Eddie’s Food Grievances: What Will ‘We’ Cook for Christmas?
Adeline (nickname: Eddie) loves food—lots of it, often, both at home and out. Usually, that goes well, but sometimes it doesn’t. In the series Eddie’s Food Grievances you can read about the latter. This time: the million-dollar question at Christmas.
It’s maddening enough that every day you have to figure out what you’re going to eat (I made my case about that here), but one meal truly surpasses everything. What am I saying, one? If you’re unlucky, there are three.
People, we need to talk about Christmas dinner. What you eat at Christmas is more or less your family’s identity. It’s a genuine image, one that’s hard to shake. Hadn’t thought of it that way?
What shall ‘we’ cook?
Just pay attention. You have the family that, dressed in comfortable clothes, huddles around the fireplace and dips bread on a fork into cheese fondue. You have the group of friends, decked out in glitter from head to toe, partying away in the holiday home with a gourmet set (hear hear). You have the starched tablecloth where a mousse, foam or bouillon appears every half hour. You have the mother who, after 364 days of whining, has had enough of the whole thing and runs off to a restaurant.
See? What you eat at Christmas says more about you than you think.
And keep basting that thing
If you’re unlucky, there’s a fanatic in the family who starts mulling this over as early as October. “Oh guys, fun. What shall we cook?” The annoying thing is that when Christmas is at your place, ‘we’ don’t cook anything at all—you’re the one slaving away in the kitchen over what is probably an impossible roast. One that needs a temperature probe stuck into it by the butcher, because otherwise there’s no way to tell whether it’s done. And keep basting that thing. Sure, that starter and dessert people brought along are nice, but of course ‘we’ don’t consider that a fair contribution. No.
Pizza on Boxing Day
Then there’s the question of which day you’re assigned in the Christmas madness. First of all, there’s always one person in your inner circle who immediately claims Christmas Day. The annoying thing is that Boxing Day always loses out to Christmas Day. Because either you’ve already eaten something like it, or you’re so stuffed that it tastes just a little less good. By now you’ve been gorging yourself on Christmas Eve, had an elaborate breakfast, and, if you’re unlucky, lunch and a full dinner too.
I even know people who always order pizza on Boxing Day because they can’t face anything complicated anymore. And there you are, thinking since October about what ‘we’ are going to cook.
Out of the frying pan
Suddenly I think back to that one Christmas when my mother said: fuck it, I’m just cooking Italian. Only now do I see how well thought-out and smart that was. With a little effort, the food is fairly easy to digest (vitello!), and there really isn’t a soul in the Netherlands who cooks Italian at Christmas. Prego prego, but don’t all suddenly start pretending to be Italian in the kitchen, okay? Because then next year we’ll be (literally) back in the frying pan, wondering what on earth we’re supposed to cook again.
Read also:
- Eddie’s Food Grievances: those people who like nothing
- Why some people shouldn’t be allowed to use a self-checkout
- The grossest restaurant dining scene ever
