'Tis the season to be a foodie...

'Tis the season to be a foodie...

I have always been, and always will be a keen cook. And at Christmas I love to cook (and eat) more than any other time of the year. Not because Christmas dinner has all that many good memories. When I was growing up I rarely got to spend Christmas with my parents. And when I got older everything running up to Christmas was always wonderful, but Christmas Day itself was spent listening to my dad snoring while we ate in front of the telly. It really is down to the shallow fact that I love all the components of a Christmas dinner but rarely do I allow myself to eat them all together. I'm a one protein, one carb, loadsa veg kinda girl.. often in large quantities, but nevertheless in those proportions. So the idea of two, or sometimes three kinds of meat, plus potatoes and all the rest is an annual treat. I'm also very stingy with the butter most days, but not at Christmas. For the next few days I shall place all thoughts responsible for arousing guilt in a little box and bury them some where behind my appetite because its ok to do so at Christmas.

Its also the time of year when my mum excels herself. Using my grandmother's recipe she makes the world's greatest turkey. Slow cooked and stuffed with sausage meat and almonds, nothing dries out. My mum has always been an experimental cook and as every scientist will tell you, some experiments work and some do not. But when she gets it right, boy-o-boy does she get it right.

Then there's the snacking. I love me some mince pies, chocolate boxes and those little cheesy fish. It's also the time of year to consume as many crackers as you possibly can. And smoked salmon. When I was younger we used to buy it by the shed load because of a friend who frequented Billingsgate Market and always found it cheap. This year, with a fairly inferior grade, I'm making Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon for breakfast. Weird you might think, but it has become tradition in my house to have Christmas dinner in the evening because it was the one day a year my exhausted parents could have a proper lie-in at home.

So what's on the menu for our post-Queen's Speech Fest-a-thon?

Mum's Turkey ; Inc. Almond and pork stuffing and rashers of bacon

Hit and miss 'Crispy' roast potatoes

Jamie Oliver inspired root veg mash

Yorkshire puddings and/or pancakes

Gravy

Boiled (but not over done) red cabbage

Some sprouts in a little bowel for my mum. Next to her plate. For her consumption. And her's alone. While we have to listen to her make 'mmmmmm' noises and emphasise the word 'Gorgeous' over and over again before telling us how good they are for us.


And a Panettone bread and butter pudding for dessert, so light and fluffy its enough to piss off even the most liberal euro-sceptic.

But the best bit of any Christmas dinner is the left-overs. There is nothing quite like a cold turkey sandwich with stuffing and chutney... I can't wait for Boxing Day.

P.s. You may have noticed a lack of religious sentiment in my Christmas posts. Whenever Jesus may have been born be it 25/12/00 or earlier that year, he deserves my respect as an important historical figure, philosopher and revolutionary. However, as an agnostic I feel no spiritual connection to Christmas. I was Christened and raised Greek Orthodox, and much like my enormous thighs and the over-whelming need to gossip, it is still a part of my cultural identity. Growing up in the UK has also lent a hand to the forming of said identity, perpetuating the tradition further. And besides, in multicultural Britain you don't have to be Christian to celebrate Christmas. The pagans have always partied this time of year long before Christianity was established. Its a time to be happy, share that joy with others and shun the dark winter blues. I'll eat, drink and be merry with those who do believe (and those who don't) that Jesus was born to a virgin in a stable on the 25^th December and attempt to keep my borderline Atheist thoughts to myself, before people decide to have a No-Armadillo, as opposed to a No-God, Christmas... Until New Year... I promise... As if Christmas isn't a heathen holiday any how, the first 500 words of this 'Christmas' post have been about food for 'The Birthday Boy's' sake! … Wait, that doesn't count... Yeah, doesn't count until Saturday morning... let's say. Don't really have any logic behind that, but there you go. I may or may not be going to hell. I'm not really at liberty to say...