Rising to the occassion

Dear Ruth,


It's taken me all week to get absolutely nowhere, but I hope that the fruits of my effort today give you some hope. Although I didn't get going till 1pm... (it was a tough week last week, I spent the morning cleaning the kitchen properly, having hot drinks on the sofa, taking all the decorations off the tree because the lights were rubbish and putting much better lights on - I won't be judged just on the food).


So, this afternoon, I went on a mission. To the butcher, the greengrocer and the kitchen shop.


Yep, I had the meat talk. To recap, I had grand ideas of game, or at the least, goose. Anything but turkey. My mum rates my cooking so highly she reckons I should just go for beef. My sister won't have anything but turkey. And conversations with my brother have led to a Turducken suggestion. Which can only be 3 birds in 1. I hope. Oh, and I have a veggie sister in law too. Butcher couldn't help me with that. Sent me to the grocers.


But before I left I got all the advice on prices and birds that I needed and have now made my decision...I'll be making the order first thing tomorrow. Once it's in, I'll no doubt be coming back with a cry for help saying 'what have I done'?!


Anyway, at the grocers they kindly offered to save me a celeriac if I wanted one. There's service for you. And then I picked up my red cabbage. I'd forgotten just what a cracking looking veg this is, once you peel back the leathery exterior. It took me to some place else, where I'd seen it in such glory, but I couldn't quite recall straight away.


So finally to the cook shop. You'd be proud. Not only did I get a pastry brush and cookie cutters for the pies, I got a knife. A proper, must keep it sharp, must dry it straight after washing, must stare at it in awe at least once a day:

Isn't she gorgeous?


I have to say though, I've never cut apples up in such fear, this is one sharp mistress, one slip and your pinkies are off.


Ok, so you've seen my roasties, now for the steaming hot braised cabbage. In a timing issue, I realised that it was either use the oven for 3 hours for cabbage, and eat roast dinner at 10pm, or find another way with the cabbage (at this point I texted you for emergency help - thank you for your reply to pop them on the stove top).


Two and a half hours steaming in the vinegar and sugar, apple and onion juice and a generous helping of port, (yes I added all the port) out popped a gorgeously fragrant mix:

After tasting, I think another half hour would have been good for them. It was very tasty, but very crunchy still. Not that that's a bad thing actually. This was the first time I'd ever cooked red cabbage. Lovely stuff and I can only assume it's good for me. An aphrodisiac no doubt.


But...


...in our family, you can be forgiven for ruining most things. Screw up the yorkshires though and there is trouble. There is a lot resting on your 'made from scratch recipe'. I'm all for putting Aunt Bessie back in her northern box and was very excited as the recipe seems easy. Followed to the letter and considering your Jamie 'splash it in' Oliver approach to quantities, I just poured in the amount I thought would be right. Let's just say, with yorkshires, size matters:

I have to say, I will be going to sleep very happy indeed. I may have put a dash too much juice in the bun tin but they were mighty fine. All of it went superbly with my roast chicken, which is one dish I am confident with, so all in all I think I can do this. 


So tomorrow, I'll let you know the meat. I need stuffing, gravy and a veg main idea and then I think your little apprentice is ready to be tested...


Oh, and I remembered where I first saw the beauty of red cabbage, standing out against all that green. A kebab shop.


Yours highly satisfied


Tom