Christmas With A Bang
Alice wanted their family dinner to be just perfect…
“Why have you bought a turkey?” Tom asked as he unpacked the shopping bags. “Mum is bringing beef – we don’t need poultry, too.”
“But what if the weather turns nasty and your parents can’t get here?” Alice replied. “We’d have no meat for Christmas dinner.”
“No worries on that score.” Tom laughed as he chucked packets of sausages and bacon in the freezer. “The weather forecast looks fine, and you’ve bought enough to feed an army…”
Alice sighed. Maybe she had gone a bit over the top with the grocery shopping but since agreeing to cook The Meal of the Year, she couldn’t think straight.
She hated cooking, was useless at it.
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Simple, basic foods were her limit and she had off days even with those.
Even her signature dish was hit and miss. Mostly, it was perfect, yet sometimes it was a soggy mess.
Tom’s parents had never spent Christmas day at Alice and Tom’s place, something he wanted to rectify.
“We go to their house every year: we should invite them here.”
While Alice agreed with her husband, she dreaded cooking for her in-laws.
Moira possessed the combined skills of Nigella, Delia, and Mary: her parsnips were soft and golden, the gravy lump-free, roast potatoes were crisp on the outside and fluffy in the middle.
Her bread rose, jam set, and pastry crumbled.
She’d even appeared on a TV cookery show called The Eggs Factor! She made Alice feel inferior about her lack of culinary skills, albeit unintentionally.
Alice had started fretting over The Big Day some time ago now. What if the meal was a disaster?
She couldn’t risk cooking beef: it always came out leathery, “like a rugby ball without the bounce,” according to Tom the last time she tried.
“I’ll buy a turkey,” she decided. “I’ll get up early on Christmas morning and shove it in the oven. Turkey is easier to cook than beef, and if it’s already browning when Moira arrives, I can plead forgetfulness, say I’d forgotten about her bringing a joint…”
But Tom finding the turkey had ruined that plan.
Wrapping a few presents, Alice prayed for snow.
If snow fell on Christmas morning, Moira and Joe’s journey 80-mile would be impossible.
Driving up on Christmas Eve and staying overnight wasn’t an option as Moira was hosting a buffet for Joe’s family on Christmas Eve.
“Rather her than me,” Alice remarked. “It’s quite bad enough doing the main meal for four. I want Christmas to go with a bang,” she added. “But you know what my cooking is like…”
“There’s nothing wrong with your cooking,” Tom said. “And Christmas dinner is only a glorified roast…”
A glorified roast! What did he know?
Last Christmas, at Moira’s, everything had been perfect: home-made bread and cranberry sauces, a selection of stuffings, after-dinner cherries-in-brandy.
“I can’t compete with Moira.”
“Nobody expects you to. Christmas is about families enjoying being together. Mum is bringing the beef, ready to cook, because she doesn’t want you stressing over the meal – and neither do I…”
“Happy Christmas – it’s such a relief to have a day off cooking,” Moira said as she handed over the beef wrapped in tinfoil.
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Alice placed it in a dish and set the oven temperature as Moira instructed. She’d already peeled the vegetables and the Yorkshire pudding batter was resting in the fridge.
The Christmas pudding, an expensive plum-and-brandy mixture from the supermarket, was steaming gently on the hob. Everything was under control. What could possibly go wrong?
Alice went to join her guests for a glass of sherry.
“I’ll just go and check on dinner,” she said, thirty minutes later.
Lifting the dish from the oven, she expected to inhale the delicious smell of roasting beef.
But something was wrong…
She opened the tin foil…
Then she closed it again and chucked the package in the bin.
“Do you need any help?” Moira called.
“No thanks, everything is fine,” Alice replied as she grabbed the Yorkshire pudding batter from the fridge…
An hour later, she carried a beautiful toad-in-the-hole to the table.
“Wow, that batter looks really crispy,” Tom said as he arranged a festive napkin over his knees. “You’ve excelled with your signature dish today!”
“It looks lovely,” Moira agreed. “But where’s the beef?”
“In the bin. I think it may have gone off in the car,” Alice replied nervously.
“I told you to turn the heater down.” Joe turned to Moira. “It was on full blast all the way here.”
“Well, I’m sorry but I just couldn’t get warm,” Moira said. “It’s cold enough for snow, you know.”
Tom pulled a cracker with his mum, and they put on party hats.
“You’ve done us proud,” Joe told Alice as he poured the wine.
“Cheers!” Tom lifted his glass, and then speared a sausage with his fork.
“Forget Christmas going with a bang,” he said, taking a bite. “This one’s going with a banger!”
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