ABOUT two months before Christmas, Mr Country and I agreed that we would host the family Christmas dinner. Little did we know at the time that it would end up being a table for thirteen.
With military planning and a well -esearched menu it all went pretty well. I like to make everything myself and add some cheffy touches. On this occasion Nigella was my guide. My plan, on her recommendation, for a truly juicy Turkey was to marinade it for three days with herbs and spices in a bucket of water in the garden. But I had visions of the thing still being frozen on Christmas morning and covered in snow so I scrapped that idea. Instead it was cooked the traditional way and turned upside down to rest for three hours after it came out.
The potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and Brussels were all peeled and chopped the night before, the sausages were wrapped in blankets, the joint of ham was glazed and cooked and the starters were prepared. The table was set and decorated two days before that and for a week before that we were pretty much snowed in.
So I was well organised and pretty calm about hosting Christmas day for thirteen family members, but there was one thing I hadn’t thought about. WHAT TO WEAR! My Nan asked whether I thought she could wear her new, quite glamorous purple dress, and Lilly had mentioned she was buying a new dress for the day too. I’d ran out of time.
As the hostess it’s only right that I should be the best dressed on the day but I could think of nothing I had to wear that was practical enough to cook in and would still look the part and I’d run out of time to buy anything new. A few glasses of wine and present wrapping till midnight on Christmas Eve took my mind off it.
There is a purple dress I have that is quite sweet and would have been fine to cook in but it just wasn’t doing it for me. I wanted to wear something a bit different, a bit more glamorous….. So I gave in to my cravings, got dressed and stepped downstairs to get Mr Country’s reaction. Wide-eyed and staggering he simply said: "You’re mad, you look lovely but you’re mad. I’m not going to say a word!"
What did I wear? A simple gold Ted Baker vest top, red sued high heels and my beautiful French Connection white trousers. Practical? Nope. Glamorous? YES. Did I feel good? Definitely. Did I cook a Christmas dinner for 13 including making my own cranberry sauce, and drink and eat all day without spilling a drop on the trousers?
Absolutely yes.
Now I call that a very white Christmas.
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