Back when I was earning my wage as a cook at a co-ed fraternity house, I received a special dinner request from a few exchange students from Cambridge University: toad-in-the-hole, the classic British dish of sausages baked into a large Yorkshire pudding. Only problem? I had no idea what a Yorkshire pudding was. It was described to me as “sort of like a batter and you pour it into a pan and you bake it.” Rather than, say, doing some actual research, I decided to wing it.
Pudding, I thought to myself. That ought to be rich and moist and sort of spoonable like a custard, right?
I ended up with essentially that: sausages baked into a vast pool of eggy custard, their tops just poking through the surface, like a construction worker whos fallen into a vat of half-set concrete. (And the dish was just as heavy as it looked.)
The one good thing about cooking for a fraternity house is that college students will eat anything. Still, at the behest of the British students, I dove a little deeper and discovered that Yorkshire pudding is really nothing more than the British equivalent of the popovers that my mother loves. Sure, our popovers are baked in specialized tins and typically served sweet while Yorkshire puddings are served with beef drippings and gravy, but conceptually, theyre pretty much exactly the same.
This was well over a decade ago and Ive spent several months in northern England as well as many hours in the kitchen baking pudding after pudding since then.
Printed recipes for Yorkshire pudding go back as far as the mid-18th century, and the dish likely existed long before that. Its simple—almost primal—in its ingredients and process: Mix together milk, eggs, and flour with a pinch of salt to form a batter (“as for pancakes,” according to the 1937 cookbook The Whole Duty of a Woman), then pour the batter in a pan that has been greased with the drippings from a roast. Originally, that roast was mutton; these days, its more likely beef.
A Yorkshire pudding works on the same principle as a French pâte a choux, the thin pastry used to make cream puffs, Parisian-style gnocchi, and gougères. Those recipes all start with a high-moisture dough and rely on the power of steam to puff and rise into their light, crisp final forms. Yorkshire puddings and popovers take the same concept to the extreme, using a batter that is so moist that it pours out like cream and puffs up to at least quadruple its volume.
As with all simple recipes, Yorkshire pudding technique is steeped in rules designed to make you believe its a tricky, fickle food and that following the wrong recipe or wrong technique will lead to disastrous results.
After dozens of tests and hundreds of puddings, I have some good news for you: Its nearly impossible to mess up a Yorkshire pudding (despite the fact that I managed to back in my fraternity chef days). You can play with the ratio of ingredients every which way and still end up with a batter that rises tall. You can bake it in any type of pan youd like. You can rest the batter or bake it fresh. You can chill it or leave it out at room temperature. Heck, you can even break the cardinal rule of Yorkshire puddings and pour the batter directly into a cold tin. Break every one of these rules and your puddings will still puff and turn out light and crisp.
But of course, some puddings are lighter and crisper than others. I considered it my duty to investigate each and every rule and theory in the lore of Yorkshire pudding to figure out which ones rise to the top and which are simply puff pieces.
Yorkshire Pudding Theory #3: Rest the Batter at Least 30 Minutes
Delia, the arch-queen of modern British cookery, declares in her recipe: “There is no need to leave the batter to stand, so make it whenever its convenient.” Jamie Oliver agrees. His recipe has no rest at all (in fact, he doesnt even start making the batter until the tin is preheating in the oven). But Marco Pierre White, a Yorkshireman (as if that really matters), advises letting your batter rest for at least an hour.
When authorities disagree, its time to appeal to science. I made a half dozen batches of pudding batter, the first a full six hours before the last, then baked them all side by side in the same oven. Amazingly, there was a direct correlation between how long the batter had rested and how tall the puddings rose. You could tell exactly how old a batter was simply by holding a ruler up next to the baked pudding!
Just to be sure of my results, I repeated the test, this time taking it up to a full day of resting before baking. Here are the results:
Let me show that to you again, outside of the tin:
Im going to say this: Resting your batter is the single most important step you can take to improving Yorkshire pudding and popovers. Not only do they come out taller, but they also come out much tastier, with a more complex, toasty flavor. Non-rested-batter puddings taste positively flat (literally and figuratively) next to rested-batter puddings.
In my exploration of chocolate chip cookies a few years ago, I found a similar advantage to resting cookie dough. According to Harold McGees Keys to Good Cooking, it comes down to the breakdown of proteins and starches over the course of the overnight rest. Heres an excerpt of my explanation in cookies, which applies to puddings as well:
Resting makes a big difference in the interior texture as well. With little gluten development, the interior of a Yorkshire pudding baked right after forming the batter is almost cake-like, with small bubbles and not much stretchiness. A pudding baked after an overnight rest has a stretchy texture with large bubbles inside. In most cases, youll end up with the ideal case: a Yorkshire pudding that is essentially one large bubble in the center. Perfect for holding gravy and drippings.
The stretchier interior also accentuates that wonderful contrast with the crisp outer shell.
Verdict: True. In fact, Id go so far as to say that resting at least overnight is essential if you are really after the best.
Oven Temperature
Hot enough to cause intense rising, not so hot that the exterior burns too fast is the way to go. 450°F (230°C) is ideal. No convection. Some folks recommend turning the oven down towards the end of cooking to allow you to leave the puddings in the oven longer, thereby setting their exteriors more firmly so that they dont deflate as much once you pull them out. I recommend that those folks just learn how to eat their puddings in a more timely manner.
Easy Yorkshire Pudding Recipe
FAQ
How long does it take to cook a Yorkshire?
How do you tell if a Yorkshire pudding is cooked?
How long should you leave Yorkshire pudding batter?
Should Yorkshire batter be thick or runny?
How do you bake a Yorkshire pudding?
The process of baking Yorkshire puddings is a little more involved than something like a cake: Preheat your oven to a high temperature, drop a little fat into the bottom of each hole in the muffin tray, and put it in the oven to get the fat nice and hot. Pull the tray out of the oven and, working quickly, pour in the batter.
How do you cook a Yorkie in the oven?
They’re typically made with melted butter or sometimes vegetable oil. For a Yorkie to rise successfully the water in the batter needs to be quickly heated to the point that it becomes steam. There are several things you can do to make sure this happens: Thoroughly heat your oven to 425°F or higher (220°C), giving it at least half an hour.
Do Yorkshire puddings need to be hot before cooking?
The single most important thing to remember about yorkshire puddings is that the fat must be smoking hot before you begin cooking – you need a good sizzle as batter hits dripping. Canadian cook Susan Sampson suggests piercing the puddings as they leave the oven to let the steam out and keep them crisp, but all this seems to do is let them get cold.
When should you make Yorkshire pudding?
Mort Tibble suggests preparing the mixture the evening before, and having it ready while the roast beef is cooking. Be sure to allow the batter to come up to room temperature. “When you make Yorkshire pudding, the timing has to be juuuuust right,” says Mort.