I finally took down the tree and other Christmas decorations today. I would have liked to do it last weekend but we were still celebrating at that point and had no time. Anyway, it used to be a tradition in my family to keep the decorations up until Kings Day, which also happens to be my sister's birthday, so why don't we just say that I was following the tradition, rather than admitting that I couldn't find the time or energy.
I was really itching to take the decorations down this time, which is kind of strange, since I really love the atmosphere of the living room with the tree there. But, for one, I wanted to just be back to normal, and for two, I wanted to see my new mantle clock (a Christmas present from Tobias) without the garland on the mantle crowding it. It looks just lovely (aside: I must stop using that word. The combination of having the Hot English Lover visiting downstairs for the past three weeks and rereading all the Nancy Mitford novels has caused my speech patterns to become even more Britonesque than usual. And no one needs that.).
Even though I didn't have any official holidays in December, what with all the stat holidays falling on weekends, and what with the corporate holidays specific to my company being so generous, I only found myself at work two days between the 23rd or December and the 4th of January. Quite nice.
Holiday Eats
I mentioned that we had four parties but I didn't say what they were. Now I shall. On Christmas Day, we hosted the big dinner, with my mom, the Hot English Lover, my in-laws, my sister, and Tobias' grandmother. I managed to pull it off without being chained to the kitchen all day, thank goodness. In the morning we opened presents, and then my mom hosted a brunch for her friends, which we attended, downstairs. I didn't start working on dinner until after one o'clock, and even then, I went about the preparations rather lazily.
Part of what made it relatively easy was that Tobias took responsibility for the yams and the salad. He is becoming an awesome salad maker, which, in our house, means that he makes a great balsamic dressing and tosses the leaves well. The yams were also a major success; probably the most popular dish.
That left me to make the goose, the gravy, the brussels and chestnuts, and the potatoes. Oh, and a pomegranate pavlova for dessert. It was all pretty easy, and pretty darn delicious. The gravy nearly turned out badly but my sister Randal rescued it at the eleventh hour and it was a success.
I made goose two years ago for Christmas, but I didn't do the drying-out step ahead of time that is so crucial to getting a crispy skin. This year I had the bird drying for almost twenty-four hours and the skin was perfect. I also made sure I took it out of the oven earlier rather than later, since goose can get awfully tough and dry when overcooked.
Despite loving the goose, though, I don't think I'll do it again. The reason is purely monetary. My fifty bucks would get me a lot more actual meat if I spent it on a turkey. Geese are large, but a lot of the volume is taken up with fat and bones. Course the fat is a wonderful thing to keep in the fridge for a few weeks (or, I confess, months) for frying things in. But think how many hot turkey sandwiches I could have enjoyed in the days following Christmas if I'd gone that route!
So, 2005 = turkey year. But who knows? If things go as planned, I could be in the hospital having a baby next Christmas, and then Tobias has threatened to make pork tenderloin.
So that was Christmas. Christmas Eve we spent at my in-laws, with the traditional visit from a cheery fellow my mom refers to simply as El Hombre. Sahsez was adamant about not sitting in his lap this year, which was a bit weird until she explained that he looked totally different than he had a week before at school. Then I couldn't blame her for being a bit wary. We'll have to think about that problem this year and see if something can't be done to reduce it. Short of Tobias actually dying his eyebrows black and gaining fifty pounds, of course.
Marg made her traditional Norwegian Christmas meal: pork rib roast, AKA ribbe. The key to this dish, as you'll know if you followed that link, is the crispy and chewy, fatty top of the roast, which may sound a little gross -- indeed, first-timers are generally alarmed -- but let me tell you I start looking forward to that crackling in November. And also the caraway-studded homemade sauerkraut she serves with it. Boxing Day we were again at Marg and Brandy's, chowing down on turkey and roast beef. Then, on the 27th, we hosted a literary event: Greek-style dinner and discussion of the book Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Bernieres.
For this I made a leg of lamb and nothing else. Gotta love potlucks. Everyone else took care of the roasted potatoes with Greeky herbs, dolmades, spanakopita, baked fava beans, stuffed eggplant and Greek salad. And my heavens was it ever delicious. When you do a potluck right, by which I mean you invite the right people, you end up with a perfectly formed dinner in which every single dish has been given someone's undivided attention. You definitely do need the right people though. I've been to so many of these events where nearly everyone has brought chips or a cake.
I panicked slightly when I realized we had no dessert, but took a page from Nigel Slater's book and simply arranged some of massive store of chocolate - including, to my glee, opera rolls, courtesy of Marg - on a big platter and plonked it down for everyone to pick at. Needless to say, it all got eaten.
Two nights later, I got home around 7pm after working all day and then going to Tae Kwon-Do, to a small but lovely dinner party already in progress. Tobias had invited two friends, whose wedding in USA at the Labour Day weekend was my only international travel this year, to a late (for us) dinner and drinks.
Considering how little practice he gets - I generally hog the kitchen at least 3330 days a year - he is getting surprisingly good at getting a nice dinner together. For the Americans, he made chicken lasagne and salad. Simple and wonderful.
My only contribution to the dinner was the hot chocolate we had after dessert. During one of our many holiday food discussions, Tobias came up with the idea to serve hot chocolate laced with peppermint schnapps. Now I'm sure this isn't original, though I'm not going to Google it to find out just how unoriginal. The point is that he came up with it himself, and that was pretty smart.
Course, good-sounding ideas don't always come out right, especially in the kitchen. But I decided to use the Americans as guinea pigs, nonetheless. If the hot chocolate was gross, well, they're going back to Portland the next day anyway, so who cares?
It wasn't gross, it was heaven. I kept the schnapps/cocoa ratio pretty low, not sure what the flavour impact would be, but I'm willing to bet that it could easily be upped to one shot per serving (I did 1/2 - 2/3 of a shot per serving). It helped that I used some Bernaud Callebaut cocoa that secarr gave me for Christmas. I'll never go back to Fry's.
Damn, I really feel like a peppermint hot chocolate now. I'm going to type faster. Oh, and incidentally, I also tried a nonalcoholic version of this for the under-six crowd, and it was good too. I just tossed about half a candy cane into the milk as I warmed it, but before adding the cocoa and sugar. Sahsez loved it.
So where were we? Oh yes, the fourth and last and best party of all: New Year's Eve! We threw a small appies potluck/dance-till-you-drop/skittles showdown here and rung in the New Year with a dozen of our dearest friends. The food was again, wonderful, though I can't remember what I made. Oh, just remembered: slightly marinated green bean bundles wrapped in Westphalia ham, and some gouda. The ham and the cheese were both Christmas gifts from my dad and Pink, who know us very well indeed.
The highlight of the party for me was Sahsez' participation in the dancing. We all danced in a circle, and she danced in the middle. As she can be extremely shy at times, this was a real event, and a great joy for me. She ripped up the dance floor until she got a stitch in her side and went to bed.
I visited her room, to make sure she was okay.
"Is the dance party still happening?" she asked.
"Yes baby, but you go to sleep now. You've stayed up very late, and it's time to rest."
"Well, my tummy hurts, but I can't miss the dance party. Will it be over soon?"
"Not very soon, my angel pie."
"Okay, well, I'd better go back to it."
She got up and danced for another hour, finally collapsing into a chair just before one.
And so that's it for the holiday party roundup! Now it's noses-to-the-grindstone until spring. Goodbye, sweet freedom.
