Blog & News / Christmas wedding favours



Christmas pudding production has slowed somewhat over the last ten days due to me spending around 9 hours at our local hospital on three different occasions with two different children (they're both fine now - the Bear broke his finger and the Baby dented his head on the hearth). I did A&E twice, fracture clinic and the paediatric assessment unit, often with all three in tow, and often for hours at a stretch. It's been epic. This week I also discovered the gin section in Booker.

But back to puddings. These tiny ones are properly cute - and while one might not fill a family of four after Christmas dinner, I've come up with some occasions on which a mini Christmas pudding would be excellent (they are also something interesting and aromatic to carry around in your bag, as I'm demonstrating here):
1) Wedding favours - personalised with the name of the couple and the date of marriage
2) Dinner party - a festive alternative to the obligatory Gu pots
3) Gifts for staff and colleagues - how great would it be to arrive at work on Christmas Eve and discover one of these on your desk
4) Gifts for clients - fab in a Bee & Bear box with some festive brownies and a couple of muffins
5) Teacher thank you gifts - with a personalised message from your offspring

So there you go!

And as well as on-line, you can also purchase aforementioned puds from British Design: British Made in Battle from mid-November onwards, or at the following Christmas Fairs:
11 November - Vinehall School
25 November - King John's Nursery
2 December - Poppinghole

Larger sizes are available.

I'm hoping for a quieter week, and to spend less on hospital parking.
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So it's the 17th September, and I've made 70 Christmas puddings... I started at the end of August. Even by my own fairly ridiculous standards, it's been an epic few weeks of soaking, grating, zesting, mixing, simmering and steaming. I've launched mini puddings as wedding favours, and offered up own branding for corporate gifts. Parts of our house are no longer recognisable, as every cool and dark corner is filled with hermetically sealed puddings, maturing before their market debuts. It's exciting, but frankly also exhausting. And so this afternoon I took a welcome break from the kitchen to go and work a Sunday lunch shift at the pub. I've been moonlighting there sporadically for a couple of months now - I soon realised that what was initially a temporary stint covering a friend on maternity leave was actually a few hours of adult conversation, watching someone else do the cooking, and a chance to relive my student days of pint pulling in Edinburgh (although I did get fired from that job due an unfortunate mix-up involving changing my flights and forgetting I'd told them I couldn't work that weekend...I was young...and very drunk when I rocked up demanding long vodkas from my boss who thought I was overseas).

The Volvo still regularly refuses to start, so I took Grizzly's car instead. Ancient, but reliable. I had to park against a hedge, so could only get out of the passenger side, which involved a lot of clambering over things and generally unladylike behaviour. After four hours of roast dinners and pints of Harveys I skipped back to the car, recharged and ready to face the pudding basins and children again, delighted with myself for choosing the car that never fails to deliver. Except it wouldn't start. Because I'd gone out of the passenger door the alarm telling me the lights were on didn't sound, and because I normally drive a Volvo I never have to turn them on, let alone off again. After a brief sob into the steering wheel, wondering whether any other driver has had so many disappointments when turning a car key, I stomped back to the pub to announce what an utter cretin I am. Happily Lovely Bob came to my rescue with jump leads.

And as another week of baking dawns, I pause to reflect on how long it will be before the Volvo next leaves me high and dry. Happy times. Horse and carts all round, I say. Here's me in ten years time.
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