Christmas Eve

In my kitchen, defrosting on a plate, is an Oakham Chicken, guaranteed succulent. British seasonsed chipolata sausages and red cabbage with red onion and redcurrant jelly. There is bread sauce in the fridge and potatoes in the cupboard ready to be roasted in olive oil, pillow cases on the children's doors and presents ready to go under the tree.

On Boxing day there will be ham in Norfolk and stuffing, apricot and rosemary. My parents house will be laden down with food like a merchants ship, stored in cupboards, upstairs drawers and in the conservatory, which doubles like a large kitchen at this time of year. Every turn to the end of the year will be marked by food as part of the voyage that is my family. I choose which parts of the voyage to take myself. A deep hearted mince pie, sherry and warm fire Happy Christmas to you.

Sherry Trifle

I put my grandparents Good Housekeeping book in the kitchen and opened it out at Sherry Trifle, I poured the caramel coloured Bristol Cream Sherry into a glass and put it to my nose. The ancient smell of the sherry hit me.

In my mind I saw grandad H, wearing a knitted waistcoat and smart trousers, shuffling around his musty home, making sherry trifle, which would sit on his pristine white table cloth. It would be decorated with gooey glace cherries. You could see the layers of sponge, fruit, custard and cream through the clear glass bowl and feel the mixture of layers in your mouth when you ate it. The sweetness of the yellow custard against the grown up alcohol soaked into the sweet trifle sponges, the fruit drunk on the sherry swelled to twice its size. I would sit next to the trifle bowl which was on the table between me and the adults in my life as a child and I was always told, never put jelly in trifle.

Last Friday I made desserts for a Christmas meal with my friends. I knew I would make sherry Trifle. I stood in my kitchen, in pink Crocs, whacking the sherry onto trifle sponges stuffed with Jam, this is the way I cook, throw it in. Then I put in the custard and realised that it wasn't going to set enough for the jelly, that I wanted to put in because who says you can't have jelly in custard? So, I had to leave it out, this time. Instead, I put the cream on the custard and then decorated it with glace cherries, hundreds and thousands and silver balls and took it to the party. Even though I followed an old recipe, the trifle was as flambuoyant as possible and it still tasted like it use to.

Sinterklaas

The Dutch Father Christmas has been to England and left behind pepernooten, small ginger tasting biscuits and sweet goodies for the kids, who left out a shoe for him to fill with things and a parsnip for the white horse (schimmel). Then a large parcel arrived from Holland with presents in it from B's parents, the kids of course, think this is Sinterklaas himself who has brought the presents. Food bits in the parcel included: Dutch cheese, that says on the front of the packet, Stuk Kaas, Speculaas biscuits, which have a kind of cinnamon smell to them, Dropjes, better known to you and I as liquorice, B's favourite and my favourie nut, borrel nootjes, which are peanuts in a crispy, spicy shell. Sinterklaas is a big time for kids in Holland, it's like Father Christmas coming early with his helper Zwarte Piet.

Just time to mention that I will be making trifle like my Grandad H use to make, at the end of this week for a party on Friday night, only I'm going to go my own way and stick jelly in it as well as custard.

Advent

Saturday night, first day of advent, after playing the role of the innkeepers wife in the church Nativity, I tucked into dinner at Deasons with family and friends. I had hot roast William Pear, stuffed with stilton, serrano ham, port glaze and candied walnuts. Hot pear that, as you cut into it the stilton came flowing out and mixed over the hot fruit. For a main I had field mushroom and shallot comfit nut pudding and curry parsnip emulsion and picked cauliflower. The pickled cauliflower provided sharpness agains the the sweet taste of the field mushroom and shallot pudding. Afterwards I had chocolate brownie, which was cooked on the outside and like chocolate mousse on the inside.




I had a gin and tonic to start and then a glass of large red wine with my dad, whose appetite for alcohol has come back since his heart operation. Although he looked smaller than he use too, I think it is the combination of slouching and shrinking as you get older, his colour was so good, like his full bodied red wine. He wore a dark blazer, dark shirt, dark tie with light pattern on it which seemed to give him distinction.



The next day we had a roast dinner and drank a sweet dessert wine called, "Chateau Tillac 2003", although food can be used in my family to avoid difficult situations, feelings this weekend it felt like a return to normality enjoying food and wine, something my father hadn't really had the stomach for over the last few months. Outloud and in my head, I toasted the doctor whose young hands had carried out my dad's procedure and whose approachable nature had calmed the waters. We then talked about what kind of stuffing to make for Christmas...to be continued