Our Jam Pudding Mishap: A Sticky Situation That Brought Us Together

Our Jam Pudding Mishap: A Sticky Situation That Brought Us Together

The winter weather inspired foster carer Sarah* to reminisce on winter's past, bringing this heartwarming story to mind. Read on to see how a simple day of cooking became a story that would be retold for years to come.

With the weather getting colder by the day I was reminded of some really beautiful cold crisp and sunny days that I used to get at my old house. Whilst I was wondering when we might see a glimpse of spring a memory popped into my head and I thought I would share it with you.  The moral of the story is check and verify.

I had 4 children in placement at the time, two teenage girls and two boys aged 8 and 10.  We had been snowed in for a couple of days and the log burners were doing overtime.  Hot casseroles and warming soups were the fare of the day and I decided to make an old-fashioned steamed jam pudding. For those that haven’t had it, it’s jam of your choice in the bottom of a pudding bowl.  A sponge cake mix is put on top and the whole lot steamed until cooked. Delicious, turned right side up with hot jam on the top, served with custard, ice cream, or cream – or let’s face it,  all three if they happen to be in the fridge!

Imagining turning said pudding out to claps of appreciation and delight from the now very invested kids I set to with pudding bowl and mixer.  I made it, put it in the saucepan with water to steam and left it bubbling away on the burner for an hour or so. Cosied up on the sofa with the younger two boys watching movies I asked one of the girls to top up the water and promptly forgot all about it.

Dinner was served and eaten with great enthusiasm,  everyone looking forward to the unveiling of the pudding.  So, plates cleared I opened the top of the pudding, removed the tin foil and greaseproof paper and placed the plate on the top ready to turn over to catch any loose jam on the way down the sides.  All eyes on me, I turned the pudding bowl over, placed the plate and the upturned bowl on the kitchen counter and to excited shouts of

1, 2, 3! Lifted the bowl up to reveal the spectacular pudding beneath. The only problem was, somewhere between topping the water up and me releasing it from the bowl the young lady in question had forgotten to put the saucepan back on the burner to cook and hadn’t told me.  Embarrassed, she had slipped it back onto the burner just before we sat down to eat so the pudding wasn’t anywhere near cooked inside. It held for about 10 seconds and then with a spectacular whoosh! collapsed into a volcano of hot raspberry jam and uncooked sponge mixture which was at that point looked much like an angry newly lanced boil.  

The air went out of the room as everyone gasped with shock and a 20-second silence as my first thought was to make sure none of the kids were splashed with the scalding hot mixture to add insult to injury swiped at the pulsating hot mess with my egg flipper to push it to the opposite side of the kitchen with a swing Venus Williams would have been proud of. Jam and batter now adorned the kitchen units, the counter and the floor and a very shocked but not harmed cat shot out the cat flap like a bat out of hell. 

All eyes on me, I stood shocked but relieved and quickly placed a clean tea towel over my face.  The kids realising I was trying really hard to hold it together bust out into hysterical if not a little relieved laughter. Well, actually we were weak for about 10 minutes after that as the kids enjoying every minute of my embarrassment sought to see who could pull a face exactly like mine depicting the moment of shock with more and more hilarity.

We didn’t get to eat the winter pudding that day, jam sponge was replaced with sliced bananas and custard but the laughter and the retelling of the story, highly exaggerated, has gone down in house history, is brought up at every opportunity, and still keeps us warm.