Breakfast over. Waiting my turn at the sink to wash my plate and bowl together with various bits of ironmongery. Simple fare for a change for Christmas Day which is normally a full on job. Two slices of sourdough toast, two croissants and half a grapefruit. I’m conscious of the smoked salmon blinis to come at eleven followed by roast suckling pig off the barbecue at one thirty, or similar. Seem to have left the butter in the bag I used to carry some vino over to the Cooksons but at least the owner of the cottage has left some Lurpak amongst the “welcome” supplies.
Tom has gone out for a run. Tis v vold out there.
Our first Christmas away from home for some considerable length of time. I must say it is nice not to have the responsibility of cooking albeit merely delayed until Sunday back at ours where the Davies family is convening. These days I focus on just the meat, gravy and the roast potatoes. I am not trusted with all the veg after the year I did it all and didn’t have everything ready at the appointed time. The use of the Meater thermometer pretty much guarantees a perfect result and I’m a pretty dab hand at gravy and roasties even if I say so myself. I also do the pigs in blankets.
The setup we have here is ideal. We are in the Old Coach House cottage just down the road from the Cooksons gaff. A leisurely start for both sets of occupants before gathering for the main event mid morning. It’s a secret Santa job when we get to theirs. Easiest way to go when we have ten of us. Imagine if everyone had bought everyone else a prezzie. Nine presents each to open times ten. Carnage. Chaos. Expensive.
Anyway happy Christmas to all. Hope you have a great day. I have to go. The sink has become free.