Secret Service Santa Stuff V

Check out the intro on the others. It's nearly Christmas. Celebrity chef, thank you letters, inept security operative, you knows the drill.

Dear Santa,

Thanks for the Christmas challenge – accepted. Two whole roast reindeer (in habanero pepper dry rub with garlic then dipped in hot-enough-to-defrost-Mrs-Santa-chilli-sauce) in one hour in the best pig-out joint in Lapland. Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Oh! wow! They are delicious. I want to marry you and have your elf babies. I hope that the new stomach lining I asked for will arrive next year, the old one is all but chillied-thru.

Yours,

A damn fine fella

Secret Service Santa Stuff IV

Another in this blog's devastating revelations about the minds and activities of the celebrity chef. The world quakes. Again the signature on this thank you letter to Santa was illegible, but there are hints in the text that it could be someone I actually admire enormously. We may never know.

Dear Santa,

Here at Rubber Cabbage the Yuletide feasting was as ever perfect, thanks in no small measure to you. How you got past the ham from my own pig smoking in the chimney is beyond me. We love that pig so much that we had its leg amputated under anasthetic and sent it hopping happily back to the wilds of my estate. Delicious.

I can’t thank you enough for my Nobel Prize for vegetables - common people on building sites and so on really should know about them.  

Throughout Christmas the log fire crackled in the background wherever we were, even the bathroom. Hundreds of friends dropped by for spontaneous private celebrations with special home-brewed drinks prepared by some of my serfs, hastily foraged truffles and so on, though they thought what I did was best. Happily by complete chance a camera crew was present to record it all.

Thanks again old chap,