It seems I’ve started a war of attrition. This morning the office matriarch (a Robbie-Williams-loving, East-End-rocking, spinning-class-teaching force of nature) entered with a fanfare. “I’ve made falafel for all of us. Took me bleedin’ ages – I had to put the chickpeas in my juicer. This cooking without packets business takes hours – it’s all the chopping.”
I sunk down in my Aeron (the Rolls Royce of office chairs, apparently) and tried to keep an even lower profile than usual. Sweets aren’t really my forte, I’m actually better (I think) at savoury dishes, but I shan’t be sharing any more glut with the office.
Speaking of cooking…the nights are drawing in the mornings are getting darker and that can only mean one thing: Christmas is coming! Last night, over dinner, TA and I started plotting. As a side note, things on that front are calmer at the moment than they have been for a while – it’s wonderful, like a break in the cloud.
I’m planning to do the full Fearnley-Whittingstall with a few mods of my own. It will definitely and deliberately be an easier menu than last year (I nearly lost the plot and swore never again – now, of course, I’m eating my words!). So, we will most likely have: goose three different ways (stuffed neck, confit and roast), oven roast root veggies (probably Jerusalem artichokes, carrots, parsnips and beetroot), sauté potatoes, prune and chestnut stuffing, blackened Brussels with garlic…and, as an alternative to my mum’s Christmas pud (mainly for TA’s benefit), lemon meringue sundaes.
Any suggestions for the Boxing Day menu?