Ever since I got my bestfriend's call, inviting me to a dinner at her place on Christmas Eve and informing me that they're preparing a turkey, I'd been over my head with excitement. I made very little, or no, effort in concealing my eager anticipation of the feast; I have to admit - I shamelessly boasted and gloated for a whole week. This extreme behaviour would probably be easier to comprehend if I reveal the fact that this was the very first time in my life that I'd have turkey for Christmas (well, the eve, but close enough), and a home-roasted one for that matter! Enough of words - a picture paints a thousand words, and I have several here:
This was absolutely the smallest turkey they could get, I was told, but it was huge all the same. Roasted to perfection and stuffed full of minced onions, mushrooms and a host of other ingredients I didn't catch when the Chef was explaining them, it was every bit as yummy as I expected it to be.
Here, it sat pretty and mouth-watering on a bed of edible garnish. There were greens, sausages, mushrooms (mushrooms! mushrooms!) and cherry tomatoes. The photo is not properly focused but I guess I didn't realise it at the time of taking it, probably because all I could only think about was how good it smelled and how great it'll taste. I thought I wrote "enough of words" earlier but here I am, still writing incessantly! I can't help it - I guess the roasted turkey rush hasn't exactly worn off just yet. I'll try, though.
The turkey was the main course, and just as any proper dinner would have, we were also treated to starters - freshly-baked bread, mashed potato, gravy and salad - and homemade cranberry sauce! Pardon the hand with a pointing finger, though; not part of the spread, but part of the means of shoving food into the hungry mouth.
Just how much did we love the turkey, you wonder? Here's the "aftermath", as when we're all so full we attained the mobility of a beached whale:
When we finally could move our heavy selves away from the dinner table, we gathered in the living area and sung some Christmas carols. I don't know if singing actually increases metabolism rates or burns more calories, but after the singing, we're ready to eat some more. It was really convenient, for we had a great dessert awaiting:
Reader, you probably know I don't usually write about food; firstly, I don't describe them well enough and secondly, so many people blog about nothing but food the world doesn't need another one. Still, I must make this an exception, for I still want to gloat about this incredibly scrumptious dinner I had the honour to partake... Do bear with me!
Have a wonderful and blessed Christmas, you (you - as in you who are reading this right now); may your home and life be full of love and laughter always.