So Sunday was officially Yorkshire Pudding Day this week, unlike most other Sundays when people eat Yorkshire Puddings with their Sunday roast and it's just called Sunday. A completely new made up day, but an excuse to eat one of the finest things in the world, so all is good. Yorkshire Puddings remind me of going to my Grandma's when I was young. I think it was on Boxing Day each year we used to go round to her house and had Yorkshire puddings, not with the main meal of Roast Beef, but as a starter on it's own with really thin watery gravy, made only from the juice off the roast. We used to love it. The pudding itself was different too, well not a different mix, just a different shape, she used to make just one enormous flat one in something like a baking tray. Apparently this is the traditional method: "It was originally flatter than today's version, and was cooked in a tin beneath meat which was being roasted on a spit over a fire so it could catch all the drippings from the meat. In early days, this was as much out of necessity as ...