Not for us this year. Salmon is on the menu, plus some local caught crab, lobster and shellfish. The crab and lobster are being prepared by the fisherman as we shall only balls it up and make it tough. No oysters as they come up quicker than they go down even if they are cooked. I shall be making my scotch eggs today as it has somehow got to be a bit of a tradition in this house and all the kids have put in their order.
Bartlett pears are only eaten here at xmas as the smell is a childhood memory of when they were scarce and a food parcel would arrive from my father who always seemed to be abroad in the marines. Malaya I think. The smell, taste and a drink of syrup just takes me back to my wooden fort which was flat packed in the parcel after being made in his spare time and accompanied with lead soldiers and instuctions on how to assemble.
Another taste and smell was tangerines. There would always be one in the stocking when we woke up along with monkey nuts and home made sugar mice. We would be up early while it was still dark, clear the ice from the window all start shouting there was snow on the lawn only to find out later it was frost.
Xmas breakfast always semed to be bread and dripping and we were allowed to open the xmas cards which often had five bob postal orders in from distant relatives. It seemed ages until we were allowed into the front room for the wrapped presents. Everybody seemed to have a front room that was only used on special occasions. A nice rug on the floor, china cabinet, posh three piece suite and the tree loaded with tiny presents that were shared out on new years eve when the tree was stripped and planted in the garden. Home made paper chains hung across the ceiling cotton wool snow stuck to the windows and holly gathered from the woods.
Play with the presents all morning then a huge xmas dinner usually chicken, after that it was all silent for the Kings speech on the radio which seemed to go on for ages, but it must have been traitorist not to listen as even the posh kids dressed in cowboy suits out on their new bikes and scooters went in to listen. Tea followed with the barlett pears and jelly. A slice of xmas cake and up to bed while the neighbours came in and the brown ale and sherry started flowing. We would sit behind the banisters listening to all the chat until we got tired then slip into bed and fall asleep, twisting and turning all night on scratchy bits of peanut shells that seemed to get everywhere from eating them in bed xmas morning.
