I think it takes at least 3 repeats for something to become tradition. And the Christmas dinner for all our uni friends is now firmly cemented as such. And everytime a new mini tradition is added - secret santa presents, certain drinking games, brownies for pudding, etc.
We never manage to get everyone every year, but there is always a good number and every year there will be someone new (new boyfriends or girlfriend, new housemates, or colleagues) but it never matters - the philosophy has always been the more the merrier.
This year, in true festive spirit the snow came down thick and fast the morning of the dinner. It looked wonderful. But it did make the walk to ASDA a little more problematic. Though not as bad as the day before. When I fell over. Carrying 8 (yes EIGHT) carrier bags of food for the dinner (I had decided to do the booze and mixers on the day, so there were no bottles, however I was carrying all the potatoes, carrots, parsnips, etc - basically everything bulky and heavy) I had carefully balanced myself with four bags of equal weight in each hand. Clearly the planning was not so great as I really did fall totally flat on my back. Carrots went rolling off, broccoli florets were bouncing across the frozen tarmac. And a line of traffic had to stop while I picked myself up. In fact three people FROM SEPARATE CARS (two were the actual drivers) had to get out of their vehicles to pick me and the shopping up. One even got some spare bags for life out of his boot. And to top it all off I still had over half the walk home, and am now sporting a rather impressive bruise on my bum. Great.
The walk on Saturday was slightly less eventful (I only fell down once, and the Wiganer was on hand to pick me up, also a hedge was blocking the view from the road so the humiliation was lessened). And luckily the Boyfriend picked us up in his brand new car (RIP the micra...).
But we were running really late - it was 3pm and the turkey was not even in the oven, and we were apparently eating at 6.30. No chance I hear you snort, but actually we were not far off that. Because we have an ingenious, foolproof, and most importantly, a lazy way of cooking the turkey.
Ingredients:
Turkey
4 Carrots
2 sticks of celery
2 Leeks
3 Onions
4 cloves of garlic
Seasoning
White wine (about half a bottle)
1 1/2 pints of chicken stock
Stuffing
First stuff and season your bird. Then roughly chop all the veg into fairly large chunks. Place in a large disposable aluminium roasting tray and put the turkey on top. Place on the hob and pour in the liquids. Bring to the boil on top of the hob and then cover with two layers of bacofoil and pop in a pre-heated oven (200 degrees) for 2 hours.
That is it. No basting, no need to check it. After two hours take it out, have a look and pierce it with a knife - juices run clear and no one should die. If there don't pop it back in for 20 minutes.
Once it is cooked take it out. Mix together some honey, a little butter/marg and some lemon juice. Using a pastry brush paint it all over the top of the turkey and then sprinkle with thyme. Into a hot oven for 20mins until crispy and brown. Take out and rest for 20mins until ready to carve (or be hacked apart by inexperienced Boyfriend).
We did the usual veggies and trimmings (homemade sausage meat stuffing was my piece de resistance). And rounded it all off with brownies and choc sauce, mince pies and creme fraiche, crackers and secret santa presents. And then we played games and danced and drank and eventually went out (but would not get into the cabs until some people had started a snowball fight).
We went to a club and danced. And got in at 3am to turkey and stuffing sandwiches and leftover brownies. Another tradition. Yum.
Showing posts with label turkey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label turkey. Show all posts
Monday, 20 December 2010
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
Countdown to Christmas: Christmas Dinner
Every year since the very start of university we have cooked a Christmas dinner. And every year it is fraught with trials and tribulations; the carrots are not in batons but circles, there is not enough gravy, there is too much gravy, there are brussel sprouts, we forgot yorkshires, the oven is too small, the turkey has not defrosted in time, etc. But every year it all pulls together, and everyone arrives, and sits down, and shuts up, and we have a wonderful dinner til we are full with food, drink and laughter.
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.
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.
Thursday, 3 January 2008
Christmas Roast and all the trimmings
Wiganer and I decided to have a Christmas gathering.
