From Pudding To Pie
by Eric N Gibson
Contributing Writer
Sometimes something easy and yummy in our life is what we really need to boost our morale or just pick us up out of a rut. That can easily be accomplished with Pudding Pie. With just a few simple ingredients and no baking this is an easy treat.
It probably comes as no surprise to regular readers that my favorite subject is history. I grew up listening to Paul Harvey on the radio. Who could ever forget that tag line… “in a minute, I’m going to tell you the rest of the story!” And as I often say, what would this feature be without some history? After all, history, culture, and food are so deeply interwoven into the fabric of who we are. Food has quite literally influenced our culture right down to the vernacular we use, those little isms and sayings we employ as part of our everyday speech. Case in Point: “From pudding to pie.” is a saying used by our cousins “across the pond” and it is akin to our saying “from A to Z” to describe something that is all encompassing. But, have you ever wondered where the saying “From pudding to pie” came from? (Probably not since most people have never heard it.) Have you ever heard of the Great Fire of London? No? Well, sit right back in your chair while I try my best Paul Harvey impression, “because in a minute, I´m going to tell you… the rest of the story.”
Sunday, September 2, 1666. Shortly after midnight a fire breaks out in a bakery owned by Robert Ferryner. Located on Pudding Lane, a narrow track just off of Fish Street, in London, with dwellings, shops, and business fronts all tightly packed shoulder to shoulder on both sides of the street. An errant ember from the hearth lands somewhere in the kitchen. A few wisps of smoke and in a moment the glowing ember comes alive; flicker to flame, flame to blaze. In minutes the entire kitchen erupts in a great conflagration.
As fire begins to rip through the dwelling, occupants are awakened to the suffocating smell of heavy smoke as a flickering orange hue dances its menacing gyrations on darkened walls. Trying desperately to extinguish the blaze, all efforts are in vain against the growing inferno. Alarms are cried out. Neighbors awakened. To the horror of witnesses in this sleepy section of London the cataclysm rapidly takes on the characteristics of life itself, jumping from house to house. Embers rising, silently fill the night’s sky, only to come down again, to rest on rooftops igniting thatch, pitch, and board alike.
The entire country has suffered immensely these last few years; the privations of wars, the Plague, and London, England’s largest city of more than 350,000 inhabitants with little in the way of sanitation, is now gripped by a summer drought leaving the city unseasonably dry. Old buildings, cramped conditions, everything from makeshift sheds to government storehouses each filled with hay, straw, and consumables of every description; are the makings for a recipe for disaster.
As night turns to day and day to night the inferno is whipped into a wild frenzy by easterly winds. Occupants flee the city taking anything they can carry on foot into the countryside while the wealthy try to remove possessions by the cart load. Streets are filled with pandemonium while acre after acre is consumed in a gale of glutinous flames.
Backed up against The Thames there was ample water in the river but fire fighting apparatus of the time were inconsequential, little more than “portable” pumps and bucket brigades, against a blaze of stifling magnitude. As city block after city block is consumed by the inferno town officials give orders to create fire breaks; setting off charges to blow up buildings and physically pulling down homes and businesses. All in an attempt to starve the flames of their fuel and save what was left of a rapidly disintegrating city before the blaze could reach the powder magazines at the Tower of London.
Five days later the easterly winds wane, redirecting to the west. Three hundred seventy-three acres within the city walls and another sixty-three acres outside the city are all laid to waste. More dwellings and businesses than can be counted along with eighty-seven parish churches and St. Paul’s Cathedral are a total loss. As the city breathes a collective sigh of relief, the last of the flames are finally extinguished where two roads come to meet. Someone is overheard describing the fires´ path of destructive rampage “from Pudding Lane to Pye (Pie) Corner”, little did they know that they had just given birth to the phrase, ¨From pudding to pie¨. And that, my friends… is the rest of the story.
As for Pudding Pie, this pie is readily adaptable to a flavor of your choice, I just happened to have Butterscotch pudding on hand. Vanilla, Chocolate, or even Pistachio would be equally as delicious. Add ins and add-ons are up to you. A garnish of Toffee Candy Bar crumbs for Butterscotch. Perhaps a Pistachio Pudding in a Chocolate shell with some crushed chocolate wafers on top? Maybe a graham shell with slices of banana on the bottom of a Vanilla Pudding Pie? Even fresh berries with chocolate is a good combination. The choices are yours to discover and the extra whipped topping too, is a good garnish. Can you use sugar free pudding and sugar free whipped topping? Well, yes, but I can tell you the best results I have gained so far are from using regular instant pudding with regular whipped topping.
I´d say the most disappointing aspect of this pie is the “wait time.” In this instant gratification society with a name like “instant pudding” it makes one assume this is a mix, pour, and eat pie. Not so, for this pie needs time to ¨set up¨ and the longer the better. If you want to eat this pie for dinner your best to plan ahead by a day. (At least 8 hours, perhaps 9, and even the next day would be better still.) This will give the pudding and the whipped topping mixture time to firm up and hold their shape. You will be rewarded with a slice of pie worthy of the title Simple Feast.
Enjoy!
