Lisa’s Letters Home: A Very Comforting Jam Roly Poly

There are quite a few traditional English desserts that I haven’t attempted to make yet and there are some that I’m convinced are named solely as a joke for tourists (“…and then the Americans will ask us for Spotted Dick! HAHAHAHA!”) I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the English do desserts very, very well.

There are desserts for teatime, desserts for birthdays and other celebrations, and desserts that remind people of their childhood. The latter are often referred to as nursery pudding; “afters”  that would have been served at schools during lunchtime. What I love about these desserts is that they are still served in school cafeterias today – often just as badly prepared as they were 40 years ago.

Even the names evoke comfort: blancmange, semolina pudding, bread and butter pudding, and steamed treacle pudding. They wobble, are full of stodge, and many were the result of wartime rationing and limited supplies. How else can you explain the motivation behind lining a bowl with stale bread and filling it with seasonal berries, then squashing it all down with a plate and a large tin?

In my quest to blend in with the locals, I’ve been trying out a few classic desserts (and also, I just really like cake. A lot.) Jam roly poly is such a jolly name for a pudding, I had to give it a go. It’s essentially pastry with jam in the middle, steamed in the oven, sliced and served with custard. It’s a school dinners staple, and my kids were very keen to test out the homemade version.

It seemed fairly easy to make, although lots of things seem like brilliant ideas when you’ve not had much sleep. I came across a jam roly poly recipe in one of my Nigella Lawson books that calls for store bought shortcrust pastry (i.e. unsweetened pastry like you’d use in a chicken pot pie), which you certainly could use in place of making your own. As I was sleep deprived and a little bit delirious, I opted for the recipe that called for homemade. You will need to find suet (either regular or vegetarian), which may prove tricky outside of the UK. Apparently you can find it in the freezer section of Canadian supermarkets or ex-pat shops. If you can’t find it, then just use the store bought pastry. Use the time you save to have an extra glass of wine or something.

Don’t be put off by the fact that it’s steamed and not baked. Somehow, you still get a crunchy, golden brown crust on it despite the steam. I don’t know how it works; it’s obviously some sort of British voodoo.

Serve it warm from the oven or at room temperature, with homemade custard or shop bought. It keeps well in lunchboxes, minus the custard. My kids gave it the thumbs up, with Jack remarking, “It’s way better than the one we get in school!”

Just a word of advice beforehand: be careful when you open the oven when it’s got the water-filled tin in it. Otherwise, you may get a face full of scalding hot steam – but on the plus side, it steam-cleans your oven. (No joke. It’s win-win.)