With the big day getting closer, our columnist is getting in training for a well-timed trolley dash for the Christmas shop, as she’s planning a traditional dinner this year.
• FROM here on in, it’s all about the festive food. Well that, and catching up with family and friends, attending all the various nativities and shows the young people in your life are involved in, taking care of Secret Santa for the whole family (and remembering to act surprised when it comes to the exchange), keeping track of the Christmas jumper days, the carol services, trying to get the lopsided tree to stay straight ... and yes, also the festive food.
I love nothing more than poring over all the food supplements that come with the newspapers, but I’m equal parts delighted and appalled by the recipes because I’m very traditional when it comes to the seasonal grub. I rarely, if ever, stray from the tried and tested and some things are absolutely sacrosanct in our household and cannot be interfered with. Stuffing is top of that list. For the life of me, I’ll never understand anyone who puts apricots or even an orange in their stuffing. Such nonsense (bet they’re the same ones who put raisins in their curry)!
I won’t even tolerate celery, and it has to be sausage meat all the way. As for those who interfere with the Brussel sprouts by adding chorizo or chestnuts? Back off dude! What’s wrong with sticking to the way they’ve been served for generations: boiling them for three solid hours and serving them tepid? Exactly.
• Now that I think about it, most of my favourite Christmas traditions come from food. I even love ‘The Big Christmas Shop’. The timing of the shop is crucial: do it too early and you’ll risk depleting your stocks a bit too soon (the crisps are especially vulnerable to attack); leave it too late, and you risk missing all the good stuff, like a parking spot within two miles of the store, so there’s a bit of work involved in the logistics. I like to go at the crack of dawn, the day before Christmas Eve. It’s a popular time slot for hassled middle-aged folk, so you have to be ruthless to get around in one piece: make no eye contact with fellow shoppers in case you lose time chatting, or if a dash is needed to get the last box of USA biscuits and no deviating from the list (except to get extra cheese and cream, because every culinary disaster can be rescued with cheese or cream).
• Gloves are advised for that extra firm grip on the trolley and for god’s sake don’t forget the ‘bags for life’. Of course, there will always be that extra, absolutely final shop the next day for more bread and milk (yes, you know the shops are open the day after St Stephen’s Day, but it helps you sleep easier at night) and that can be a more leisurely affair.
No gloves needed.
•Speaking of Christmas Eve, we never have a ‘proper’ fork dinner this day. It was a tradition that my mum had in her house, too, and now I’ve carried it on (and I’m thinking of extending it to various other days in the calendar year too!).
I used to think it was to build up an appetite for the next day but now that I’m an adult I realise it’s because it would be the meal that would tip you over the edge.
Instead we have a bowl of soup and spiced beef sandwiches and it’s actually one of the most exciting meals of the year with all that anticipation lying ahead, and all the lovely smells percolating around you.
I’m a bit late to the spiced beef appreciation party: until a few years ago I had to leave the house when it was being boiled as the smell would have me gagging, but now I quite enjoy a slice or two, but never three.
• Getting back to that slightly mad idea of ‘building up’ an appetite for the Christmas dinner, I don’t understand why you’d have a cooked breakfast that morning. You’re under pressure from the off!
You have to be smart, and that includes choosing your starter wisely. One year we had soup, and it nearly killed us. Not the soup, that was delicious, but trying to get through the main event afterwards was a challenge and the poor trifle remained untouched.
Now, we stick to a retro prawn cocktail or my sister’s legendary crab bake that is so good, every year we declare we’d be more than happy to have it on its own (or with some stuffing). I think I’ll get someone to sign something this year to that effect, and save us a whole lot of work for next year.
• Normally it’s a case of ‘go big or go home’ but at this time of the year it’s all about going small: think mini sausage rolls, mini quiches, mini vol au vents, mini meringues etc. I don’t know where the ‘mini’ obsession originated but I love it. At the time of writing I think I’ve at least 1,500 teeny tiny little sausage rolls ready to go in my freezer! Almost too cute to eat.
Then there’s the party food, which is a modern concept that crept in somewhere in the noughties. Even if we’re not throwing a party I always have a compulsion to stock up on odd things like spring rolls, breaded mozzarella, brie and cranberry tartlets and pigs in blankets.
Generally they get forgotten about in the mix of things in the freezer, and they end up being served for tea on a random Tuesday in February and you remind yourself not to bother with them next year (but you know you will!).
• Finally, I was intrigued to read an article where UK chef Marco Pierre White instructed how to cook the entire Christmas dinner in the air fryer in 90 minutes. Now, where’s the fun in that? Christmas wouldn’t be the same without a ‘mini’ meltdown in the kitchen and the five hours spent washing up. Some parting advice: two types of potatoes are enough but don’t scrimp on the gravy or stuffing; don’t bother buying more cranberry sauce, just serve last year’s because no one ever eats it; don’t go berserk if the kids don’t eat anything and go straight to the selection boxes and when the going gets tough, remember everything tastes nicer on St Stephen’s Day when the pressure is off and the dress code will be your Christmas onesie!
