Thirteen days into December, and only 12 to go to the Big Day.
I’m looking forward to cooking our traditional dinner with all the trimmings, and working on roast potatoes without using my oven.
I have a plan, so we won’t go without.
I remember the first time I cooked roast potatoes, or tried to, and cried bitter tears of frustration when they didn’t do brown, let alone crispy. No such problem now when you consider you can buy them ready cooked and just have to put them in the oven, but the old-fashioned way (peeling, par boiling, draining, shaking to fluff them up then putting them in hot fat) still produces the best imo.
When I worked for the vending machine company, all staff were given a turkey for Christmas. It would be a generous sized bird, and I would cook it overnight Christmas Eve so that my oven was free for the rest of whatever I was cooking.
The two dogs would be sitting in front of the glass cooker door Christmas morning ‘watching TV’, and although I pushed the cooked bird back as far as I could on the worktop, my GSD still got the drumstick, but it was the rough collie that got caught with it stuck in his mouth like a pipe. I knew he hadn’t pinched it though because he couldn’t reach!
I remember Hubby chasing me up and down the aisle in a supermarket with a frozen turkey. We had the staff in fits of laughter as it broke the monotony of the Christmas shop.
I also remember the year he went out on his own and bought one but got a little confused. Instead of an 8 pound bird, he purchased a 8 kilo bird, and it only just fitted in my oven!
I proved to be quite inventive with turkey meals, but even he got fed up with them after a week. Luckily I froze a lot of the cooked meat so nothing was wasted.
We had visitors aboard today and were asked what our plans were for Christmas.
We got talking about the old days when we were growing up and how seasonal fruit and veg were at the time. We all remembered how Mums and Nans made stews or soups out of leftovers or whatever could be found in the cupboard.
A joint of meat is impractical for us, but I remember my Mum cooking a piece of beef for the Sunday roast, then Monday would be cold meat with bubble and squeak and pickles,
and Tuesday would see the remainder of the joint minced up with onions, diced carrots and mashed potatoes for a shepherd’s pie.
Ah, those were the days.