Apple and Blackberry Pudding | A Winter Story, Brambly Hedge

'Is that you, dear?' called Mrs Apple as he let himself in through the front door. Delicious smells wafted down from the kitchen. Mrs Apple had spent the afternoon baking pies, cakes and puddings for the cold days to come.
Winter Story, Brambly Hedge
Jill Barklem

I’m writing this entry while firmly wrapped in a blanket with a hot water bottle tucked up under my feet. It’s officially winter here and my favourite time of the year. There’s nothing better to me than walking home from work, headphones on and hood up, as the rain drizzles around me. I adore being able to spend my days inside with endless pots of tea and soft music filling the air. Being able to keep the balcony doors open as the rain pours down just outside, and that utterly lovely smell of fresh, clean rain spreads through the air.

Anyway, I really enjoy winter.

The Brambly Hedge books are a memory from my childhood that I think will always have a space in my mind. Growing up in the middle of the Australian bush, I remember wishing desperately that I could build a tiny home in a tree stump and have my days spent baking pies and jams for the native mice. Much like the mice within Brambly Hedge, stocking up a tiny larder for the colder months, with a fire warming the rooms.

Alas, I moved to a city, to a tiny apartment. Instead I’m spending my winter days making stews, soups and puddings to combat the cold. The below apple and blackberry pudding is one such, it’s got enough fruit that it feels somewhat healthy (…sure), while also being delicious. The recipe comes from Julia Busuttil Nishimura’s cookbook, A Year of Simple Family Food. I’ve changed the recipe slightly to be plant-based.

Apple and Blackberry Pudding
Ingredients
3 Granny Smith apples, peeled and cored
300g blackberries, frozen or fresh
1 tsp vanilla paste
1 lemon, zested and juiced
100g raw caster sugar
100g butter
50ml milk
2 tsp No Egg, mixed with 4 tbsp water
150g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
To Serve
1 tbsp melted butter
1 tbsp raw caster sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
Cream or ice cream

1. Preheat the oven to 190C, and grease a baking dish with butter.

2. Slice the cored and peeled apples thinly and place into a bowl along with the lemon juice and vanilla paste. Toss to combine, add in the blackberries and fill the prepared baking dish with the mixed fruit.

3. Cream the butter and sugar together in a bowl until pale and fluffy. Add in the no egg and water and mix together. Stir the milk in, and then add the lemon zest and flour, mixing until the batter is smooth.

4. Spread the batter over the fruit, smoothing it across. Bake for approx. 45 minutes or until the top is a golden brown.

5. 5 minutes before the pudding is ready to come out, combine the cinnamon and raw caster sugar together. When the pudding is done and removed from the oven brush the top with the melted butter and sprinkle the cinnamon sugar over the top. Serve with cream or ice cream. Enjoy!

Mulled Wine | Brambly Hedge

Mr Apple and Dusty Dogwood headed the procession, lanterns held high.
‘Roast the chestnuts, heat the wine,
‘Pass the cups along the line,
‘Gather round, the log burns bright,
‘It’s warm as toast inside tonight,’
‘Sang the mice as the log came into view.’
The Secret Staircase (Brambly Hedge)
Jill Barklem

My childhood was spent mainly in middle of the bush in country Victoria. The house I grew up in was surrounded by towering gum trees, with paths throughout them clotted with ferns, wattle trees and numerous rabbit, potoroo and bush mice holes that were waiting to trip someone up.

A childhood pastime was to construct tiny houses outside, beneath the overhanging moss on a garden path or within the hollow of a tree that I’d stumbled over. I still enjoy seeing such houses tucked away throughout Melbourne, where I now live. Neighbours whose children have created little faerie or gnome doors built into the sides of trees or bottle tops hanging from branches (so faeries can swing on them - as a young girl solemnly told me when she saw me admiring them).

Brambly Hedge was a children’s book that let my childhood imagine run wild with theories of how all the animals I saw were living when I wasn’t looking. And how apparently they were all incredible cooks. Rose jam? Oat cakes with rowanberry jam? Syllabub and three tiered wedding cakes? Yes please.

I was gifted a copy of The Complete Brambly Hedge for Christmas this year and with my recent page flick through it - my eyes landed very solidly on song above. More specifically - heat the wine. It’s winter in Melbourne, and it seems to just be rapidly getting colder with icy and biting mornings and nights abound. One speciality that Melbourne seems to do particularly well is mulled wine. Every bar appears cosy and inviting with the scent of cinnamon, oranges and various spices drifting out of the doorway. Promising warmth, comfort and a drink that, honestly, feels like a hug.

On the days when my wallet is low and it’s far too hard to put clothes on that aren’t pyjamas I’ve taken to perfecting my own mulled wine recipe. A lot of the stuff in it is quite interchangeable and it’s super fun to play around with the recipe and get a flavour that you really enjoy.

*Note: A fruity wine is best - but honestly, anything is going to taste pretty great when you cook ti with fruit and spices for ages. 

Mulled Wine
Serves approx. 12 cups
Ingredients
2 x bottle of red wine *see note
2 tsp fresh grated nutmeg
2 cinnamon sticks
10 star anise
2 tsp cloves
1 1/2 cup apple juice
1 apple, chopped into largish chunks
1 orange
1/2 cup brandy *optional

1. Using a sharp knife, very carefully cut away the zest of the orange until you have around 4-5 strips. The remainder of the orange can be sliced up thinly to be used in the wine later.

2. Place all the spices, the strips of orange zest and the apple juice into a large saucepan and heat on medium until lightly simmering.

3. Add in the chunks of apple, orange slices and both bottles of wine.

4. Leave it to remain on a medium heat - you don’t want it to burn. When the wine begins to simmer and the scent of the spices being to drift from the saucepan you’ll know its ready.

5. If you decide to pop some brandy in - do it around this point, and leave it to heat in the wine for another few minutes.

6. You can either strain all the wine into a new saucepan if you’re planning to have it all at once - or simply strain it off glass by glass (it doesn’t do it any harm with the spices remaining in it). Enjoy hot!