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Spectator
4 days ago
- General
- Spectator
God save the great British pudding!
There are certain names of puddings that, if whispered to an Englishman of a certain age, will bring back near-Proustian reveries about their childhood. Rhubarb crumble. Bakewell tart. Sticky toffee pudding. The most naughty-sounding of them all, spotted dick. These, and many more, are often dismissed with the sobriquet 'nursery food', but in fact only the most well-heeled of dessert-munchers would ever have enjoyed such fare in their nursery. In fact, they were mostly likely to have been encountered at various fee-paying institutions, firstly as a staple of the boarding school lunch or supper. They then would have kept popping up in different guises throughout life, whether served at Oxbridge high table, at an Inns of Court lunch or simply on demand in a members' club on St James. They might well be regarded as an innocent – if undeniably calorific and stodge-laden – pleasure, but it is now being suggested that there has been a lack of uptake for the great British pudding in domestic circles too. Dr Andrew Hann, an English Heritage expert, has reported without relish that: People tend to 'like what they know' and, over time, this has led to puddings falling out of fashion with younger generations who rarely eat them. If this decline continues, we can expect the classic great British pud to all but vanish within the next 50 years. Hann, rightly, sees this as a disaster, remarking that: I'm pretty sure I speak for most people when I say that is not something we want to happen. There truly is nothing better in life than syrup sponge smothered in custard. Yet he might, alas, be fighting a losing battle. As he notes, the tendency for families to have meals together is declining. Younger members are often far more interested in WhatsApping artfully lit naked pictures of themselves to potential paramours or fighting strangers on X than enjoying the delights of mater's apple crumble. Not, of course, that mum (or dad) has the opportunity to spend hours making such a crumble. Chances are these days in the average nuclear family that both parents have full-time jobs that involve a complex maelstrom of childcare arrangements in order to keep body and soul together. The last thing that any parent generally wants to do at the end of a busy working day is to come home and make an elaborate dessert that will include lashings of custard and, no doubt, something deliciously unhealthy involving suet, raisins, sugar and all sorts of other forbidden delights. We live in a censorious and increasingly boring age, and the knowledge that the great British pudding is one of the many trifles (no pun intended) that is threatened by the demands of work and waistline management alike is a minor tragedy. Three cheers to English Heritage, who have a range of schemes designed to get us eating pudding all over again – ranging from publishing a book that includes a range of classic recipes to creating ice creams to be sold at their properties in what remains of the summer. There will be both sticky toffee and apple crumble flavours – but I fear that it might be too little, too late. Still, for myself, you'll have to prise my final helping of spotted dick from my cold, dead hands before I give it up for good. And even if it has led to an almighty coronary in the process, at least I will have gone down with a pudding-induced smile on my face.
Yahoo
15-04-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Easter egg hunts over the years: A look back at seven decades of Nashville fun
Every Easter, the hunt for pastel-colored eggs takes place in yards, parks, churches and houses around the globe. Children wait behind a starting line, scanning the grounds for hidden treasures. Once given the signal, some sprint to collect troves of hard-boiled or plastic eggs, while others take their time to gently fill their baskets. Easter egg hunts date back to Germany and the 16th century, according to the English Heritage, a charity that cares for historic sites across England. From there, the tradition spread to England. 'It was practice initially in the royal court,' said Andrew Hann, the head of the Historians' Team on the English Heritage podcast. 'We know, for instance, that Queen Victoria enjoyed egg hunts as a child at Kensington Palace. … There's one reference from Queen Victoria's diary in 1833 where she says, 'Mama did some pretty painted and ornamented eggs and we look for them.' The playful activity made its way to America. And while German immigrants brought Easter egg hunts to Pennsylvania in the 18th century, the first official White House Easter Egg Roll took place in 1878 under President Rutherford B. Hayes' administration. Photographer Gerald Holly of The Tennessean took photos in 1961, capturing 500 hundred children in black-and-white snaps searching the high grasses of the Colemere Club. The next three decades brought hunts to Belle Meade Country Club, Howard High School and Boyd Park. Some of the first photographs of color came in the 1990s. A cute photo by Larry McCormack shows a 5-year-old grabbing the tail of the Easter Bunny. The eggs-ellent tradition continues through today at several locations including the Nashville Zoo, Tennessee Central Railway Museum, and Bellevue Neighborhood Market. This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: See the photos of seven decades of Easter egg hunts in Nashville
