Oh my god – it's that one day in the year – when the Reindeer Christmas Onesie gets squeezed into – ooouuuccchhhh, it says indignantly. Tends to stay done up for the taking of one photo only, before I get 'too ho-t' and it gets partially unzipped and tied round my waist. My, how slim and lovely I look then.
Swiftly followed by cooking enough lunch for 8 people and having a bloody good go at eating it all ourselves..
Of course, eventually followed (after a bit of digestion and sprout release) by H setting fire to his Xmas pudding with vast waterfalls of brandy.
My dessert choice was again fucked up by Heston B – why do I fall every year for the crap he sells in Waitrose? £16 later, all I had was a vast pile of melted cold profiterole style green 'sprouts', revealed by pouring caramel sauce on a hard green shell – even I couldn't pretend they tasted nice. Must have "MUG' tattoed on my forehead before next Christmas..
And yet a Happy Christmas was very much had by us both.
x
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to be fair I would have gone for those profiterole sprouts had they been in stock. His black forest pannetone was quite good but still a good chunk of it left. I feel sick from over-consumption…