We invited 12 people with the intention of cooking whole roast.
All was fine until realised I was having my teeth out two days before. That seemed to instigate a further trail pf problems.
Firstly, getting a turkey. Not that easy. Finally manage to locate one that was a) right size and b) not requiring a mortgage to buy. Sadly it was in a giant ASDA about 10million miles from where we live. and i was by myself.
So had to carry 8lb frozen turkey home. It nearly killed me. And I never believed a piece of frozen food could create so many bruises.
Problem number two. Left turkey to defrost in fridge. Sadly fridge is mal-functioning and therefore seemed, if anything, to freeze turkey further.
So left it in the kitchen. Again, due to negative temperature of flat, really was not defrosting at all. Wiganer suggested putting it in microwave. I vetoed that. Didn't want to poison guests.
Eventually decided to leave it in bedroom. Just hoped it wouldn't amke it smell funny.
Also, decided to name turkey Rosemary (rosie for short).
Morning of dinner arrives. Got up at half 8 to switch on oven (door doesn't close properly so had to calculate extra three hours for rosie's cooking).
Went to set up table. Then realised that we had invited 12 people. And only have 2chairs in whole flat.
Spent hour frantically ringing everyone we know for chairs. Boyfriend came to rescue. Bless him.
Wiganer and I checked on Rosie. Thought oven door looked funny colour. Opened door. Appeared to have rather large fire going on in there.
The flames managed to jump out of thte oven, set fire to a teatowel hanging nearby (NB don't keep flamable material near ovens) which in turn nearly set fire to wooden shelf.
Lucky Wiganer nearby. Managed to get fire under control. And in all the excitement oven door became fixed! Hurrah!
After that, day was fairly accident free. I managed to accidentally get quite drunk before guests arrived (blamed painkillers of teeth) but was just merry, not dangerous.
And dinner turned out marvelously. Was lovely. And as we calculated a bit wrong, there was more than enough of Rosie left of the Wiganer to have many a turkey sandwich.
We invited 12 people with the intention of cooking whole roast.
All was fine until realised I was having my teeth out two days before. That seemed to instigate a further trail pf problems.
Firstly, getting a turkey. Not that easy. Finally manage to locate one that was a) right size and b) not requiring a mortgage to buy. Sadly it was in a giant ASDA about 10million miles from where we live. and i was by myself.
So had to carry 8lb frozen turkey home. It nearly killed me. And I never believed a piece of frozen food could create so many bruises.
Problem number two. Left turkey to defrost in fridge. Sadly fridge is mal-functioning and therefore seemed, if anything, to freeze turkey further.
So left it in the kitchen. Again, due to negative temperature of flat, really was not defrosting at all. Wiganer suggested putting it in microwave. I vetoed that. Didn't want to poison guests.
Eventually decided to leave it in bedroom. Just hoped it wouldn't amke it smell funny.
Also, decided to name turkey Rosemary (rosie for short).
Morning of dinner arrives. Got up at half 8 to switch on oven (door doesn't close properly so had to calculate extra three hours for rosie's cooking).
Went to set up table. Then realised that we had invited 12 people. And only have 2chairs in whole flat.
Spent hour frantically ringing everyone we know for chairs. Boyfriend came to rescue. Bless him.
Wiganer and I checked on Rosie. Thought oven door looked funny colour. Opened door. Appeared to have rather large fire going on in there.
The flames managed to jump out of thte oven, set fire to a teatowel hanging nearby (NB don't keep flamable material near ovens) which in turn nearly set fire to wooden shelf.
Lucky Wiganer nearby. Managed to get fire under control. And in all the excitement oven door became fixed! Hurrah!
After that, day was fairly accident free. I managed to accidentally get quite drunk before guests arrived (blamed painkillers of teeth) but was just merry, not dangerous.
And dinner turned out marvelously. Was lovely. And as we calculated a bit wrong, there was more than enough of Rosie left of the Wiganer to have many a turkey sandwich.
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