounces each) condensed Cream of Mushroom Soup (undiluted) 1 cup heavy cream 8 oz. shredded Gruyere (or any good Swiss cheese, or even Monterey Jack) ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper   Combine the chicken broth and the package of mushrooms (remember to reserve those 12 perfect slices for the garnish) in a blender. Zoop them up. Add the can of Cream of Chicken soup to the blender. Zoop it all up. Spray the inside of a 4-quart slow cooker with Pam. Add the contents of the blender to the crock-pot. Add the cans of Cream of Mushroom soup to the crock-pot. Stir. Add the heavy cream, shredded cheese, and ground black pepper. Stir again. Cook on LOW for 4 to 5 hours. Ladle into bowls. Sprinkle with parsley and float several mushroom slices on top as a garnish. Irma York tested this recipe. She couldn’t write down how many cups it makes because her husband, Gus, kept sneaking it out of her slow cooker.

Dilly Onion Rings This is Ellie Kuehn’s recipe. She tried serving it on a sausage pizza out at Bertanelli’s and it was really good!   One large mild or sweet onion (a red onion is nice—more colorful) 1/3 cup white (granulated) sugar 2 teaspoons salt 1 teaspoon fresh baby dill (it’s not as good with dried dill weed) ½ cup white vinegar ¼ cup water   4 large ripe tomatoes as an accompaniment (optional)   Cut the onion in thin slices. Separate the slices into rings and put them in a bowl. Combine the sugar, salt, dill, white vinegar, and water. Pour the liquid over the onion rings. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 5 hours, stirring every hour or so. Serving suggestions: Slice large ripe tomatoes and arrange on a platter. Lift the onion rings out of the brine and sprinkle them on top of the tomato slices. Garnish with fresh, chopped