“I thought Yorkshire pudding was that stuff you pour brandy over and set on fire,” said Tristan.
Brian just shook his head. The cell phone in his hand was quiet for a moment. “Brian? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here. You’re thinking of a Christmas pudding. Yorkshire pudding is this kind of puffy doughy bread. My mother cooks hers in a cast iron frying pan. We usually have it with gravy on top. Christmas pudding is just plain nasty. My parents like it. I think the stuff ranks up there with fruitcake, as having better uses as a doorstop.”
“So your friends, Diane and Kevin, are having a pretty traditional American Christmas dinner?”
“Unfortunately. What time do you think you’ll manage to skate out of work?” Brian asked.
Tristan was working tomorrow, a.k.a. Christmas day. He wa
