pudding pudding pudding pudding

When I was small I could safely be sent on my bicycle to the PYO strawberry fields across the other side of the Witham without fear of me guzzling too many, for strawberries and their resultant jam have always given me the boak. I've managed the odd one or two as part of a wedding-meal fruit-medley sort of dessert thing but never voluntarily eat them, whereas Edgar needs to be carefully monitored when at the allotment in case he stuffs himself with gastro-intestinally-risk-some quantities of soft fruits.