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This week has been a good one for food. Thanks to non-traditional (or at least not traditionally British) Christmas dinners, I’ve had five different meats over the last three days, if you’ll indulge my reference to pork loin and gammon as different things.
And I’ve two days running had my ideal Christmas – sod presents, decorations and all that, my Christmas consists of three things in chronological order:
1) Working my arse off in the kitchen
2) Eating far too much
3) Drinking various alcoholic things while lying back in a comfy chair and chatting to friends and family.
I think this might make me an old man, or a father, or something. Fetch me my pipe and slippers.
At this point, I’d also like to thank my stomach for its performance. Tuesday night saw me vomiting copiously and drinking Lemsip, by Wednesday night I was shovelling stilton, Rioja and brandy down my throat with no ill effects at all. Yay!
Multi-bird roast desire this year: 78% and rising.