Seven Days of Sunday
It's a funny old week, the one between the Eves of Christmas and New Year's - or, as I like to call it: "Seven Days of Sunday" - the dichotomy of having ample free time, yet wasting precious hours worrying that you're not taking full advantage of it.
If you're in the Northern Hemisphere, days are short, nights are long, turkey, ham, and/or pine needles, end up in everything. Here in the Southern, sleepy sunshine lulls you into a false sense of awakeness, which, coupled with sticky summer nights, knocks out any semblance of a regular sleep-cycle deep into January. Also, prawns... So many prawns.
It's also a week, as food writer Bee Wilson notes in an article for the WSJ that's well worth giving a squiz, where people who spend the year smashing protein bars and counting calories (and/or coinage), give food - and cooking - the time and reverence it may otherwise not score at other points of the year.
Surely part of this emphasis is based on the very spectacle of entertaining a crowd. For an afternoon (or evening), our choicest morsels are on show, for our nearest and dearest, breath baited for the 'oohs' and 'aahs' that only a spectacular seasonal spread can yield.
Yet I also think about the ritual of remembrance that accompanies this time, the emotive impact of nanna's favourite stuffing recipe, or a late aunt's pav. We're reminded of the transformative nature of food and cooking - the multi-sensory experience of shopping, stirring, serving, scoffing - and, most importantly, sharing.
Who knows how many people's life trajectories travel towards foodier shores thanks to a well-received Festive Bring-a-Plate (or BAP for short!)?
Thinking back to the first Christmas lunch where I braved the Bringing, some fifteen years or so ago - a very Anglo affair at a former boyfriend's, complete with Yorkshire puddings and gravy, glazed ham, and a properly magical pudding for dessert. I'd BAP-ed a big bowl of roasted pumpkin and feta salad, with pistachios and baby spinach, bejewelled with pomegranate seeds and a sticky balsamic. The comfort and joy (pun intended) experienced at having the salad - ergo the self - accepted and appreciated, surely went some way towards my own, ongoing, "journey" of BAPs, both physically and metaphorically speaking.
Now, speaking of...
If You're That Way Inclined
Listen to: I think what makes Alec Baldwin's Here's The Thing podcast generally excellent is his ability to disarm his guests, and he's at his best when speaking to creatives from his neck of the woods. I loved A Visit to Barbara Streisand's place, melted over Ben & Jerry, and especially enjoyed being a fly-on-the-wall for his piano-side sojourn with The Piano Man, Billy Joel.
Watch: I don't know what possessed me to try to explain the appeal of Nailed It! to Nigella, live on stage, and did a terrible job (pretty sure I lost her at "Trump Cake"). BUT! I feel like their new Holiday Special is undeniably good viewing, even if you're not usually a fan of competitive cooking shows. What sets this one apart from others in the genre, is how unashamedly crappy these people are at baking, yet unwaveringly eager to give it a go, with the kind of results that genuinely bring a tear to the eye and leave you breathless with laughter, yet filled with hope, because everyone - including the contestants themselves - is in on the joke.
Cook: I'm using the term "cook" very loosely here, because, like a lot of my favourite kinds of "cooking", a lot of the work's done in the shop. Mango season is upon us in earnest, and the heady scent of these golden tropical orbs is everywhere. After Christmas is the best time to pick up a couple of trays for cheap (especially on a Sunday afternoon), slice off the cheeks, scoop out with a spoon and portion up into zip-lock bags. Freeze, then whizz in a blending contraption of your choice, for 1-ingredient Mango Sorbet that is streets ahead of the store-bought stuff. Follow your nose, and choose the slightly overripe ones (they're easier to scoop and often cheaper).
Read: I really resonate with Tim Ferriss' advice for New Year's Resolutions: forgedaboudid. Instead, make a Year in Review Doc, read it back, and then do more of the stuff that fills up your cup, and less of the stuff that makes you feel like shiitake. His version's slightly more articulate.
Remember: This one's a special Guest Request from our first-born, Leopold Tolstoy, to remind anyone with pets that NYE Fireworks Are The Actual Worst, so please make sure you have a reassuring chat to them and secure the premises if you're headed out. If you're staying in, try to offer them some swaddling (a blanket or thunder-vest) or some form of den to hide in (a table, a desk, a crate, even) and give them a big cuddle from me (also, Leopold). Here're some more tips via RSPCA.
Wishing you and yours a safe and happy new year, and look forward to chatting again in 2019.
Cheerio!
A - Z.