Date Pudding — The Sweetness You Pack When Words Won’t Travel

I got a phone call this week that I have been expecting for years and dreading for longer. My brother Clarence. Clarence Williams, the fifth of the six Williams children, the one who smoked two packs a day for forty years and then quit and then started again and then quit again, and who always said, "Dot, the Lord's going to take me when He's ready and not a minute before," as if the Lord and the Surgeon General had different opinions about tobacco.

Lung cancer. Stage three. The doctor in Charleston found it during a routine chest X-ray — routine because Clarence has had a cough since October that he attributed to "the weather" and that his wife Louise attributed to "the cigarettes you said you quit." Clarence is seventy-two. He has been my brother for seventy years. He taught me to ride a bicycle. He carried me on his shoulders at the county fair. He was the one who found Willie James's shoes by the river the day Willie James drowned, and he has never talked about that day, not once, not in sixty-one years.

I called him. "Clarence," I said. "I heard." He said, "Dot, don't start." I said, "Clarence, I'm not starting. I'm asking: what do you need?" He was quiet. Clarence is always quiet before he says something real. Then he said, "I need you to make me some oxtails." That's Clarence. Dying, and what he wants is the food. What he wants is the taste of Hattie Pearl's kitchen, the taste of the shotgun house, the taste of being ten years old and the food was the only good thing and the food was enough.

I made the oxtails. I packed them in a container with rice and gravy and a piece of cornbread and I gave them to Denise, who will drive them to Charleston this weekend. The oxtails are not medicine. The oxtails will not cure lung cancer. But the oxtails will taste like our mother and our childhood and the kitchen where six children sat at a table and ate what Hattie Pearl made and didn't know yet how much they would lose and how much they would carry.

Of the six Williams children: Willie James, drowned at twelve. James Jr., prostate cancer. Bernice, stroke. And now Clarence. If Clarence dies, it will be me and Ruthie Mae. Two of six. The sister who cooks and the sister who forgets. That is what remains of the Williams family of Savannah, Georgia: a woman who remembers everything and a woman who remembers nothing, and between them, a pot of oxtails that tastes like home.

Now go on and feed somebody.

I have been making Hattie Pearl’s oxtails my whole life, and I know every step by heart — but when Denise drove those containers down to Charleston I sent something sweet alongside, because Clarence always had a sweet tooth that our mother indulged more than she should have. This date pudding is the kind of thing that comes from a kitchen where nothing is wasted and everything is made with intention: dates that keep, sugar that stretches, warmth that travels. You make it when the oxtails are packed and gone and the house is quiet and you need to do one more thing with your hands before you sit down and feel it all.

Date Pudding

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 9

Ingredients

• 1 cup pitted Medjool dates, roughly chopped
• 1 cup boiling water
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
• 3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon fine salt
• For the toffee sauce:
• 1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
• Pinch of salt

Instructions

1. Soften the dates. Place chopped dates in a small bowl. Pour boiling water over them, stir in baking soda, and let soak for 10 minutes. The soda softens the dates and deepens their caramel flavor. Do not drain.
2. Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease an 8×8-inch baking pan and set aside.
3. Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat softened butter and brown sugar together until light and combined, about 2 minutes. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition. Stir in vanilla.
4. Combine dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt.
5. Bring the batter together. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and stir gently until just combined. Fold in the date-water mixture, including all the liquid — the batter will be loose and that is correct.
6. Bake. Pour batter into the prepared pan and bake for 40–45 minutes, until the top is set and deep golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
7. Make the toffee sauce. While the pudding bakes, combine brown sugar, heavy cream, butter, and salt in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir constantly until butter melts and sugar dissolves. Bring to a gentle boil and cook 2–3 minutes until slightly thickened. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla.
8. Serve warm. Cut pudding into squares and spoon warm toffee sauce generously over each piece. Serve immediately, or store pudding and sauce separately and reheat gently before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 54g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 210mg