We now have a frozen turkey crown, and I have a feeling of foreboding. Julia keeps remarking how small it is (despite it being a chunk of meat the size of her head which will serve six people). I wonder what she’s planning for Christmas.
Meanwhile, that’s Christmas done for me. If the shops closed tomorrow we have enough food to see us through to Christmas. Admittedly some of the stuff will be tinned beans of various sorts, but we could get through, and we could have turkey for Christmas dinner. Fortunately this won’t happen, but it could. As soon as the freezer door closes on the main meat, I always relax.
Obviously, things will be better with a supply of fresh veg, but the pressure is off. There shouldn’t really be any pressure, but it always feels like it is. Ideally we should just eat normally through Christmas, but it doesn’t seem to happen. When i lived on my own, I just used to eat my standard menu, or eat my favourite food as a treat. This does not include either chicken or turkey, if I’m honest. I’d probably just have bacon sandwiches for Christmas Dinner, or beans on cheese on toast. Or soup with a nice cheese and pickle sandwich on the side. I’m not a gourmet.
Tonight’s shopping was not satisfactory. The cauliflower was the size of a tennis ball and there were no courgettes. This means the cauliflower cheese will make a poor main course and there will be no ratatouille, and no courgette in the pasta bake. It’s a minor inconvenience compared to being homeless or out of work, but most lives are made up of such minor inconveniences. And that’s before you get to the avocados, which are a touch riper than I would like. I am sure that the eighteen-year-old me would be staring at this strange elderly man in disbelief. Are cauliflowers, courgettes and avocados now my life? At that age I’m not sure I’d ever eaten a courgette and avocado was a shade of green used in bathroom suites, not a foodstuff.
Life is a strange journey.
Pictures are of a variety of Santa volunteers who helped out at Christmas on the farm.