I should now declare to everyone that is willing to listen that I have had some really bad New Year’s Eves. They range from the bizarre to the hilarious in retrospect but rather dismal on the night. There was the time when I went to Queen Viv’s house and came across her flatmate-a disagreeable beast who loathed me on sight. In the middle of dinner she took a shower, came out in a white bathrobe and then proceeded to get even more drunk and well you may know where this is headed…

There she was sitting on the chair stark naked under her bathrobe. Her arms were flailing and her bathrobe went askew with every gesture. Then the robe fell open with her sprawled legs and she pointed her lady parts at me while I tried to carry on a conversation with everyone else in the room while simultaneously facing away from them-not an easy thing to do. It has now been referred to as the “white bathrobe” incident. And this is apropos of nothing but the white bathrobe lady is an in-law of one of the biggest directors in the world today, and I have no doubt that he won’t be casting her in anything unless it is as “the hot mess”.

So you see I don’t hold much hope for New Year’s Eves. I thought of Queen Viv who told me last week that she finds it hard to stay awake. Well for me, I find it hard to drink since I am such a lightweight and really only like sweet alcoholic drinks. I thought of a way to cater to both of us-and that was with an espresso Kahlua granita served with ice cream. I found inspiration in one of the cookbooks I was sent over Christmas, the Kitchen Coquette. Knowing that espresso and Kahlua would help keep sleepy souls awake and keep sweet loving souls soused, it was an easy choice.

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Over the years Mr NQN has had to get used to me. When we first started dating he used to say “Do you have to get so dressed up?”. He is a country boy after all and there were mutterings of overdressing and I suspect too much makeup (although he was smart enough not to comment on that). There was the singing in public, the fact that I liked biting him because I thought he seemed tasty, the way that I’d enjoy my food a bit too much, the odd food that I’d make and the other strange things that I did that embarrassed him. Until one day he actually said to me

“Oh I like the way you used to dress”

This was of course after I had dressed more casually to try and not embarrass him. I looked at him and I smiled. Did he actually like me being me? Did I no longer embarrass him? Success! I had indoctrinated him into my world and he seemed to like it there (and a good thing because I don’t like having to do things any way but my own). Now he is used to shopping adventures where we travel to buy a good free range ham. He is used to buying bottles of root beer and pouring them over said ham. He is used to me inviting people over for food (he is naturally very shy and inviting people over just would not occur to him).

And speaking of that ham, this Christmas we were seeing  our families as we planned a small family dinner combining my family with Mr NQN’s. His family were all over the place (their natural state of affairs being chaos), and trying to find a date that suited everyone meant that Christmas was going to be on December 26th. I had to point out that December 26th was no longer technically Christmas so I invited whoever could come over to our place on December 24th for dinner. Christmas Eve is when the Finnish celebrate Christmas and this is when my family celebrates Christmas because quite honestly my sister and I couldn’t wait another night to open our presents and our parents just relented and it became tradition.

Aura Lily

Well it turns out that all of the family members could make it on December 24th after all (I guess it was that annual tradition of herding cats preceding Festivus that the Elliotts seem to delight in!). And suddenly our small family celebration burst out to a table for thirteen…around our table that seats 8! But not to worry, we had plenty of food. My ham was a 5 kilo beast-modest enough and covered in a crunchy, moreish breadcrumb crust and then basted in a flavoursome root beer caramel. I had made this many years ago before the blog and before Mr NQN and was so besotted by it that I vowed to make it again when I had a lot of mouths to feed. The ham is easy enough to do and just requires a basting every 30 minutes and then a coating of a breadcrumb crust. It is then baked and basted to glistening perfection before being sliced up with some of the breadcrumb mixture and the sweet, fragrant caramelised syrup.

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My family were rather strange eaters when we were growing up. My father wanted nothing more and nothing less than Cantonese food whereas the rest of my family and I craved other things. We’d watch ads on television where families sat down to roast dinners and vegetables and wistfully gaze at the images of families eating roast dinners wishing that one day we could try them.

Some days, and I suspect days when my parents just couldn’t be bothered putting up resistance, my sister and I were allowed to cook. And before you think I’m going to regale you with some tales of culinary prodigyness, let me assure you that the extent to what we would cook would be emptying out a tin of baby carrots and peas into a saucepan and then serving it with a coq au vin. A bizarre combination but with no blueprint to base it on, we were just thrilled that it wasn’t a Cantonese dish. There were no noses turned up at it from anyone, we all enjoyed the dishes, perhaps just for the novelty.

Whole nutmeg

I was at a friend’s house when I first tried eggnog. I had never had it before because my parents are of the thinking that alcohol is the first step to going to hell (I’m not kidding, follow this with some gambling and they’d likely institutionalise you ). My friend’s mother however, did not subscribe to that theory and I think that she loved the extra brandy kick she could get during the Christmas season to help her cope with two bratty girls. I tried the eggnog and was fascinated by it. I loved the flavours of nutmeg, brandy and rum and when she told me that it had raw egg in it (after I drank it), I was too far in love with it to reconsider my position. And it’s always a combination of flavours that puts me in the same mood as my friend’s mum-jolly under times of extreme stress. Sometimes you just have to find your joy when you can.

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