Every Christmas I make a Christmas Star. Not out of tissue paper,
or papier maché, or glitter-festooned cardboard…
No, my Christmas Star is made out of a sweet bread dough, with
finely grated orange rind, glazed and plaited and with a candle in the middle.
I have been making this star for yonks, ever since the kids were
small and it is something we eat on Christmas Eve with the candle lit and a jar
of Nutella to spread on thick slices because it goes so well with the mild
orange tang. Now my girls are making it themselves in their homes with their
kiddos…
This is Emily’s. See it in the middle with the old candle going? I
bake with a greased cork in the centre, which when removed leaves a socket for
the candle. Ems didn’t have a cork so she made do with some scrumpled up silver
foil.
While we are talking about traditions, we have developed the
ideal Christmas morning breakfast. It evolved after doing the whole sausage,
bacon, fried egg, fried bread and mushroom scenario which was tasty but which left
us with a problem on several levels:
1.
We felt so full and bloated we didn’t really
feel like Christmas dinner
2.
Breakfast lasted so long I had to go straight
from the table to the cooker to start cooking the Christmas dinner that nobody
felt like eating, but which had to be made, because that is what we do
3.
There was very little time to open presents
4.
Because the boys cooked such a massive breakfast
they felt morally above any domestic slavery chores for the rest of the
day. A point of view which I swiftly disarmed them of [or should that be; a point of view of which I swiftly disarmed
them]. I went to a Grammar school and I can’t help it…
So this gave birth to a brainwave. I refused to let them
pass on breakfast and just eat sweets from their stockings, so I settled on
cereals. Not any cereals, no. I bought several assortment packs of those
individual small boxes of the exotic cereals I never used to let them eat – the
chocolate sugary ones. For kids brought up on either Weetabix or porridge, this
was like manna from Heaven. And these fluffy, crunchy cereals don’t fill you
up, it’s as if you have eaten air. Perfect!
Even though my youngest is now 17, we still lay the table on
breakfast morning with the assortment pack…
But some new ideas are not ever going to make it to the ‘traditions’
level.
One year [I was probably pregnant and tired] I said to the
children;
‘You can choose any
dinner you like on Christmas Day! Just because Daddy and I like roast turkey
doesn’t mean you do. So, what would you really, really like to eat as a treat?’
They took a vote and they came up with oven chips and fish
fingers.
Why?
And so that is what they got, but I never gave them a choice
again. Too much power in the hands of children is not often a good thing.
But hey ho, this Christmas the entire dinner was prepped and
cooked by one of my girls who still lives at home. I won’t give her name
because she would be embarrassed. But it was the nicest Christmas dinner I have
ever eaten. So now of course I will expect her to do it forever.
Saggy
[With some photos from Ellie - not the one who cooked the Christmas dinner]