Puddings for tomorrow are well underway. I’ve poached the pears in red wine, as you can see they are cooling by the kitchen door; the chestnuts are roasted and peeled in preparation for a chocolate and chestnut cake; four clementines are bobbing and simmering away at this very moment for yet another clementine and almond cake; a vast bowl of more clementines and a slightly smaller dish of walnuts and dates are perched on the makeshift shelf. The kitchen smells wonderful and I’m feeling so uncharacteristically organised that I might just have to have a large gin and tonic to celebrate.
Tomorrow night we will be 14 I think, in our very very small flat. I’ve bought a vast piece of pork which will spend a large chunk of tomorrow in the oven, we have nice salami and tuscan bread to start and then I’ll make mashed potato and braised red cabbage to go beside the slow roasted pork. I will resist the urge to panic cook anything else, simple is best, I know that (and often forget that), nothing new, nothing fancy or fussy, I want to enjoy the evening too. Oh, wait, there is one more thing, I’ll cook some lentils to eat after midnight. Its traditional to eat lentils at New Year in Italy, they’re a symbol of good luck and prosperity, their round shape, like tiny coins, is supposed to ensure riches and prosperity for the coming year.
I should go and make the cakes really, then get started on the red cabbage which is better after a night’s rest.
So, Happy New Year to you all. Thank you for reading, thank you for all the companionship that exists on these pages. Heres to health and happiness and good food thoughtfully made for everyone. I hope to break real bread with some of you this coming year.