A Wish in the Batter: Starting Christmas Early at Mow Cop Inn

There is a point in mid-November when the hill starts to feel like it is holding its breath. The leaves are mostly off the trees, the wind has found its winter voice, and the last of the afternoon light disappears behind the chimney pots earlier each day. Inside Mow Cop Inn, though, something is already moving: bags of dried fruit on the prep bench, a jar of mixed peel, a bottle of stout set aside for the cause.

Stir-Up Sunday falls on 22 November in 2026. It is the Sunday before Advent, and for centuries it has been the traditional day for making Christmas pudding — the idea being that the whole household took a turn stirring the mixture and made a wish while doing so. At Mow Cop Inn, that old domestic ritual gets a pub-sized outing. The kitchen makes the house pudding, yes, but it does so with the door open and a spoon available to anyone who wants one.

What the Day Is Actually For

The name comes from the opening words of the Book of Common Prayer collect for the Sunday before Advent: "Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people." It was a cue for households to get the pudding steaming, and the phrase stuck. Long before Christmas adverts and office parties, this was the quiet start of the season — a morning of chopping, mixing and waiting, with a wish folded into the batter.

In a pub on a hill, the ritual makes a different kind of sense. Mow Cop Inn is a place where people already gather for reasons that are only partly about food. Stir-Up Sunday simply gives that gathering a shape. It is a chance to mark the turn of the year without tinsel, and to bring regulars, walkers and passing visitors into the same warm room for an hour or two.

The Hilltop Version

The pudding itself is a proper, old-fashioned affair. Vine fruits, currants and sultanas are soaked overnight — sometimes in ale, sometimes in something stronger — then mixed with suet, breadcrumbs, dark sugar, mixed peel, grated apple, treacle, citrus zest and a generous measure of spice. Eggs bind it. A little stout loosens it. The whole thing is packed into basins, covered, and steamed for hours until it is dark, dense and fragrant.

The kitchen at Mow Cop Inn does not rush this. The mixture is made in batches, but the method is the same one used in domestic kitchens for generations. The puddings are steamed, cooled, wrapped and stored in a cool pantry, where they will sit quietly until December, occasionally fed with a spoonful of brandy to keep them going.

What makes the hilltop version distinctive is the company. Regulars are invited to stir. Walkers who have come up from the canal or down from the folly are welcome to take a turn. Children get a go, usually with a bit of help and a lot of enthusiasm. The wooden spoon goes round, the mixture gets a stir, and the wish is made — silently, or not, depending on the person.

A Spoon for Everyone

The wishes are not written down. That is part of the point. Stir-Up Sunday is not a competition or a display; it is a small, shared act of anticipation. Someone stirs and thinks about a person they miss. Someone else stirs and thinks about a holiday, a job, a recovery, a quiet hope for the year ahead. The pudding does not need to know the details.

For the pub, the day has a practical rhythm. The kitchen is busy, but not frantic. There is tea and coffee on the go, and probably something warm from the oven for anyone who has made the climb. The fire is lit. The door opens and closes. People come in with mud on their boots and leave with flour on their sleeves.

It is a gentle sort of event, and that is deliberate. Mow Cop Inn is not the kind of place that turns a ritual into a performance. The aim is to let people take part, not to make them watch.

Steam, Store, Wait

Once the stirring is done, the puddings go into the steamer. This is the long, unglamorous part of the process: hours of gentle heat, a kitchen that smells of spice and citrus, and a lot of checking that the water has not run dry. The puddings are then cooled, wrapped and put away.

They will emerge again on Christmas Day, steamed once more and served with brandy butter, cream or custard. By then, the wishes will have had a month to settle. The pub will be decorated, the menu will have shifted towards roasts and warm puddings, and the hill will be properly in the grip of winter. But the Christmas pudding will have begun here, in November, with a wooden spoon and a room full of people taking turns.

Why Bother in November?

It would be easier to buy the puddings in. It would certainly be quicker. But Stir-Up Sunday is not really about efficiency. It is about making the season start somewhere, and giving people a reason to come together before the calendar gets crowded.

There is also something quietly satisfying about a pudding that has been made in advance. It sits in the pantry like a promise. Every time someone opens the door and sees the wrapped basins, they know Christmas is on its way. The waiting is part of the flavour.

Come and Stir

This year, Stir-Up Sunday at Mow Cop Inn will be marked on the morning of 22 November 2026. The kitchen will be making the house pudding, and there will be a spoon going round for anyone who wants to take a turn. No booking, no ceremony, no pressure. Just a warm room, a bowl of dark, fruity batter, and a wish to make before the decorations go up.

If you have never stirred a Christmas pudding before, this is a good place to start. If you have, you will know why it is worth the climb.