Further prepared
It is becoming more and more obvious. My role in this whole pageant of the Christ Mass is to make sure the cast is fed, copiously and in variety. My bird surrounded by some potatoes will not suffice.
To be fair, the potatoes in question will be yellow. There is a rainbow of potatoes out there; from the blues of my grandfather, through the reds and whites (avoiding the greens, which are rumoured to contain a deadly poison) up to the magical fried potato found only at Cavendish farms. We will dine on Yukon Golds, which are as rare in local stores as the metal itself.
A few geese have been called into the game plan, in order to provide several varieties of foie gras on small crackers during the Reveillon. You see, I live in a bicultural environment. We will also serve up at least one can of “atokas” which wear the identity of cranberry elsewhere; think Superman and Clark Kent. I have been asked to purchase whole berry in preference to gellied/jellied (spelling may vary according to which company provides the canning process). Think bogs and you can’t go wrong.
The cheese plate will depend upon someone else – my knowledge starts and stops at the Cheddar Shoppe. All the other million varieties, each more expensive and rare than the next, are probably good, but I cannot remember cheese names for more than thirty seconds, so the task has been handed off to the cooking school graduate.
My magical throwaway tin pan is safely stored on a high shelf, away from the dog that likes to retrieve shiny objects. A hole or two in the pan bottom will be important, come the oven run on Monday.
If someone remembers to buy some milk then the holiday will proceed.
