1. Allow an environmentally sound light bulb to explode in your pantry, showering everything with powdered glass and presumably elemental mercury omg.
2. Clean everything and every surface in the pantry. Linger lovingly over the liquor shelf.
3. Find an ancient and out of date christmas pudding! Unwrap it, tie shiny ribbon in hair, and get girlfriend to examine pudding for mould.
4. Crumble pudding in bowl. Sprinkle with Cointreau. Drink rest of Cointreau (Aussies, tastes like Durotuss, y/y?) because useless to put that bottle back now. It was nearly empty.
5. Melt 100 g of chocolate. I'm melting dark chocolate, because I am a super-sophisticated drinker of liqueurs. Actually, I'm melting 111g because that's funnier. ACtually, I'm melting 111g plus all the bits that fell on the bench. /accurate. /hygienic.
6. Stir chocolate into pudding crumbs. Put in fridge. Ogle bottle of Cointreau. Decide chocolate is tastier than cough syrup.
7. Shape mixture into balls and put in really neat rows on a tray lined with baking paper.
8. Return to fridge. Put water back on to boil. Assemble double boiler arrangement again. Load with dark chocolate.
9. Rummage in cuttlery drawer for truffle baller, giggling. Truffle baller, guys. Truffle baller.
10. Dip your balls in the melted chocolate. Ponder the amazing nature of that last sentence.
11. Put the pudding balls back in the fridge to harden.
12. Tomorrow, which is Christmas Day for us, eat tiny reconstituted chocolate covered puddings.
(If you are feeling fancy, you can pipe white chocolate on the top to simulate brandy sauce, but I'm not that fancy. By which I mean I cannot melt white chocolate without it seizing.)
2. Clean everything and every surface in the pantry. Linger lovingly over the liquor shelf.
3. Find an ancient and out of date christmas pudding! Unwrap it, tie shiny ribbon in hair, and get girlfriend to examine pudding for mould.
4. Crumble pudding in bowl. Sprinkle with Cointreau. Drink rest of Cointreau (Aussies, tastes like Durotuss, y/y?) because useless to put that bottle back now. It was nearly empty.
5. Melt 100 g of chocolate. I'm melting dark chocolate, because I am a super-sophisticated drinker of liqueurs. Actually, I'm melting 111g because that's funnier. ACtually, I'm melting 111g plus all the bits that fell on the bench. /accurate. /hygienic.
6. Stir chocolate into pudding crumbs. Put in fridge. Ogle bottle of Cointreau. Decide chocolate is tastier than cough syrup.
7. Shape mixture into balls and put in really neat rows on a tray lined with baking paper.
8. Return to fridge. Put water back on to boil. Assemble double boiler arrangement again. Load with dark chocolate.
9. Rummage in cuttlery drawer for truffle baller, giggling. Truffle baller, guys. Truffle baller.
10. Dip your balls in the melted chocolate. Ponder the amazing nature of that last sentence.
11. Put the pudding balls back in the fridge to harden.
12. Tomorrow, which is Christmas Day for us, eat tiny reconstituted chocolate covered puddings.
(If you are feeling fancy, you can pipe white chocolate on the top to simulate brandy sauce, but I'm not that fancy. By which I mean I cannot melt white chocolate without it seizing.)