"We have heard first-rate authorities upon this subject assert, the late Dr. Kitchener and Mr. Douce were amongst the number, that plum pudding, the renowned English plum pudding, was a dish comparatively speaking of modern invention; and that plum porridge was its ancient representative. But this, for the honor of England, we never would allow, and always fought a hard battle upon the point. Brand indeed devotes a section of his observations on popular antiquities to 'Yule-doughs, mince-pies, Christmas-pies, and plum porridge,' omitting plum pudding, which new Christmas dish, or rather new name for an old Christmas dish, appears to have been introduced with the reign of the 'merry monarch,' Charles II. A revolution always creates a change in manners, fashions, tastes, and names; and our theory is that, among other changes, the 'hackin' of our ancestors was then baptized plum pudding. In Poor Robin's Almanack for 1676, it is observed of Christmas,--'Good cheer doth so abound as if all the world were made of minced-pies, plum pudding, and furmity.' And we might produce other quotations to show that, as the name 'hackin' fell into disuse about this period, it was generally supplanted by that of plum pudding."
Plum pudding is a truly national dish, and refuses to flourish out of England. It can obtain no footing in France. A Frenchman will dress like an Englishman, swear like an Englishman, and get drunk like an Englishman; but if you would offend him forever, compel him to eat plum pudding. A few of the leading restaurateurs, wishing to appear extraordinary, have _plomb-pooding_ upon their cartes; but in no instance is it ever ordered by a Frenchman. Everybody has heard the story of Saint Louis--Henri Quatre,--or whoever else it might be--who, wishing to regale the English ambassador on Christmas Day with a plum pudding, procured an excellent receipt for making one, which he gave to his cook with strict injunctions that it should be prepared with due attention to all particulars. The weight of the ingredients, the size of the copper, the quantity of water, the duration of time,--everything was attended to, except one trifle; the king forgot the cloth; and the pudding was served up like so much soup, in immense tureens, to the surprise of the ambassador, who was, however, too well-bred to express his astonishment.