Bread pudding has always been a dish with a story. Centuries ago, it was born out of resourcefulness — a way to use up stale bread by soaking it in milk, eggs, and spices. Families called it “poor man’s pudding,” but over time it became so much more: a dessert that carried warmth, comfort, and tradition across generations.

Every culture gave it its own flavour — rich with spice in Britain, bold with rum in the Caribbean, sweet with sauces in New Orleans. Wherever it was made, bread pudding had a way of feeling like home.

For me, it will always mean my Grandad Terry Turley. It was his favourite, and he was my most loyal taste tester. Every bake was met with a grin, a nod, and a "Thank you, Sweetheart". Now, each time I make it, I feel that same comfort, that same connection — as though history and memory are baked right into the tin.

Bread pudding may have begun as a humble dish, but in my kitchen, it will always be a legacy of love.