| Damnit, here they are again--those feasting days when the world is supposed to stop, and people are to gather together (a superlatively redundant expression if ever I used one) and to (one of these words
aren't needed) make merry with loved (and hated) ones. To generally to put aside the quotidian in order to indulge in a fit of false gratitude and gracious overspending, in gluttony and--for the lucky few--unlimited charitable exercise. Also in hectic travel and dangerous alcohol and cholesterol intake, in football watching and candle lighting, in good and nefarious traditions alike--in order to end the year with stories that will make the coming months seem worth the trouble.
Well, I wish you all luck surviving another round.
For my part, this year I have decided to forego the playacting and overindulging, and have resolved that the holidays will bear as great a resemblance to my mundane existence as I can achieve, the one major difference being (and I don’t mean to brag, but I am glorying in this as a first) that I get to take a couple days off! Weehaw! Color me spoiled rotten. The week of Christmas I get to set my own hours, and, if I cross my toes just right, New Year’s will find me in Waikiki, naked and feasting on sauerkraut and champagne on the beach.
But well, my plans are simple, clearly, in comparison to most. What I will do in order to complicate things a little is cook, and I do mean cook--cook as though my life depended upon it, cook as though the world were about to end, cook like I had Lizzie II herself on the way to Kailua to dine with me, cook like my mama taught me, cook like I had imbibed a Julia Childs-worthy bottle of sherry! Honey, I’m gonna’ cook.
And what I will do for each and every one of you out there is just this: I will share some of my secret feast day recipes so that you too could serve royalty--dead or alive--and be proud.
The perfect way to start a holiday is with mimosas and a Quiche Lorraine. The difficult part here is finding Lorraine; she ought to be no older than two years and preferably have aged for at least 18 months because you really need a good marbling of fat, but without plenty of good meat, you’ll lose texture. Now, you will liberally salt and pepper the child and then fit her into a good-sized glass baking dish that you have lined with a pie crust. Once she is snugly in her dish, you will pour an egg and mushroom mixture over her and liberally sprinkle with provolone. The rest is simple. Leave the Quiche to bake on 400 until it stops crying --long enough for a pitcher or two of mimosas--and then dig right in, serving your Quiche Lorraine with just a sprig of mint.
Now, with your belly full of child (in a far better sense than any other, I assure you), you can proceed to open gifts, watch a game, or fight with your relatives in perfect confidence that you are fed well until the real holiday meal is ready.
Now, you are all very lucky that I am passing these recipes on to you this year because, to be perfectly honest, for the first year since about 1996, we have had an excellent year for tots who make better suppers than offspring.
So, your holiday dinner: Start by de-boning your chosen ankle biter. It is best if you have already prepared a stew pot into which you will deposit the bones with some red and green lentils for a hearty soup that you will be able to freeze for the New Year. For now though, pay close attention to the boneless child, now ready for further preparation. In a skillet, heat some olive oil with garlic and cumin into which you will gently place the child’s fingers and toes along with some small yellow Maui onions. Next, inject a lemon zest and garlic mixture under the little bugger’s skin, rub it down with clarified butter and kosher salt; truss the arms and legs tightly to the trunk and place in a roasting pan.
At this point it doesn’t really matter what side dishes you serve, because your wine pairings and sauces are key. I would recommend either a blackberry merlot – in which case your perfectly browned kiddi-kron should bear only a modest orange and rosemary glaze--or a light, clean Gewurtztraminer--for which you’ll want a stout saucy something using plenty of honey and green peppercorns.
MmMmMm. When you carve up that juicy secondhand DNA, you will thank me. You will render me your gratitude around delectable mouthfuls of both braised midget digits and roast rack-of-baby, the most spectacular and simple holiday dining experience you’ve ever had. |
