By Keighley’s Mike Armstrong, an award-winning master baker with a big passion for baking. See facebook.com/bakermike001

IF I had a pound for every person who's told me they hated rice pudding, I'd be a rich man.

It might be the most hated dessert in Britain, which we tend to blame on what was served-up with our school dinners: bland and over-sweetened, served from battered metal containers – with that being many kids' first dalliance with rice pudding it was understandably also their last.

But rice pudding is nothing without a good dollop of jam stirred in for an injection of childhood 'safe and warm' feeling.

Once upon a time, the humble rice pudding was a very grand dish indeed. In medieval Europe, in the kitchens of kings and queens, rice was a rare and expensive ingredient which was kept locked in the spice cupboard along with other imported culinary jewels.

In those times, the word 'Ambrosia' was apt; it meant ''food of the Gods'', not tinned for sale in a corner shop near you.

And because it's a staple, that doesn't make it dull or boring. Far from it, it's the star of the show and feeds half the world's population, making it our single most imported source of energy.

Hardly surprising, then, that rice is associated with all kinds of traditions. Throwing rice at the bride and groom was thought to bring fertility, wealth and good luck to newlyweds. Other customs see the Chinese greeting, instead of "how are you?'', ''have you had rice today?''. Rice is the first food a new Indian bride offers her husband. An Indonesian woman is not ready for marriage if she doesn't know how to cook rice.

For me, rice pudding has to be the baked version – having that old-fashioned caramel flavour about it, from the long two-hour bake. I can never tire of waiting for it to be ready, teasing the house with cosy, warming nutmeg aromas. It's best eaten in front of the fire while watching the telly, with an episode of your favourite box set, when the table is cleared and the dishwasher is doing its job.

Finally, there's the controversy of the skin. Does anyone really, honestly hate the skin? There's only one right answer here, I'm afraid: rice pudding is not rice pudding without the skin! A Yorkshire phrase comes to mind here as I type ''couldn't knock the skin off a rice pudding'', could we. Nay lad, Yorkshire folks are not weaklings, and throwing good rice at the bride and groom is a waste of good money!

RECIPE

LUXURY HOMEMADE RICE PUDDING

Serves 4

Ingredients:

100g/3 1/2oz pudding rice, available in any supermarket

700ml/25fl oz semi-skimmed milk

150ml/ 4fl oz double cream, optional, just subtract the weight from the milk

50g/2oz caster sugar

One whole nutmeg grated or grated from the jar

25g/1 oz butter

4 good tablespoons of raspberry jam to serve

Method:

1. Preheat the oven to 160C/140C fan, Gas Mark 2.

2. Rub the butter around the inside of a large round ovenproof dish.

3. Wash the rice in a sieve under the cold water tap.

4. Add the rice to the dish along with the milk, cream and sugar and stir thoroughly through.

5. Grate a whole nutmeg over the surface (it might sound a lot but it needs it and it makes great skin).

6. Cook for 2 hours in the middle of the oven, but cover with foil if you don't like a lot of skin, before serving piping hot from the oven with a good dollop of raspberry jam.