Nothing says Sunday dinner at my Nan’s like Blueberry Pudding. It was there without fail every time. And it was gobbled by the whole lot of us at the end of every gathering. Drizzled in the sweetest, warmest “brown sauce” and occasionally topped with some Fussel’s canned cream (for those who are so inclined). To me, the pudding was home, and more “Newfoundland” than a feed of scrunchions or fish and chips I ever came across.