And this year was no different. After the necessary disaster (no Christmas dinner is complete without one) of the turkey going off, and needing to get a new one, the Wiganer arrived safely (she was my sous chef), we went shopping, made mince pies (see previous blog) and got ready for the epic feat of cooking Christmas dinner for 12.
The first hurdle was the turkey. It was a beast of a bird, weighing in at 7.4kg. And this year we decided to steam it. So we lifted it into the disposable roasting dish (M&S £1.99 and worth every penny) and I filled it with my homemade stuffing (again, totally worth doing as it was delicious) and surrounded it with onions, garlic, celery, wine and stock. And covered it with butter and bacon.
Turkey was then popped into the oven, where he stayed for 3 hours straight. We didn't need to baste him once, and he was juicy and yum, and not dry one little bit.
While turkey was cooking we peeled (thank God I got the peeler; many of the carrots peeled by knife looked as though they had barely survived a massacre) and chopped (discovering in the process how tough parsnips really are- we bent one knife just trying to hack one in half) and prepared everything else until all we had to do was roast/boil/bake/heat up everything.
Next we did the tree. With an owl on the top (we have no star or angel). Wearing tinsel bandannas/belts. And singing along to Christmas songs, courtesy of the Wiganer (although, along with the classics - Mariah, Wham, etc, we were also treated to Elvis "I ain't nothing but a reindeer" and some very Catholic hymns) until the house looked festive to the extreme.
Lastly we did the table. Now, the Christmas table is important. Everything, from the decor, to the seating plan, to the amount of elbow space allotted per seat needs to be considered. I'd bought a second table - a gateleg (yes, a technical table term - it has flaps and folds out) one from ebay - £7, to add to otherwise inadequate table (which seats 6 at a very tight sqeeze). They were both then covered with tablecloths (easy cleaning) and each place was set with a napkin, and cracker (although not everyone had a knife - we were one short, but the helpful boyfriend managed to supply an extra). And I sprinkled some fairy sequins/confetti over everything (and yes they were fairies, not weird bugs, thank you guests that greeted the table with "Oh! Where did you find mosquito shaped confetti"). And finally arranged the varied assortment of chairs (I drew the short straw and was left with IKEA's cheapest "stool" - otherwise known as an upsidedown bucket.
By the time all of this was done, the turkey was brown (pour on melted butter and roast minus the tinfoil for 20mins), and it was time to move on to the rest of the vast feast. We did the veg, and the potatoes, and the stuffing (3kinds) and sausages and yorkshires, and gravy. And by the time everyone had arrived (the latest arrivals being the ones that lived the closest) and everyone was seated, we served up like mega-glam dinner ladies (bowls of things on the tables would simply not fit).
And then we were all sat down, and it was ready to eat,
drink,
and be merry...
And sitting there, with everyone chatting and eating and drinking and laughing, I really felt a true sense of happiness, derived from the achievement of cooking a roast for 12, of everyone being there, of no major fire-related incidents (granted, there was one, but it was negligible) and of seeing everyone, old friends, new friends, boyfriends and best friends.
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