Don't Trim the Trimmings

I wrote a post the other day about a sprout not being just for Christmas, and this one is along the same lines - why should bread sauce only appear on December 25th, never to be seen again for the rest of the year?

I'm not sure if this is about leftovers - though the crumbs now waiting to be added to steeping milk were from a roll past its best - or about making the ordinary special with a bit of forethought. Today's main meal is to be roast chicken, with a few if not all the trimmings: gravy made from the meat juices, stuffing (cooked on its own not in the bird), and the bread sauce. I'll make roast potatoes too, with the fat skimmed off some beef stock as part of the cooking medium.

There is a pleasing continuity in this, with that beef stock and thus fat made from a previous roast; the use of the ageing roll; and the promise of chicken and bread sauce sandwiches tomorrow if as expected neither element is finished today.

Of course there is nothing wrong with throwing together a stir-fry when time is tight, or if it takes your fancy. But when as on a cold January Sunday one has time aplenty why not think ahead? A case in point is the milk brought to a near boil with a quartered onion and four bay-leaves, plus a chip or two of nutmeg (my bread sauce favours those flavours over the more traditional cloves) and some peppercorns, then removed from the heat to infuse for several hours. There will be glazed carrots, started a good hour before we sit down to eat. And the roast spuds, parboiled to near-doneness well before they are to be finished in a super-hot oven as the chicken rests.

Our Sunday is far from empty - two of us working, one doing homework, and various leisure pursuits pursued. Some in that position would rather graze, trying to fit more activities into an amorphous day (and avoiding others in the house). A Torygraph article yesterday (I became a convert to their crossword if not their politics during the MPs' expenses scandal) also made once more the obvious point that those eating together are likely to be healthier - grazing fodder not famed for its balance and nutrition. Sitting down together over our main meal (as we already did over brunch) punctuates the day, provides structure, and is in itself leisure. And we eat well.

Alternative Austerity Christmas

Not sure how alternative or austere this really is, but Lidl have frozen goose breast in stock, enough meat to feed four, and so rich that it really does fill you up. You'll not have much meat left over afterwards as it isn't a huge slab - is that a plus or a minus? I bought one for about £8, which is a fraction of what a turkey crown sets you back (am sure of that as I just bought a free-range one of those too from M&S as it was the best I have seen). Will cook both on the day, and with a bit of careful timing have the goose fat in which to make crispy roast spuds (saving £2.40 or so for a jar of that marvellous stuff). The goose breast must be lifted above the dish in which it roasts, to let the fat drip off and keep the meat out of it, otherwise you end up eating something like meaty lard (mmmmm, meaty lard - Homer).

Lidl is excellent for continental stuff like this - their chorizo is really good, and cheaper than other supermarkets, parmesan is actually the best packet version I've found and is cheap too, and they sometimes have pheasant at bargain prices. Pheasant always stewed or braised btw, I am yet to eat a roast pheasant that was worth the effort. I'm happy to shop in slightly less cheerful surroundings for such savings, though they could do with improving their veg, not often tempting enough.

As regards pheasant, I have childhood memories of my father occasionally being given a brace which he would hang in the garage. Once he went further than was sensible, the result (or one mouthful) being perhaps the vilest thing I ever ran to the toilet to spit out.