You have no idea.
This holiday makes me lose my marbles. It causes the synapses in my brain to spew chemicals in the shape of sugar plums and sleigh-bells, as evidenced by my (cat-lady?) decor choices as of late: there are paper snowflakes and twinkle lights at the office; glass ornaments dangling off house plants; a bushy wreath on the front door and friends’ Christmas cards stringed across the doorway of my kitchen. I don’t care how un-cool it all looks.
In my family, Christmas insanity reaches its crescendo in the kitchen. It’s one of the genetic hazards of having Italian blood coursing through your veins. The amount of baking and cooking that goes on between the 23rd to the 26th of December is fairly ridiculous, but I can’t imagine spending a Christmas without an army of cookie sheets, a metric ton of butter, and all those bags of sugar, dark chocolate and nonpareils. It’s special. It’s magical. And despite the madness (and sweating and finger-burning and swearing), I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Over the next couple of days, I will need to remind myself of this last point – repeatedly – as I prepare to make dinner for my family on the 25th. Christmas dinner. THE dinner. It might be an epic disaster, but I’m willing to risk it for the chance to knock grandma’s socks off. Here it is, in bullet-point form:
Christmas dinner for 10
- Satsuma and pomegranate Campari cocktails
- Beet root chips with fennel seeds
- Persimmon/pear/bocconcini caprese toasts
- Smoky sweet potato hummus with toasted pita chips
- Panko-crusted artichokes
- Butternut squash and apricot soup with pistachios
- Frisée & mint salad with pomegranate
- Turkey with rosemary butter and gravy
- Herbed bread stuffing
- Potato and parsnip purée
- Brussel sprouts with chestnuts, leeks and bacon
- Baked lemon and thyme mushrooms
- Cranberry compote with orange, ginger and dates
- Spice cake with lemon curd filling and cloud frosting
(fingers crossed it all goes off without a hitch…)
Happy holidays, lovely readers. See you all again here soon ♥