Cosy up with Alex Rushmer‘s celebration of the trashier side of festive food
As a chef I am aware, perhaps more than most, of the level of snobbery surrounding food at this most wonderful time of the year. The concept of ‘sourcing’ steps up to levels usually only reserved for those who ply their trade in professional kitchens, and the complexity of what we are expected to provide for our guests would doubtless make Escoffier break out in a cold sweat. Advertisers are acutely aware of this and from November we are pummeled with commercials pedalling products that appear to have been developed by the crazed offspring of Willy Wonka and St Nicholas himself.
Whilst there is a fairly solid argument for stretching the budget on Christmas Day to include a hand-raised turkey, sprouts grown by elves and potatoes roasted in the rich fat of an endangered bird, I think that for much of the rest of the month the food should be gloriously trashy and celebratory in a way that harks back to a simpler time, a time when we were concerned about impressing only those sat around the table and not those sat at the end of our social media feeds.
With that in mind, I am more than happy to admit to a yearning fondness for Paxo stuffing. It reminds me greatly of the woeful, but hugely enjoyable, school Christmas lunch offering that was a glorious precursor for the few weeks of feasting that were about to follow.
“Cheap brie paired with sickly sweet cranberry sauce, is a true essential”
It might taste slightly of dust and the medicinal tang that only dried sage can provide, but it also tastes of excitement and promise and the prospect of the entire family sat around the table, cousins and all. The same nostalgia pangs are caused by chunks of fried hot dog, or prinskorv as they are known in Sweden, where they are an obligatory part of the Christmas table.
I could go on: cheap brie, creamy and mild and paired with sickly sweet cranberry sauce, is a true essential. Spirals of smoked salmon and cream cheese are a wonderful reminder of 90s drinks parties held by friends of my parents. Smooth pâté of dubious origin and unnaturally pink hue. Pringles and Twiglets and Terry’s Chocolate Orange. A turkey crown cooked in its own foil packaging (serves 4-6, cook until dry). Bottles of pre-made Buck’s Fizz and overly sweet sherry.
All of these are equally worthy and, for most of us, should leave us feeling far more festive than any modern pretender, no matter how expensively sourced or carefully researched. Christmas is about revelling in the glory of the things that make you happy, edible memories of times past, guilt-free in every possible sense.
There are eleven other months to concern ourselves with the food that looks great on Instagram or sounds right when talked about in esteemed company, but for now, keep your handcrafted, fairly traded, artisan chocolate and pass the giant tub of Miniature Heroes, for there is much feasting to be done.
