On Saturday night I was invited to a party – one serving puddings and pink cocktails – and it certainly lived up to its billing.
When I arrived, the dining table was already groaning under the weight of a myriad of different puddings (or deserts, if you prefer that word) – but they were just the cold ones. A whole load of other hot puddings would also appear during the evening, squeezed onto any scrap of space vacated on the table as people devoured the deserts.
Myself, I could only manage about three bowls before I was full, but as I was leaving I had a huge amount of bread and butter pudding trust into my hands by the hostess, much of which is still in my fridge two days later. It could last me all week!