yule have a good time

I was in such agonies choosing only two pictures to illustrate Christmas. I have so many of the lunch itself, over the years, that I thought I would make a break and show the behind-the-scenes; after all, we spend so much more time on the lead up and preparation than the actual meal itself!

So here is the cranberry sauce in process, with peeled, prepared vegetables - and the hot ham lunch to reward us after.

This year the storms meant we skipped some last minute shopping in favour of staying dry and off the road. We walked to the village to scour pre-apocalyptic shelves bereft of goods and managed to salvage our smoked salmon on Christmas Eve tradition, and also found the last bag of prunes for our lovely, lovely devils on horseback (pre-lunch, Christmas Day).  This year Ma called them 'devils-on-donkeys' which, unfortunately, stuck.

Some things had to be jettisoned though, so instead of using orange juice and zest in the cranberry sauce, I slugged in some sloe gin, and would do it again next year.

Cooking the ham on Christmas Eve is a practical move, so it is ready for next day's lunch - and saves space in the oven the next day. More, though, it is such a lovely simple meal to have when most other meals are rich or erratic or just not part of a usual routine. My Mother is always the Christmas cook; although I learnt from her I sometimes forget how very simply she can cook - and how surprisingly tasty this is. This year the ham was roasted, very plain, and served just with boiled potatoes and white cabbage.  The intense saltiness of the meat provided all the flavour the dish needed. 

The ends of the joint were sticky with almost burnt fat, and when no one was looking I pulled at the fat and ate it up. 

routine, interrupted

Christmas lunch reminds me of school and how we used to spend the hour before school Christmas lunch making hats to wear. 

Hats!

The full turkey roast in a pub today at 3pm was terrific and made me very happy, but I was so confused when I wasn't hungry again by 6 pm. My routine - if it deserves such a name - was interrupted!

This is my quail's eggs and nacho supper. It hit the spot all right. The dusty stuff in the dish is celery salt, adding another dimension to the eggs, as this season adds a salty pinch of zest to the cold, dark winter.

chicken and rice re-vamped

A little addenda to previous chicken and rice mentions.

I got boring about a very plain chicken recipe some years back, re-ignited my love of it when Melly Bo said it was basically the same as Asian chicken and rice, sans rice (such nice comfort knowing it is a family staple somewhere else), and then promptly forgot all about it.

A year or so later Rosie, staunch robust little Rosie, actually gave in to being tired and unwell and said she'd love to eat something like it: soupy, savoury and nourishing.  Well it only takes chicken pieces, water and a handful of any veg so I gussied some up for her in no time and have been back on the wagon ever since.

Last night I made enough for four frugal portions: 4 big chicken thighs, 6 chunky cut carrots, 3 leeks cut in wedges and a heavy grind of pepper, covered in water and simmered for 40 minutes or so.  Three portions were boxed up for another time.  With the remaining portion, I threw half a cup of rice in the cooking water for the last ten minutes, and some shredded cabbage, making perfect chicken and rice.  I ate it with a dash of English mustard and a nod to Nigella and her 'Praised chicken'.

Tonight I got home late and tired yet again, and was pleased for a little chicken dish waiting.  Having had rice at lunchtime too, I needed a change.  I am simply so excited about this: how easy and speedy it was, and how very filling!

The little portion of plain stewed chicken heated up in no time.  When it was at a simmer I pushed in a scant bowl of pasta shapes (peculiar little ones I get from my local shop, small enough to cook in 6 minutes) and a leftover few florets of broccoli.  After six or seven minutes the pasta was ready and I had an unctuous, soupy mix; into this I grated some parmesan, plonked on a couple of heaped teaspoons of wholegrain mustard and set to.

Perfect.