The Skating Lovers, hand-coloured aquatint by Adam Buck, 1800
Oh Crikey, I have to admit that Christmas this year has crept up on me with unsettling haste; maybe it's something to do with Christmas falling on Tuesday? Poor Mrs Aitch is spending Christmas Eve- Bob Cratchit style- at the Blacking Factory. I'm supposed to be baking a ham, and stupidly forgot to soak it last night, sprawled on a sofa watching a DVD of Aces High instead- so it looks like an early morning Christmas Day crawl out of bed. We're off to Farm Street tonight for the Midnight Mass. Mrs Aitch is of a Catholic persuasion. I'm not especially, but I rather like the Jesuits, and for those of us who appreciate High Victorian Gothic architecture, it's a genuine treat.
As there are only two of us this year, we're having a goose- far preferable in flavour compared to that usurper Turkey, I think- which Mrs Aitch discovered at Fortnum's. It's a decent size and amazing value. Never was there such a goose! It's going to be stuffed with my mother's famous watercress and chestnut stuffing. We're also going to shred the Brussels sprouts and fry them in a wok, chef style, with peanut oil, ginger, garlic and a pinch of chili flakes: a recipe taken from Paul Levy's superb The Feast of Christmas.
This afternoon, I'm making Elizabeth David's apple sauce (to go with the goose tomorrow) and, if I've got time, my signature potted mushroom dish. One of the weird things about reaching the fag-end of late, late youth is that time seems to rocket by with increasing speed. For children, an hour seems like an eternity (remember the agony of Double Maths?), for grown-ups an hour goes by with the snap of a finger.
Incidentally, our Christmas card this year is the Skating Lovers by Adam Buck, and charming it is too. I've always wanted an original one of these- from the early years of the nineteenth century; they come up at auction now and again, but so far no luck. That's the thing about antiques. It's all about serendipity. Anyway, we'll get there in the end.
A Very Happy Christmas to all the Readers of The Greasy Spoon and My Best Wishes for the New Year.
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