The sun apparently rose today. As the day lightened before me, and I reclined on the lounge covered in cockerpoos, the day was nothing but grey. And that was how it stayed. Grey with light, drizzly, ever so polite rain. It would have been nice to have some snow but, given the temperature didn’t fall below 9°, had any fallen, it would have vanished pretty quickly.
Mind you, the mist put paid to seeing much of anything.
Not that the weather bothered me. I was too busy in the kitchen.
I started preparing Christmas lunch at 07:45 and, following St Delia’s Most Excellent Schedule, had the table fully laid and ready for devouring by 14:00. Of course, a lot of it was made easier because I’d made a few things last week. They just had to thaw out.
I did have a sizeable break at one stage which happened to coincide with Mirinda’s chat with Fi and the kids so, for a change, I sat in on it. They had a lovely though tropical stormy Christmas Day. It was just the three of them and they all seemed very happy.
Bob was with Judy’s family. They will be going to visit Fi tomorrow.
In the meanwhilst, back in Farnham, the aromas coming from the kitchen were overpowering. The massive turkey was producing the kind of smell that causes civilisations to fall. The Gaz Guts Gravy, once it was burbbling away, assaulted the nasal passages like a friendly force of nostril pleasure.
The super crispy (on the outside), fluffy (on the inside) roast potatoes tumbled onto the serving dish like so much perfection. The Parma Snips huddled together, waiting with delight. The veg…well, the veg just sat there like veg.
And Mirinda was well pleased.
Given our lo-carb lifestyle, Christmas lunch is a glorious departure into a world of naughty pleasure. It was all delicious, if I do say so myself. Which I just did. I don’t care. It was.
After lunch, we collapsed in front of the TV and watched the newest, 2019, Little Women. I enjoyed it very much. I thought the cast was very strong and I loved the costumes. The only thing I didn’t like was the fact that the book at the end was called Little Women. Mirinda told me that Jo’s book, in the book, is called Beth’s Story. Given the relationships of the sisters, I think the film loses something by not highlighting how important they were all to each other. Especially Beth.
Anyway, that was a minor thing. Other than that I loved it.
We also loved the shortbread, which quickly vanished accompanied by three quarter glasses of milk.
Of course, we were too full for food later on. In fact, there was only room for a bit of Christmas cake. So, I attacked my 2021 creation.
And the verdict? Mirinda reckons it’s the best Christmas cake I’ve made. I don’t know about that, but the royal icing is definitely one of my best.
All up, a lovely Farnham Christmas.
