Christmas is as good as over for another year. Once again, I cooked Nigella's fantastic turkey. Here it is in the nappy bucket (well cleaned and never actually used for soaking grotty nappies), soaking amongst oranges, onions, cloves, peppercorns, maple syrup, mustard seeds, cinnamon sticks and other fragrant things. Unfortunately, I forgot to photograph it after it had been roasted. You will have to imagine it coming out of the oven, it's skin basted to a gorgeous rich brown courtesy of more maple syrup and butter. I love roasting the turkey this way. I love the process of soaking it in the bucket and adding all the gorgeous spices (and ice, lots of ice - unlike Nigella, I am not preparing for Christmas in a cold climate). And the best part is that it produces a wonderful, moist turkey. Just as she said it would.We have done all things Santa this Christmas, except sitting on his knee. Mr M has never been willing to do that. But Mr M did write a letter (okay, I wrote it, he dictated it) and received a reply. We went to visit Santa's house in the North Pole (aka Weetangera). We listened to the Wiggles sing Santa's Rockin' every night for a week and we are still listening to it. We left out supper for Santa and the reindeer and they must have really loved it because they left only crumbs. And since Christmas Day, Mr M has asked when Santa will be coming again ... every single day. Sometimes more than once. We only have a year to wait.
