Countdown to Christmas

When the big day arrives, bleary-eyed parents who have stayed up most of the night building Lego models sigh through an alcohol and gift wrapping hangover as over-excited children rip open a plethora of Santa’s presents. Then, Bucks Fizz is served usually around seven am – it does contain orange juice, therefore totally acceptable to drink before nine am – as that’s when the real drinking can commence. Prosecco is favoured by most Brits up until twelve, when Champagne is opened as the first dinner guests arrive. This is entirely optional and totally depends on the following; a) how much you like them, b) do you care what they say about you behind your back, c) have they done this when they have previously hosted, d) how much money you have left after buying hot water bottles (fluffy, of course) and knitted Scandinavian style winter socks for a hygge Christmas experience. If in doubt, stick with Prosecco.
Christmas Day lunch often takes place between the hours of one and three, in which mountainous bowls of carrots, peas, Yorkshire puddings are served with turkey and, depending on the generosity of the household, one to two other meats like glazed Gammon, Beef or Lamb. Some others do like to hark back to tradition and serve Goose or Duck, but they tend sit down to dinner dressed in Dickenson costumes and favour parlour games.
The talking point around the table, after comments with regards to the succulent taste of the Turkey, is about the trimmings, this is where all the amateur chefs who have spent December watching every cookery programme on television exceed themselves. They concoct numerous ways to mask vegetables: cabbage is teamed with bacon and chestnuts, red cabbage has been fermenting in red wine for days beforehand, roasted vegetables automatically become more attractive if baked in goose fat, and carrots are glazed. Once the remnants of dinner have been cleared, Christmas pudding is served, the trick with this one is to light it with a dash of brandy and not continue to pour an entire bottle of Rum – as my Grandfather yearly did – making it inedible for young children and those who regularly attend AA meetings – most of my aunts, then. If this does happen, ice-cream and mince pies are a good alternative.
After the feast, with tight jeans about to pop, everyone retires to watch the Queen’s speech and watch films in front of the television. Fathers, uncles, brothers, dogs and grandparents will then have a sleep after plonking themselves in the most comfortable chairs – the rest of us on floor cushions – awaking only to the sound of their own snoring and the loud squabbles of children who are now melting down from too much sugar and too many presents, this continues up until bedtime. Boxing Day is entirely another day. Happy Christmas.

By Helen Harrison