Finger-Licking Dog Treats

If there is one thing for certain, it is that nothing is certain when it comes to creating the annual menu for Christmas Day Dinner, with a capital “D.” Christmas Eve dinner, on the other hand, is a no-brainer: pizza. Always was; always will be. There is never any argument about that. 

One of the wise men is obviously posing for
the camera.

It has been suggested that it is remotely possible that I am still suffering residual effects from being served liver one Christmas Eve, on Fellowship Street, growing up. Feeling as though I had been personally betrayed, it was almost enough to derail Christmas for me.

The Big Day, however, is not as simple as pizza. Last year I wrote about our menu choice, in a piece entitled “Saurbraten.” It was a tribute to the German side of the family, to take a nice cut of beef, and spend three days marinading it, before roasting and serving it on Christmas Day. It was out of this world.  http://markyswrite.blogspot.com/2016/12/sauerbraten.html

This year I ran paella (pie-ay-ya) up the flagpole, to see if I could get a salute out of Gluten-Free Mama. Paella is a Spanish dish, in which chicken, chorizo sausage, shrimp and prosciutto (Italian ham) are combined with rice and other ingredients, to create a savory concoction that is scrumptious. 

When it comes right down to it, you can combine any ingredients you want. We have pulled this dish off in the past, but GF Mama nixed it for this year, saying, “There’s no way we can get up to Eureka before Christmas to get fresh shrimp.”

Oh.

Saurbraten being marinaded

Possibly because the Thanksgiving Day feast is so fresh in our minds, an almost-entirely-farm-produced event, sentiment seems to be leaning in that direction. There is additional impetus now that we have the fruits of our two pigs, nestled securely in freezers here on-farm.

My ongoing goal has been to raise turkeys, since we are already in the chicken business, and we have the fenced-in orchard. In early spring I would acquire a dozen from Meadow at the feed store in the ‘Ville, and process six of them at about ten or twelve weeks. I would let the rest go until the fall, when I would then be able to count on a market for fresh, organically grown turkeys.

We would also be able to have one on Christmas Day.

I was busily composing a piece of writing in my head, one day last week, when it occurred to me to broach one more possible menu idea, to Herself. 

“How about if we do a finger-food kind of menu, like we used to do on the night we decorated the tree?” Included would have probably been stuffed mushrooms, deviled eggs, little weenies in barbecue sauce, carrots, celery, black and green olives, various types of chips with guacamole, spicy chicken wings, you get the idea...

I was drawn to this menu idea for several reasons. First, it would be, well, a first; second, it would be less structured, and therefore, hopefully, more light and breezy. The prevailing philosophy would be to just keep laying out simple dishes all day long, with everyone grazing as the mood strikes.

Third, I might tend to think it would tone down the inclination to overeat. If you have access to a constant flow of seasonal delicacies, all day, I would view it more as a taste-testing venture. A wise man paces himself.

A gigantic bowl of yeast popcorn would accent the event, and the veggies/deviled eggs could be prepared in advance and just put out as needed. The items being served hot could be trumpeted from the rafters, but otherwise, if you snooze, you lose.

There will be a jigsaw puzzle going, most likely the Dickensian Village one, there will either be Christmas music or a film on, and hopefully, we can get a little game of bridge on the line. It’s been a minute or two since the boys and I have played bridge.

Regardless of the menu, the dinner will be vastly surpassing excellent.

We have the house decorated now, except for one small, but important item, and that is a stocking for our newest addition to the household: Ellie Mae, sleeping even as I write, exactly where she crashed ten hours ago.

Ellie Mae has paid zero attention to tree, decorations, Nativity set and lights, though it’s possible that the dog treats I keep in my pocket have something to do with that.

Jack Nicholson had it right in “As Good As it Gets,” when he fed Vern a steady diet of little bacon treats. Mama didn’t raise no dummies so I cooked Ellie Mae up some bacon, and that was all it took.

Who needs Christmas tree ornaments, when you can have bacon?

One for Ellie Mae, one for me, one for Ellie Mae...

BACON!?! AS A TREAT?
"Humph. Is nothing sacred? I never got bacon...