Christmas in stages

 I don't know about you, but this isn't quite how I picture Christmas. I've just been for a refreshing Boxing Day walk around the graveyard after a discussion about powers of attorney. Heartwarming, it isn't. 

But! The quiet meal and limited family is pretty much how our actual Christmasses have panned out for the last few years. My parents' siblings have complicated other family requirements and we usually have an actual get together maybe around 27th if we're lucky. Which means you need to do something for Christmas Day that doesn't kill off your will to eat sprouts, cream, raisins or (gawdhelpus) turkey. 

So it is that the Haunton Family Christmas (TM) has been little for a while. And we have evolved our way towards having the nice things you associated with a Christmas meal, but spread out. I commend this to you when you're facing Christmas for one/two/three people when you're used to one of those involving 18 people, trestle tables in the garden, and someone sleeping on the conservatory floor with the dog and the bags of presents. 

Christmas Eve this year was trimmings: orange and honey-glazed roast carrots and parsnips, stuffing. If Dad hadn't hidden the chestnuts in what he has termed the "party bag" (along with, it transpired, all the good crisps, the Christmas puddings and some habas fritas which have no festive history here but okay), they'd have been on this plate too. 

 

Christmas Day lunch was roast duck with roasties and giblet gravy, and cranberry sauce, which all told takes about 20 minutes of proper cooking. 

 

Self-basting beasts like duck = perfect for this purpose. And you can use the fat at once instead of it cluttering the fridge forever. And it stops me putting the roasties in too early because you have to wait for the fat to render.

 

Plus garden peas with pea shoots stirred in because we're fancy. 

 Christmas Day dinner involved bread and cheese, and Christmas pudding, and we just about felt like it by then. Also, we opened the good crisps now we'd found them.

 

Today has been leftovers - more cheese, but this time with a pickled walnut and plenty of watercress (official leftovers style). 

Tomorrow, when the fact we aren't getting together as a bigger family may finally start to be noticeable we'll have fancy smoked fish and garnishes. Because it's time for the starter. 

We may be out of mince pies. I shall investigate. 

If your Christmas has also dwelt rather more on care pathways and legal capacity than you really wanted; if you've been lonely and things have lacked sparkle; or even if things have been fine but you just wish this year hadn't been such a clusterfuck, I do have one answer: 

It is remarkably cheering. This vintage is about £35 at the moment, but it's like silk and Ribena in a grown-up glass. It definitely took the edge off this year.

I don't think I can Confined Cocktails tonight, or not officially at 7 - will try to join you as and when possible. Please hashtag away as you need. I will be around for New Year's Eve, though. And so, onwards.