Christmas Dinner was Disgusting

... but a festively appointed place setting appeases the guest.

Of course, none of the guests said so, but I'm sure they were just being gracious.

Beef wellington--soggy, pasty, bland.
Green beans--greasy.
Potatoes--bland, underdone.

Every time I open the refrigerator, a pungent odor of shallots makes me close the door again, my appetite spoiled. The scent of meat, grease, bacon clings in the air.

You truly are what you eat, and I just don't eat that way at home.

M and I laughed about it over the phone last night, and then I took an oath to destroy all remnants of Christmas Dinner. I feel bad for wasting food, but you might not understand how disgusting and distasteful the leftovers are.

Today I will return to sanity and make up a big batch of my fantastic very vegetable chicken soup. You should get the recipe from me: it's quick, easy, chock full of good veggies such as chard or other greens, Brussels Spouts, leeks, etc., and tastes delicious every time. Only takes about 20 minutes to make.

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A word on haggis. I know what you're saying, I don't want a big dollop of it on my plate either. However, this batch was wonderfully spiced and served in little filo triangles. It was amazing. Besides, when in Rome....

By the way, in Scotland I went to a whiskey tasting. It was held in a whiskey shop--not as a special event, mind you, but as part of their regular business. All the whiskeys were out on a table--free to the taster. It was very peaty stuff and reminded me of licking a dirty ashtray (not that I would know, of course). Joy. And the taste lingers on the tongue for hours.

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Here's Puck. He's gone awfully quiet in the house, so I'll withdraw to find out what he's into.

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Almost forgot. Assigned seats went great. R noticed it right off the bat, saying loudly to the room, "Don't just sit anywhere you want, you know, there's a specific place for everyone."

Then, at dinner, I apologized to M's 28-year-old son for having to put him at the kids' table, seeing that he's hardly a child anymore, and R chimed in "Well, I may as well be at the kids' table."

I simply smiled.

Break Bread

Had to call a coworker yesterday. He was altered--drunk? stoned? Yuck. Anyhow, he asked me what I want for Christmas. I told him, "Nothing really. How about a million dollars?"

He said, "No, seriously. What do you really want for Christmas."

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I have much to be thankful for.

I have a great job. Just got a promotion. I have a nice roof over my head. I have friends, family, love. I have it all. Life is good.

Top Three Christmases:

Christmas 2008. Christmas at home with M. I am truly happy. Life is great. I am in love.

Christmas 2005. Christmas in Scotland with A. Morning jog in Edinburgh; scrumptious English breakfast then fabulous Goose dinner with root vegetables and haggis; colored paper crowns; cigarettes.

Christmas 1998. First Christmas with B (who taught me the joy of Christmas). Vince Guaraldi's "A Charlie Brown Christmas"; my first tree; flannel dog pyjamas.

Power Hungry Christmas

This blog was inspired by Stickybeak.

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I'm hosting Christmas dinner this year. Feeding 14. My family, what few there are, won't be in attendance, but M's family will, along with a few single friends we each have.

I know Christmas is four days away, but I set the table today: polished the silver, washed the china, decorated the table with poppers and hats and confetti, figured out who gets which plates and glasses, since I don't have a set of 14 of anything.

I decided to assign seats, so I set out working on the seating chart this afternoon and then made fancy place cards to make it official.

I felt quite devilish,using my power to put people wherever and next to whomever I pleased. My goal in dictating who sits where is twofold: first, to subtly punish R for his drunken and appalling behavior out at dinner the other nigh (I've put him so close to the "children's table" that he might as well be sitting at it) and, second, to keep him as far as possible from booze and lively conversation--easily accomplished by putting him between his wife and his 11-year-old daughter.

Very satisfying, indeed.