How to Make the Perfect Yorkshire Puddings (The Proper Yorkshire Way)
In Yorkshire, we don’t just make Yorkshire Puddings — we practically worship them. Done right, they’d earn their own Michelin Stars, a fan club, a Facebook page, a tv show and possibly a national holiday. Tall, golden, crisp on the outside, soft on the in… now that’s a Yorkshire Pud worth shouting about.
Despite our reputation for being tight, when it comes to puddings, Yorkshire folk are extremely generous. All we want is to help you make em properly — and then raise a pint in your honour while you do it.
What You Need
4 large eggs (not the chocolate ones left from Easter!).
250ml plain flour – We don’t need self-raising – we know how to do it proper.
250ml whole milk - Not the skimmed, semi skimmed, coconut, goat, camel, almond, beetle or any other kind of milk, other than whole and that from a cow.
½ teaspoon salt – We are not too precious about this – just not the stuff that goes on the road / sidewalk to stop you slippin’ in the winter and melts the snow and ice.
Beef dripping (non-negotiable). No other dripping will do. You cannot use goose fat, sunflower oil, rapeseed or even baby oil for that matter. No beef drippin – then you ain’t havin Yorkshire Puds.
Splash of Yorkshire ale – Theakston’s Old Peculier if you’re traditional, Black Sheep for classic, Timothy Taylor’s if you’re posh, Tetley’s for nostalgia, or Northern Monk if you’re feeling modern. Any will do beautifully.
How to Make ‘Em
Before you mix anything…
Crack open a bottle of that Yorkshire ale I mentioned and pour yourself a proper pint. Admire it, sniff it, and take a long mouthful. If anyone asks, swear it’s “research.” Keep supping through the cooking process but save a splash for the batter — we’re making puddings, not running the local pub quiz.
1. Heat your oven like it owes you money
220°C / 425°F / Gas 7.
If opening the oven door doesn’t hit you like walking into a Yorkshire pub with a fire hot enough to singe your eyebrows, turn it up. It ain’t ready.
2. Get your fat smoking —I mean the beef dripping, not your biceps in the gym!
Drop a spoonful of dripping into each tin (if making small but individual puds) and shove it back in the oven until it’s smoking hot. Not “warmish,” not “nearly.” If the smoke detector isn’t quivering with fear, it’s not reet. In the meantime, whilst that is happening….
3. Make the batter
Whisk eggs, flour, milk, and salt until smoother than a Barry White record on Valentines Day. Reach for that pint and pour a small splash of your ale into the mix. Not half a pint, just enough to say, “Aye, that’ll do lad.” With a further nod of approval from your pet Greyhound, whisk again and enjoy a further celebratory sip whilst the ale tickles your tastebuds.
Let the batter rest 20–30 minutes if you like. It is not mandatory but it looks professional and keeps curious visitors out of your kitchen. Thus, leaving you time for the remainder of your pint and the opportunity to check up on what’s happening on Last of the Summer Wine.
4. Pour and walk away
Carefully pour the batter into the smoking-hot fat. It should sizzle like a chip pan on Bonfire Night. Level fill each compartment, shove the tray back in, and… Shut the door!!! No, not the kitchen door, not the outside door or even the door to the chicken hut in your back garden. Shut the oven door and leave it shut.
Do not peek. Not even a sneaky glance. If you have a glass window to the oven – look through that. If not, you need one. As the puds grow in the heat, any cold air that comes in and reduces the temperature from a peek will flatten those puds faster than a tourist trying to say “Slaithwaite.”
Bake 20–25 minutes until tall, proud, and golden.
While We Wait…
Be brave — crack open another bottle of ale. That pint glass has earned a refill. Take it to your mat at the table and give it pride of place. Even Yorkshire puddings appreciate a proper audience when you bring them out.
Job Done. Proper Yorkshire Puds.
With that and dinner ready, the Yorkshire Puddings are the last thing to go on the plate. Open the oven, grab an oven mitt, marvel at your creations and with the help of a normal kitchen fork – dish em out. Take the plates with the meal you have lovingly mad through to your guests and gracefully accept their appreciation. Now sit down, raise your pint, and tuck in.
Congratulations and if anyone asks how you do it – say nowt! Its a secret and between thee and me and that it’ll stay.
After all, it’ll be reeyt!