(no subject)
Dec. 30th, 2012 04:12 pmWell, that went off very nicely.
The mighty Christmas joint (boned and rolled shoulder) of pork proved to be splendidly tender, and the crackling was crisp and crunchy (thanks, Delia). Roast potatoes and nips worked well, and the Proper Gravy, as made by Bun, was a triumph. I wish I'd remembered the apple sauce, but never mind—we had it with warmed-up leftovers in sandwiches on Boxing Day. Bread and butter pudding made with panettone for afters, and cheesecake on Boxing Day.
I have, sadly, discovered that I am an incompetent cookie-maker. Bun and I had a go at making American cookies—much more interesting than mince pies, as those are only sublime when made with my grandma's pastry, which is no longer available. The cookies taste nice, but they look… shall we say,like dog turds unfortunate.
My family have clued in to my inability to concentrate on anything so complex as a book these days, so I received an excellent selection of DVDs instead. And Beast did very well: a few days before Christmas, my watch stopped working. It was a cheap Timex, and had done fair service for its price. So Beast and I wandered into town together and I pointed out watches I liked and went somewhere else while he bought my Christmas present, because it's nice to have a surprise. And he picked the right one—the one I *really* liked. So I am now the happy owner of an oval-faced Seiko, which not coincidentally strongly resembles the one his parents gave me as a wedding present many years ago, which was stolen, to my great woe.
I have been rationing my consumption of MTYG stories, partly in order to be sociable—we have been playing board games together, which is nice (I win at Dixit and lose horribly at Monuments)—partly in order to make sure I can give each one thoughtful consideration, and partly in order to prolong the time when there are new popslash stories I haven't read yet. Which is a nice feeling. This year I may do actual recs, I think. I'm a bit sad not to have read more on-journal squee from recipients, and feedback seems a bit hard to come by. Perhaps people are still busy with Christmas?
And now the Brats have returned to Norwich. Which is nice, actually, although it was also nice to have them here. Trashy telly is so much more fun when you share it with somebody, and my Beast could not possibly be less interested, but Bun and I have a high tolerance for low programmes about bridalwear.
The mighty Christmas joint (boned and rolled shoulder) of pork proved to be splendidly tender, and the crackling was crisp and crunchy (thanks, Delia). Roast potatoes and nips worked well, and the Proper Gravy, as made by Bun, was a triumph. I wish I'd remembered the apple sauce, but never mind—we had it with warmed-up leftovers in sandwiches on Boxing Day. Bread and butter pudding made with panettone for afters, and cheesecake on Boxing Day.
I have, sadly, discovered that I am an incompetent cookie-maker. Bun and I had a go at making American cookies—much more interesting than mince pies, as those are only sublime when made with my grandma's pastry, which is no longer available. The cookies taste nice, but they look… shall we say,
My family have clued in to my inability to concentrate on anything so complex as a book these days, so I received an excellent selection of DVDs instead. And Beast did very well: a few days before Christmas, my watch stopped working. It was a cheap Timex, and had done fair service for its price. So Beast and I wandered into town together and I pointed out watches I liked and went somewhere else while he bought my Christmas present, because it's nice to have a surprise. And he picked the right one—the one I *really* liked. So I am now the happy owner of an oval-faced Seiko, which not coincidentally strongly resembles the one his parents gave me as a wedding present many years ago, which was stolen, to my great woe.
I have been rationing my consumption of MTYG stories, partly in order to be sociable—we have been playing board games together, which is nice (I win at Dixit and lose horribly at Monuments)—partly in order to make sure I can give each one thoughtful consideration, and partly in order to prolong the time when there are new popslash stories I haven't read yet. Which is a nice feeling. This year I may do actual recs, I think. I'm a bit sad not to have read more on-journal squee from recipients, and feedback seems a bit hard to come by. Perhaps people are still busy with Christmas?
And now the Brats have returned to Norwich. Which is nice, actually, although it was also nice to have them here. Trashy telly is so much more fun when you share it with somebody, and my Beast could not possibly be less interested, but Bun and I have a high tolerance for low programmes about bridalwear.