When George Bernard Shaw said England and America were “two countries divided by a common language,” he wasn’t referring to foods. But he might well have been.
Consider the potato. When the English dine on bangers and mash, they’re having what we call sausages and mashed potatoes. Our French fries are their chips. Hence, fish and chips. Bubble and squeak is not the name of an English child’s bathtub toy; it’s their dish of cabbage and potatoes.
The English say treacle. We say molasses. Our taffy is their toffee. We say eggplant; they say aubergine. Their prawns are our shrimp. Their courgette is our zucchini.
In England, an alewife is a woman who runs an alehouse or bar. In America, an alewife is a fish.
Their pies tend to be hearty meat- or fish-filled dishes. Ours are usually sweet, fruit- filled ones. They call those tarts. As do we, when we’re speaking French.
Their biscuit is our cookie. Our biscuit is their scone. Which they pronounce to rhyme with gone not phone.
We breakfast on oatmeal. They have porridge. In England, children dunk soldiers – strips of toasted or fried bread – into their morning eggs. American children settle for toast.
Or maybe English muffins. Which, of course, are American. The English call the equivalent crumpets.
On both sides of the Atlantic, pudding may well be the creamy, sweet dessert we’re all familiar with. However, in England the word is also a synonym for dessert. So when a Brit asks, “What’s the pudding tonight?” he is not asking whether it’s chocolate or butterscotch. He’s asking, “What’s for dessert?”
Sometimes the pudding is pudding, and it’s often iced or frozen. Ice cream made with candied fruits, currants, and nuts and usually flavored with liquor, frozen puddings were extremely popular in England in the 19th century. They were thought to have been inspired by English plum pudding, which is made with raisins, not plums.
The best known frozen pudding was called “Nesselrode,” after Russian count and diplomat Karl Vasilyevitch Nesselrode. In their book All About Ices, Jellies and Creams, published at the turn of the 20th century, English authors Henry G. Harris and S.P. Borella wrote that Nesselrode pudding’s composition varied considerably with “scarcely any two confectioners agreeing thereon.” They went on to report: “Chestnuts in some form are generally insisted upon, but seldom used even by those who insist.” It was usually served with a maraschino-flavored syrup.
Recipes for frozen pudding crossed the Atlantic quickly, and cooks made endless variations on the theme. But on both sides of the pond they did – and do – call it frozen pudding.
Nesselrode Pudding
Put one-half pound of shelled and skinned chestnuts in cold water and let boil until very tender. Then press through a sieve. Beat yolks of five eggs with one-half pound sugar until light, add mashed chestnuts, and stir in one pint sweet cream. Put on to boil in double boiler. Add few grains salt and stir until mixture begins to boil. Remove from fire and set aside to cool. When cool, put chestnut cream in freezer and freeze ten minutes; then add one pint stiffly whipped cream with two tablespoons powdered sugar; then add one-half pound crystallized fruit that has been previously cut into pieces. Flavor with vanilla. Freeze a little longer; pack in pudding form in ice and rock salt for two hours. – The Neighborhood Cook Book, Council of Jewish Women, Portland, Oregon, 1914.
Happy New Year to you and yours.
Thanks, Jeri
Posted by: Jeri Quinzio | January 09, 2011 at 11:22 AM
Hi Merry Christmas and Happy New Year
Posted by: school_dubl | December 29, 2010 at 09:24 AM
I liked your site, you are very interesting to write. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Posted by: Antivirus_man | December 06, 2010 at 03:45 AM
Glad to study the matter, but please let me know where you think I've gone wrong.
Thanks, Jeri
Posted by: Jeri Quinzio | November 02, 2010 at 07:59 PM
I think you are not quite right and you should still studying the matter.
Posted by: Music_master | September 24, 2010 at 08:33 PM
I can vouch for the Pudding Hollow Pudding Contest. I've been a judge for the last three years, so I must rise early on a lovely autumn morning (because the sun always shines on puddings), drive along the Mohawk Trail, be greeted by warm smiles and good wishes, EAT PUDDING, all of them good, some of them great, be entertained (for there is always entertainement -puddings are fun!), sing along with the town song - a real Whos in Whoville Christmas Morning Moment - and then announce the winners of the contest. Ah, yes, such is the life of a foodways culinarian! AND they raise funds for their historical society. Good food, good cause, good times.
Posted by: KMWall | February 26, 2009 at 11:18 AM
Hi, Jeri--You sound like a true kindred spirit! Would you be interested in entering my charity Pudding Hollow Pudding Contest? It's lots of fun and a very good cause. Here's the information if you think you might be interested:
http://www.merrylion.com/master/events/events.html.
Yours in good food (ESPECIALLY pudding),
Tinky
Posted by: Tinky Weisblat | February 25, 2009 at 05:27 PM
I loved frozen pudding as a child. My uncle would joke that it was two desserts in one - ice cream and pudding! We almost always had it with claret sauce, just like spumoni. Lately I've been making - and eating - hot pudding, Indian pudding, which is pudding you put ice cream on, so I guess I've been keeping a two-in-one dessert tradtion.
Posted by: KMWall | February 17, 2009 at 03:35 PM
As an American expat in London this post could not be more perfect. The pudding as all things dessert still makes no sense to me because they do have specific puddings. I learned about soldiers last week at breakfast.
Posted by: gastroanthropologist | February 13, 2009 at 11:11 AM