That Damn Turkey

Turkey curry with kale

The moaning about turkey precedes the turkey (in this house anyway). Serious foodies in general love to turn their noses up. It's trendy to cook goose, duck, beef Wellington. Anything but turkey. It used to be anything but Chardonnay.

I must admit I succumbed to (the moaning) last year. I went off and bought a piece of organic roast beef that was as tasteless and joyless as quark. I bought a piece of housekeepers cut recently in Aldi for €6 (6 times cheaper than the organic lump). It beat the organic lump under the table and over again. I learned.

This year I bought a small turkey. I saw where it was reared. I saw what it was fed. I was happy about 90% of it's feed, just not the GM stuff. It's not easy to find a bird that had the freedom to gallop about a field and fed the way I would (makes mental note to rear my own next year).

So apart from the stress of cooking the damn thing for Christmas day or Christmas eve (as I do), when you don't taste it until the next day. I have to say I made a turkey curry to die for and cold turkey sandwiches that were almost better than (well you know).

I have a litre of really reduced stock in the fridge and the dogs got the meat off the bones.

Turkey, ham and stuffing with homemade garlic mayo on sourdough

 I have to admit. I'm a turkey.

But you probably knew that.

Just Dad

This photo taken on Christmas Day. Red on red. He had fallen asleep holding a cup of tea and it had spilled all down his front. When I arrived at the nursing home the carers were taking him down to his room to change him. They all had Santa hats on and were laughing and joking. They talked to him but he couldn't understand them. I can see how even now he reads their body language. He's a bit deaf and they speak English with heavily accented Asian, Philipino and Eastern European accents. All the Irish staff were obviously off.

When I walk in the spark of recognition is there. The usual question "how did you know I was here?"

This was our first Christmas he wasn't "with us."In truth he hasn't been with us for a long time now (thanks to dementia/Alzheimer's) but at least we knew he was at home.

They put on some Christmas carols and the residents dozed off after their Christmas dinners.

He had no idea it was Christmas.

Every time I drive away I wonder will it be the last time.

Tiramisu - Pick me Up

Tiramisu or Pick me Up (translated) is an Italian dessert. More often than not, in Italy, it doesn't contain any alcohol. Personally, I think it's the kick that makes it. I've tried all sorts of alcohol but have decided that Martinique rum is the business in it.

I loosely follow a Nigella recipe but as I hate wastage, I always use both egg whites. My daughter makes it every Christmas as she doesn't like plum pudding.

Tiramisu recipe

2 x 250g packs of Marscapone
2 free range organic eggs
75g sugar
200g sponge fingers
4 tablespoons of Martinique rum
1 small cup of strong coffee (never instant, that's not coffee)

In a suitable bowl or dish, lay out the sponge fingers. Make the coffee and add the rum. Pour the mixture evenly over all the sponge fingers.

Separate the eggs. In one bowl whisk the egg yolks and sugar. Gradually add in the Marscapone. In another bowl whisk the egg whites. When they are firm fold into the Marsapone mix using a metal spoon. Spread this over the sponge fingers and dust with cocoa powder through a sieve.

Leave to set for a couple of hours in fridge.

*Always use eggs you are confident in. You are eating them raw.
*Always use real coffee.