The British hold a steamed pudding close to their hearts. Like a culinary hot-water bottle, it may not be terribly elegant but it’s hard not to feel comforted and delighted by its presence.

Most, however, follow a similar formula: a sponge cake mixture that is steamed into ethereal lightness and topped with a gooey, drippy sauce. This isn’t to decry them: I could never be fatigued by the spongy similarity of a golden syrup pudding and a bronzely glistening ginger one but they all come from the same sponge playbook, so I was intrigued to find one that doesn’t fit the mould.

The Great Boomer Declutter is under way

France can no longer ignore the menace of left-wing violence

Why can’t this advert depict a black sexual harasser?

Once turned out, the pudding shows off its stained-glass exterior, candied fruit peeking through the custard

Once turned out, the pudding shows off its stained-glass exterior, candied fruit peeking through the custard

Cabinet pudding is a Victorian steamed pudding, but different from those you might find at the end of a pub menu, as it combines sponge fingers or stale cake with an onslaught of custard. It has fallen somewhat out of favour and is unlike any other pudding I’ve made. The result is soft, wobbly, layered, plump and moist. I described it to a friend as ‘a cooked trifle’, which, while accurate, may suggest I won’t have a career in marketing.

The origins of both the concept and the name are murky. Also sometimes called........

© The Spectator