Mrs. Rookley's Christmas Pudding

Our friend from Queensland mailed over a heap of goodies from her organic farm yesterday. Included in the care package were some ginger, a string of garlic to help us with our vampire problem:

See? Literally a string of garlic...haven't seen anything like this since I went to China.

and a massive Christmas cake that you can, apparently, learn to make up at her place: Conondale, QLD. Anyway, I had a go at the cake [since Dad finished off the Chocolate Cake from Sisi's bakery workplace and I'm not really one for raw garlic or ginger] and HOMG.

It was quite good.

May'nt look like much but this mofo was heavy! As it should be. ;)

I've never really been one for sweet things. Chocolate either. I get sick from all that sugary goodness. And, honestly, ever since I volunteered [I'd call it more 'compulsory benevolent work'] for the Friends of Romania [sic - sorry, my traumatised mind has obliterated it from memory] Cake Bake at Trinity College and had to crack/whip innumerable eggs, mix tonnes of butter and sugar, wash countless loads of disgusting, greasy, used cake tins in soapy, hot water with all the dredges and crumbs of past cakes languishing at the bottom, wheel cake-laden trays in and out each morning, wrap all those heavy, brown bastards all afternoon...

I haven't eaten Christmas cake since.

This, however, was freaking amazing stuff for the stomach. Sultanas, figs, eggs, loads of sugar and butter...so rich, so tasty and so addictive. This is what Christmas cake should be. Heavy and wonderful, not that cheap, light crap left over from the previous year that they sell in supermarkets.

That's half of it gone. :(

I hope that there's still some left come the Big Day.