Home for the Holidays

I've gained ground in my quest for total domination of my Mother's kitchen. Reading this, she'll roll her eyes and plan a counter for next year. No larger kitchen nor double-oven will bring forth a treaty. Resistance is futile.

My start was modest, the deep-frying of a turkey on Christmas Eve. Although now a six year tradition, the main focus is on Christmas Night. Initially a challenge from my Father, it quickly escalated into an obsession to conquer all beasts.

Our first year was a gluttonous wet dream; food stuffed in food, stuffed in even more food. I'm talking Turducken and her delicious layers of chicken, duck and turkey with a bed of sausage and cornbread between each. To the joy of our guests, we reconstructed her the following year, wrapped in a blanket of bacon of course. Perfection on a platter.

Segue to last year and a true triumph of the beast, I was fortunate to butcher a pig at a friends farm. The experience alone was worth more than that beautiful meat hammock which hung and crisped in my oven. Oh suckling swine, I long to meet you again!

Pork and poultry now defeated, the opponent this year was beef. Four, big ass slabs of tenderloin massaged in mustard then surrounded by duxelles and goose pâté. Wrapped in prosciutto and homemade puff pastry, this dish is what dreams are made of. Our guest list sat around thirty so we ranged the Beef Wellingtons from a delicious, bloody rare to the less heroic medium. With such a rich complexity, few ate more than one slice. The reaming loaf reheated well and was enjoyed the next day.

To expand my reign, I baked an armada of fancy ass dinner rolls and a spinach/artichoke stuffed beer pretzel. My Father was outfitted with mise and details for roasting fingerling potatoes; his secret weapon of duck fat. A final crushing blow of brussel sprouts, roasted and deployed with crispy pancetta sealed my Mother's fate.

Because I love my Mother dearly, a treaty was reached during my remaining days home. I set her up with a hearty supply of chicken and duck stock while sharing a bread recipe. Peace had been restored! Later that week I taught Jamie to make pierogies, she took a bag home for her family and the rest were left for mine. Before departing, I made a quiche for the kiddos and baked a loaf of rosemary, kumquat and cheddar bread for Siobhan.

Of course, no trip home would be complete without a visit to the farmers market. As the saying goes, if you ain't dutch, you ain't much! Hope ya'll had a wonderful holiday with your loved ones!