A Most British Autumnal Pudding

Marmalade is as British as a Bed and Breakfast on a windswept north, south, east or west coast. It comes in recycled jars with gingham cloth lids and is available from the homemade stalls at every village fete. It is the favourite food of our most adored and cherished literary immigrant, Paddington Bear, who has shared his much-loved marmalade sandwich with the Queen.

Marmalade is as quintessentially and eccentrically British as red telephone boxes, a pint of dark ale, thatched cottages, and Royalty. It is odd in taste, texture, and origin. It is not sweet or sour. It is bittersweet. It contains shredded peel that is difficult to chew from oranges that originate from Asia but are now largely imported from Seville, and it is the only British jam I know that is made in the winter months of January and February.

As a grocer, I assure you that if I do not have Seville oranges on sale for marmalade making, there will be a middle-class outcry next year.

Perhaps it is the nostalgia, maybe it is the quirk of it, or perhaps, like all sweet and sour foods, it does truly release dopamine into our system that makes us feel good. Likely, it is all of these qualities combined.

Yesterday, a crisp October Sunday, when even the sun's touch was cold, I looked inside my cupboard and saw a jar of marmalade that I had bought from my son's Cub Scout stall. I knew as I saw it what I had to make for lunch. Just looking at its cloth-bound lid frothed so much nostalgia and thoughts of comfort that I was genuinely compelled to roll up my sleeves, get out my mixing bowl and make the most British of autumnal puddings I could conceive: Marmalade Sponge and Custard.

Here is how I made mine:

Grease a round, deep, pudding dish and spoon marmalade into the bottom. Make the fluffiest sponge you can, whichever way you like. Spoon the batter on top, bake at 180/350 degrees, when it is domed and springs back to the touch it is done.

Turn out onto a plate.

Serve with custard.

Here is how I make my custard (note: it is only Creme Anglaise if you are very, very posh... or French):

Place 5 egg yolks in a pan, mix with 4 tablespoons of caster sugar and a teaspoon of vanilla paste, and leave to one side while you heat half a pint of milk and half a pint of cream to just before boiling point. Slowly pour the milk and cream over the eggs and sugar, stirring constantly. Place the mix back on the stove and stir on a medium heat until thick.

Serve immediately for maximum fluffy, gooey, sumptuously moreish comfort.

Be prepared to want more.

With Love, CJ xxx