How To Take The Stress Out Of Christmas PLR Ebook

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Chapter 6 - Christmas Dinner

One year, I wanted to have what I called a “Victorian Christmas.” I watched “A Christmas Carol” once too often and decided I wanted to replicate the goose, the plum pudding and the whole bit. I invited not only my family, but my husband’s family to dinner.

In our area, we had turkeys at the stores so I had to go to a butcher for the goose. I ordered it beforehand and on Christmas eve I picked it up. He gave me explicit instructions on how to cook it, which I promptly forgot the minute I walked out of his store.

I also purchased plum pudding in a can and hard sauce to go with it. Being an American, I had no idea what plum pudding was or that it had to be cooked. I envisioned myself with a fully cooked goose, all the trimmings and last but not least, bringing out a flaming plum pudding with the holly stuck in it for all to gasp in awe.

This was my first Christmas cooking as a bride. My parents and grandmother came over to help. I insisted that the goose only needed 20 minutes to cook. My grandmother said this was impossible, but hey, what did she know? She had only been cooking for 60 years. I made an orange sauce that came out of a recipe book that my mother had to keep stirring. I made stuffing. I made potatoes and vegetables. I had egg nog and even caviar an imported cheeses. It was sort of an upscale Victorian Christmas.

I also had plenty of liquor and the egg nog was spiked. And it was a good thing, too. Because when dinner was finally announced (at the dining room that had been immaculately set) that goose was raw. I had a house full of people and no main course.

Fortunately, they all had plenty to drink beforehand and no one noticed as I tossed the raw goose into the trash. Victorian Christmas was still coming, though. After we ate our vegetarian Christmas dinner, I rose to get the plum pudding. I didn’t realize that I had to cook it and had no idea how to do this. So that went in the trash, too. Fortunately, someone brought over a pie. When it was all over, my in laws stumbled out the door and we actually laughed about this.

Over the years, I have learned to cook poultry and have made some splendid Christmas dinners. I even replicated the “Victorian Christmas” the next year, but my in-laws begged off. The goose was cooked this time, but I didn’t care for it - it was too greasy. The plum pudding was like fruitcake and not to my liking at all. I stopped the idea of the “perfect” Christmas and cooked stuff that my family liked.

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