Tag: xmas

I asked the younger child to "help" me calculate how much Yorkshire pudding batter to make for this Christmas dinner.

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Dan, a white man with a beard and blue hair, wearing a WordPress-themed Christmas jumper, beats a bowl of batter.

"Well," he began, "I'm going to want FIVE Yorkshire puddings, soo..."

We got our dog a Christmas jumper.
My favourite thing about it is that its coat hanger contains instructions for use:
"Please insert dog" 🤣

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Christmas jumper for a dog, featuring blue-and-white stripes and sequin Christmas trees; its hanger contains an arrow pointing down alongside the text 'please insert dog'.

This evening I used leftover cocktail sausages to make teeny-tiny toads-in-the-hole (my kids say they should be called frogs-in-the-dip).

It worked out pretty well.

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A pyramid of four bite-sized toads-in-the-hole alongside chive mash and carrots, smothered in gravy, on a plate.

Micro-recipe:

1. Bake cocktail sausages (or veggie sausages, pictured) until barely done.
2. Meanwhile, make a batter (per every 6 sausages: use 50ml milk, 50g plain flour, 1 egg, pinch of salt).
3. Remove sausages from oven, then turn up to 220C.
4. Put a teaspoon of a high-temperature oil (e.g. vegetable, sunflower) into each pit of a cake/muffin tin, return to oven until almost at smoke point.
5. Add a sausage or two to each pit and return to the oven for a couple of minutes to come back up to temperature.
6. Add batter to each pit. It ought to sizzle when it hits the oil, if it's hot enough. Return to the oven.
7. Remove when puffed-up and crisp. Serve with gravy and your favourite comfort food accompaniments.

Got the ratio of chipolatas to bacon wrong for your Christmas pigs-in-blankets and now have more cocktail sausages than you know what to do with? No, just me?

Here's my planned solution, anyway - teeny tiny toads-in-the-hole! (Toad-in-the-holes?) Let's see how it works out...

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Cupcake-sized Yorkshire pudding batter cups, each with a cocktail sausage or two inside, being inserted into an oven.

The fifth day of Christmas, and perhaps my last opportunity of the season to justify having trifle... for breakfast.

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Dan, standing on a kitchen, holds a large bowl partially filled with trifle.

Our family Christmas Eve tradition, which we absolutely stole from Icelandic traditions (cultural appropriation? I'm not sure...) via some newspaper article we saw years ago, is a book exchange.

verybody gives each other person a book,then we sit around and read until people retire to bed (first the kids, then - eventually - the adults).

We love it.

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Dan sits by firelight reading a red-spined book.

Christmas Jumper Day at school, and I'm continuing my never-ending effort never to rest on my laurels, proving myself time and again worthy of my title of Most Embarrassing Parent.

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Three people in a decorated hallway, wearing Christmas jumpers and headgear. Dan, in the centre, is wearing a jumper designed to make him look like a tiny elf, and a matching hat. To his right, a girl wears a jumper showing Rudolf, and a pair of spring-mounted reindeer deely-boppers. To his left, a boy with his eyes closed throws a thumbs-up: he's wearing a jumper with a pixel-art picture of Santa, and a wooly Santa hat.

At first I thought "Christmas post" had something to do with letters and parcels, but then I found one in the wild.

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Finger post footpath sign adorned with a toy snowman and wrapped in a spiral of red and silver tinsel.

Today I put 550 Christmas cards into envelopes, sealed them, put address labels on them, and stamped them.

Because these were the "lick and stick" kind of envelopes rather than a self-sealing variety, I've been unable to taste anything except glue ever since.

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Cardboard box containing many hundreds of sealed Christmas-card-sized envelopes.

Even when you're not remotely ready to think about Christmas yet and yet it keeps getting closer every second.

Even when the house is an absolute shambles and trying to rectify that is one step forward/one step sideways/three steps back/now put your hands on your hips and wait, what was I supposed to be tidying again?

Even when the electricity keeps yo-yoing every few minutes as the country continues to be battered by a storm.

Even when you spent most of the evening in the hospital with your injured child and then most of the night habitually getting up just to reassure yourself he's still breathing (he's fine, by the way!).

Even then, there's still the comfort of a bacon sarnie for breakfast. 😋

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Brioche bun loaded with thick cut bacon rashers, plated, on a wooden surface.