Framed

Proof is in the pudding

A secret and trusted recipe. I watched Karen pour far too much Brandy into this, hey, who is complaining about that?

Convergence

Everything has come together, 3.45pm, the Christmas dinner is complete, the gravy is ready and the feast has been assembled. Time to eat like it's Christmas Day.

On schedule.

It's 1.20pm and the vast array of vegetables have been installed in the oven for about twenty minutes now, we leave them alone for an hour and then turn them. Potatoes, Carrots, Turnip, Parsnips and onion all in a shallow roaster pan. The brussels sprouts will be steamed later. Now it is time for a traditional "Brandy and Babycham" equivalent for the missus and a straight shot of twelve year old Canadian Rye Whisky on the rocks for the mister (in my dad's glass) .

It's all going to plan.

Beer O'Clock

Almost 11.30am and the yule log is burning, Karen's choice of tipple is a German pilsner called Radeberger and I have a darker brew, Holsten Festbock, again from Germany. The turkey has had two of it's designated ten twenty minute periods and we're settled for a quiet hour by the fire. It's cold and raining outside but it's toasty in here.

Cheers!

Christmas day in the workhouse

The day is being consumed as we type, the turkey has just gone into the oven at 10.45am and we're drinking sherry and coffee at the same time. Twenty minutes ago the Canadian bacon ritual was completed after we had opened the prezzies. Christmas day is all about pacing and medium indulgence, too much of anything can spoil the rest of it. In about ninety minutes, the vegetables will go in, in fifteen minutes we hope to have a roaring fire in the grate and soon a Christmas beer will be started. Merry Christmas Mister Scrooge!!