The Christmas Remix

Yesterday was fairly full on! I think I sat down for the first time around 6.30 – and then got up again as there was weary sighing and tutting from the cranberry sauce team about the fire not being lit and the table not being set yet. As I looked around the just wiped down kitchen and loaded warming drawers I may have raised an eyebrow. Lucky – I thought to myself – it is not a cleaver. Anyway, I laid the table and was mollified by the son and heir promising champagne.

The day had started swimmingly. Santa had delivered the stockings and Mum and I were first up to open ours. We sat in the quiet kitchen drinking coffee and munching on those Lindt bauble chocolates that you only see at Christmas. By the time anyone else emerged I had the turkey prepped, the stuffing balled and the pigs blanketed. Lyra stationed herself in the winter day bed next to the kitchen Island in case of droppage. Keith finally appeared bearing the enormous ham he managed to order thinking it was a small one. (It remains shrouded in mystery quite how this happened.). Things were going so well I decided to join the dog walking brigade after breakfast and leave Keith to pop in the turkey. I realised at this point that I probably should weigh the thing. Unfortunately it’s heft was more than the electric scales could bear so I had to resort to the jumbo balance scales. It then became apparent that we didn’t have enough weights. Well in the end the stuffed turkey came in at four pounds, two bags of jam sugar and a doorstop – which translated nicely to around five hours.

Plenty of time I thought. So we had a lovely walk round the loch deciding what we would do if we won the Eurogazillions rollover (for which we did not have a ticket). Mum lacked ambition with her suggestions, but Lachlan and I had a fleet of land rovers, a small island, a part time butler and stockman, a day hospital and a great deal of bespoke tailoring before we got back in the car. Back home it was present O’ Clock. Lyra enjoyed this hugely and whilst the lavender scented poo bags were a disappointment, the chicken feet and custard creams more than made up.

Returning to the kitchen I carefully eased the pudding cheesecakes from their tiny rings – which worked! Phew. But I do think someone out there should supply tiny spring loaded ones as it was a bit nerve racking. All I had left to do was veg and gravy, and over two hours in hand…So I decided to cure the new year’s salmon – yes of course I did (and if you fancy a go there’s a recipe here). Mum was hustled out to dig up beetroot. The beetroot are quite big Keith muttered, by way of warning. OK, I said, just bring three or four. Mum dropped the trug off in the porch announcing that only two were really useable as the carrot fly had struck. Well, I thought, I’ll do one half beetroot and the other dill and lemon and what have you (this year’s “what have you” is ginger and a bit of soy and Sichuan pepper). So I got on with making that cure then went for the beetroot. The hoooooge beetroot. Chopped, the two of them filled a huge roasting pan. I only managed to use half, so I’m scouting around for more beetroot recipes for the next few days. If nothing else strikes I might trot out the borscht. Anyway, having knocked up two cures, the search for dishes big enough commenced. I managed to fit one whole side in the fish kettle but couldn’t find anything big enough for the second – so I took an executive decision and cut off one tail end and made Cevice.

And thus was all the spare time used up. A frenzy of veg prep followed, some huffing and grumping, the aforesaid table laying, candle lighting and voilà. We had a lovely dinner, talked nonsense for a while, completely failed to work out how to zoom Ishbel (top tip, do this sober) and wandered off to bed.

Boxing Day has proceeded in accordance with time honoured ritual. Turkey sandwich for breakfast followed by faffing around in the kitchen by yours truly (preserving herbed feta). Keith got drill bits from Santa and has been reorienting the loo roll holder which has, it seems, been upside down for years. All is tranquil…..and there’s an excellent murder on the telly.