So bring us some figgy pudding!

I do not know when my obsession with figgy pudding happened, but perhaps it was several years ago. I was watching a BYU-produced comedy called Studio C. 

Studio C was a mix of hilarious little comedy skits that the students apparently put together. Some of the skits were amazingly perceptive and had a humorous slant at the time. One happened to be around Christmastime and centered around an obsession with figgy pudding carolers. 

Of course, it was not unknown to me that figgy pudding existed. After all, I had sung the Christmas song, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” myself numerous times over the course of my life. But it was that studio skit that made me actually want to give it a try and see what it was all about. After all, I further discovered there were not many people I knew who ever even tried figgy pudding, and it was really an English delicacy.

I was not making much money at the time, and figgy pudding cost a lot, at least for a part-time worker like me. So my initial desire flattened as I checked my bank account that year.

I shared my thoughts on figgy putting with others, and they encouraged me to give it a try. However, they had never indulged in it. I think they wanted me to “feel it out” for them to see if it would be worth the effort.

Nevertheless, my interest never ceased. Unfortunately, I always remembered figgy pudding at the wrong time of year, or once again was not interested enough to put out that much money. 

But this year was different for some reason. I wanted to try it and solve the “mystery” of my taste buds, how figgy pudding tasted. I wanted to see what the big deal was and why they would consider it a mainstay in both a verse for a Christmas song, unless it just rhymes. And, when you read the lyrics or even sing them, aren’t they a big belligerent in their demand, “So bring us some figgy pudding!”? 

Surprisingly, I didn’t want to do further research on the history, as is my fixation with anything. I had watched several cooking programs over the years on the history and cooking artistry of figgy pudding. Some made me ensure not to watch them again while gnawing at the cake.

In addition to figgy pudding, I'd like to know what plum pudding was, too. I had heard, of course, of plum pudding most of my life, as well in relation to Christmas or more or less English Christmases. I may have heard about them in old English Christmas films like "A Christmas Carol” or others. 

I wanted to give them both a try and see what they would taste like and what all the hype was about. 

Before Christmas, I ordered myself some figgy pudding, and for New Year's, I decided to try the plum pudding. 

Well, the thing I can guarantee about both of them is that they have nothing to what I would consider being a “pudding” at all. I would consider pudding more of a softer type of substance that is delicate and extremely tasty. 

On Christmas Eve, I opened up the figgy pudding. It had an unusual container, but I didn't see any particular reason for it, except that it held the cake’s round shape. 

The figgy pudding's aroma of molasses and currants overwhelmed me when I first peeled back the container’s opening. It turned out that figgy pudding was actually a cake, and an extremely tough, thick cake. 

To me, this reminded me of my first bagel. Many people compared donuts to bagels when asked, except for a few oddities. A bagel is the thickest and chewiest bread I have ever had, and it had nothing to do with a donut’s texture. I remember when they brought it to work, and I had never had one before. 

“Okay, I'll give it a try. I don't mind trying yuppie food.” 

For I considered it a type of snobbish wannabe upper-class delicacy.

It wasn't bad, and I've had a few bagels since, but I'm not a big fan of them, no matter what the flavor or spreads. 

The same about figgy pudding. The cake was very heavy and thick and not overly tasty despite the varied ingredients.

However, it did not keep me from finishing the little cake a couple of days later. Despite my obvious sweet tooth, eating that tough cake did take me several days, even though it was relatively small. 

So we come to New Year's Eve and the plum pudding. Or actually, I started New Year's Eve Eve. 

It, too, had a very distinctive aroma, but it was not overly overpowering, unlike the figgy pudding. And it, too, had a similar container to hold its shape.

As far as the “plum” is concerned, all I can think of is that it was mixed up with the multiple listings of fruits. I did not notice anything specific about plums in the “plum” pudding, but there are quite a few raisins. It was, however, somewhat more moist than the figgy pudding.

It, too, was another thick cake, not resembling anything I would consider a pudding-like delicacy. It was darker in color than the figgy pudding as well, probably because of the different ingredients, such as rum. 

From the first bite, it was tasty, but it is a food that takes time to acquire. Not all people would like it, I'm sure. I seriously doubt that it will become a traditional staple for the holidays in my home any time soon.

I am not at all disappointed in my holiday experiments. After all, it gave me far more experience with treasured traditional luxuries that have been referred to for centuries. If once in a blue moon or coon’s age, someone happens to reference these “puddings casually,” I will be pleased to enlighten them – and warn them – on what to expect. 

Expensive, English, touch cakes that take an acquired taste to really enjoy! 

And apparently from the connotation in the song, it was fiercely demanded during Christmas: So bring us some figgy pudding!!

The fundamental question: Or what will happen if it is not produced when demanded? Brrrrr …