Stirring Toward Christmas: A November Pudding Ritual in Wargrave

On the morning of Sunday 22 November 2026, the kitchen at The Bull will smell of cinnamon, citrus peel and something older than any of us: the ritual of making a Christmas pudding a year before anyone eats it.

Stir-Up Sunday takes its name from the Book of Common Prayer, but the habit is older than the phrase. Traditionally it falls on the last Sunday before Advent, when families stirred the pudding and made a wish. At The Bull, we have kept the habit because a village pub should have at least one job that cannot be rushed.

Why Bother With a Year?

A Christmas pudding is not a last-minute dish. It needs time for the fruit to drink, the spices to settle and the crumb to darken. You can make one in December, of course. People do. But a pudding made in November has a head start on Christmas. It sits in its basin like a small, dark promise.

There is also the matter of optimism. A pub that steams a pudding a year ahead is saying, quietly, that it plans to be here next Christmas. In a village like Wargrave, where the river does its own slow thing and the seasons are marked by the path, the ferry and the first properly cold pint, that kind of planning feels right.

From Dried Fruit to Steamer

The process is not glamorous. It is bowls, scales, parchment and a very large pot. Currants, raisins, sultanas and candied peel go into a big mixing bowl. Suet, breadcrumbs, brown sugar, mixed spice and a grating of nutmeg follow. Eggs bind it. A glug of stout or ale loosens it. Then comes the stirring.

Stir-Up Sunday is supposed to be a shared job. Everyone in the household takes a turn, wooden spoon in hand, and makes a wish. At The Bull, we will do the same in the kitchen. It is not a performance. It is a habit. The mixture goes into buttered basins, gets covered with parchment and foil, and then steams for hours. The kitchen fills with a warm, fruity fog. Nobody complains.

Afterwards, the puddings are cooled, wrapped and put away in a cool, dark place. They will wait there through Advent, through the office parties and the last-minute shopping, until Christmas Day, when they will be steamed again and carried to the table.

The Kitchen Practicalities

Steaming a pudding is a lesson in patience. You need a pot large enough to hold the basin, a trivet or a folded cloth to keep it off the base, and a kettle on standby. The water needs topping up. The lid needs to stay on. The kitchen gets hot. It is not the sort of thing you do in a hurry, which is precisely why we like it.

There is also the small matter of storage. A pudding needs to be kept somewhere cool and dry, away from damp and heat. It does not need to be fussed over. It needs to be left alone. That is harder than it sounds in a busy pub.

An Invitation to the Village

This year, we are opening the kitchen for a Stir-Up Sunday session. Come and stir the mixture, make a wish, and watch the puddings go into the steamer. It is a chance to see how the Christmas menu begins long before the first roast potato hits the tray. Keep an eye on our What's On page for timings, but the spirit of the thing is simple: turn up, take a turn with the spoon, and leave a little bit of luck in the bowl.

What Home Cooks Can Borrow

You do not need a pub kitchen to make a Christmas pudding. You need a basin, a large pot and a free afternoon. Start with a reliable recipe, weigh everything properly, and do not rush the steaming. Make a wish when you stir. Then wrap it up and forget about it until December. The waiting is not a delay. It is the point.

On 22 November, The Bull will smell of spice and steam and the quiet satisfaction of a job done early. That is Stir-Up Sunday in Wargrave. A year in a basin, and then a proper pudding.