Flaming Christmas

It's an established fact, it would seem, that I am wined and dined at Christmas by my #2 son and family on the strict understanding that I bring a pudding and the brandy butter and make the custard to accompany these gastronomic delights. The pudding is one that my mother and my grandmother made before me from a recipe in The Glasgow Cookery Book, a battered copy of which I still use. The seven-cup pudding in question is annotated 'very good' in my Grandmother's green ink.

The flaming is equally ritualistic and is done by #2 son with a brimming ladleful of brandy and a handy candle or two. It tastes magnificently boozy, and the children love it ...