Family Invasion.
Check.
Food prep in West London. 5 courses being prepared and 7 bottles of champagne consumed. First Bottle: Krug. Second bottle: Vintage Bollinger. Third Bottle: Ohlson de Fine MCC. Similar fashion to continue until all involved pass out drunk at 10pm; starchy fingers marking the sheets with potato dust.
Check.
Christmas Eve dinner party in formal wear with more champagne, roast marrow bone and tiny, perfect portions of confit duck shepherds pie. Unfortunate incident involving mulled wine reduction that looked like blood on the dessert plates. 100% my fault. I’ve been stripped of my pastry colours.
Check.
Vicious, brutal to the point of injury game of Yankee swap. Robin ended up with a maglite. Shelley got a Jamie Oliver cookbook. I was landed with a pink plastic shower cap in the shape of a pig. Gift FAIL.
Check.
Cheese scones on Christmas morning surrounded by cups of coffee, family and mountains on presents. End of the gift fail. Signature scent in pink box, rabbit hair oversized jerseys, zippo lighters, luxurious soft bed socks, Massimo Dutti sleep sets.
Check.
Christmas lunch at Kyle and Amy’s Christmas grotto of a living room. It was like a holly jolly santa ate too many Christmas cookies and exploded in there. In a nice way. Incredible gammon. Lots of wine. Feeling a bit sad about not being with my parents, brother and sister and upon (rather unexpectedly) seeing photos of them, bursting into floods of tears and dealing with an unattractive lip quiver for several hours. Followed by more wine.
Check.
Boxing day with puy lentils and pork chops, wine and old musicals. There was a lot of couching involved. See also: Sofa surfing, sloth, indolence. Inability to button up my Acne jeans.
Check.
Retreating to the countryside for the black hole between Christmas and New Years Eve. Marshmallow couches, listening to far too much Queen, drinking copious quantities of red wine and dancing to said music in the living room, rare roast rib of beef, The AGA, house shoes, teaching the parents about Jurassic 5.
All in all it was a festive season well spent. Tomorrow morning I must traipse back to London at a reasonable hour as I have a gig tomorrow night. And then, this year will be gone. See you all in 2010. xoxo
No comments:
Post a Comment