On The Seventh Day of Christmas...

On The Seventh Day of Christmas My True Love gave to me…

7 Festive Meals

How did the folk who celebrated all twelve days of Christmas do it? Food-wise, I mean. It’s only the day after New Year’s, and I am thankful that the Christmas food festivities are over.

Our holiday food fest starts early—on December 13, with my husband’s birthday. This year we had shepherd’s pie made with ale and mashed potatoes with smoked cheddar and mustard, and birthday cake of course.

Then came tree-decorating day, and since my father-in-law, a trained hotel chef, joins us, we go all out to impress. This year we made Boeuf-en-daub, with a lavish cake made with chocolate and Irish whisky for dessert.

Next, there’s Christmas Eve dinner (Chicken cannelloni this year, and my husband’s famous Caesar Salad), then Christmas breakfast (Homemade Quiche, fresh fruit salad, Ukrainian delicacies including Kutya, Kolbasa, and homemade Kulach, served with Kir Royale).

We have a lovely Christmas dinner at my sister-in-law’s house, with good food and excellent company, as merry as a dinner can possibly be, and then make our own turkey dinner a few days later, so we can enjoy the leftovers. We’re going to try Jamie Oliver’s delicious looking Boxing Day soup this year, made with the leftovers no one can face any longer, in the usual way, peeping out from between two sheets of bread. 

On New Year’s Day, we have Scottish Breakfast, a traditional and massive fry up, to celebrate my husband’s Scottish roots. There’s Ayrshire bacon, sliced sausage, black pudding, tattie scones, tomatoes, mushrooms, eggs—and toast too, in case you’re still hungry.

Five pounds later, with my jeans a little tight, and the Christmas glow finally dimming in my blood-shot eyes, I am glad that Christmas is over at last—at least the eating part.

Every year at this time, we all pat our bellies, put the cookbooks and glossy food magazines back on the shelf, and say, “next year, less food. Certainly no more chocolates—well, maybe just one box. And we’ll avoid the gourmet cheese store next December, and maybe leave the sliced sausage out of Scottish breakfast.”

It never happens, of course. Family tradition sees to that. Come Christmas 2013, despite our good intentions at this end of the year, we’ll do it all again, and we’ll enjoy every mouthful, since every dish is served with good conversation, jokes and stories, family togetherness and love. The five pounds will succumb to a few weeks of sensible eating, but the warm, wonderful feelings last forever.

And isn’t that what Christmas food is really about?