Domestic Science

Our goose is cooked

Not only cooked, but eaten, leftovers and all.   We had the last of it in a pie for dinner yesterday.  It’s true what my friend said, thee isn’t as much meat on a goose as you’d think.  Our 4.6 kg goose would have fed 6 for Christmas dinner, but there wouldn’t have been much in the way of leftovers.   As it turned out, we were only two for Christmas day so we had a feast then, a second feast for Boxing Day dinner, microwaved with roast potatoes, red cabbage and even gravy, and enough left for a generous pie for two.

But of course, the goose lives on an the form of four jars of goose fat, enough to keep us in roast potatoes for some time to come.  Two jars were rendered from the fat I pulled from inside the goose, in a low oven to create the purest, whitest fat imaginable.  The other two jars were siphoned out of the roasting tray while the goose cooked and left to go cold in a bowl.  These aren’t so pure white, the fat has more of a golden tinge.  But I’m sure the roast potatoes they make will taste just as good.  Definitely worth investing in a big basting pipette, to get the fat out of the tray during roasting, before it reaches dangerous levels.  Until you have tried it, you just won’t believe how much fat comes out. 

In case you were wondering, the goose was delicious.  I don’t know if I cooked it right (I followed three different roasting tables and took the average), but after three hours it came out soft and tender fleshed, and very crispy skin.  Kind of like Peking duck.  I might try roasting a duck on a similar basis for a less expensive treat.   

Christmas Eve

It’s my turn to cook Christmas dinner this year.  I wanted to do turkey, but that was vetoed (whatever I said about Kelly Bronzes, I got sniffy looks and I gave up this fight about October), so the main event will be goose.  Regardless of the species, Christmas Eve finds one or other of us outside Morley’s in Crouch End, about 8.30 am, queuing for our bird.  Or our beef, if the other half is in the kitchen.  Even though we ordered the goose a month ago (and a ham for emergencies) we still got in early to avoid the rush.

Goose bagged, we went to Walter Purkis for scallops and smoked salmon, and managed to beat the queues there, too.  Thence to Banners, for a slap up breakfast, and Gill Wing, for a roasting rack (for the goose).  By the time we got to Budgen’s it was starting to get busy, with frantic shoppers rushing around as though they were fighting for the last mince pie on earth.  There was a nasty altercation by the spices, when two ladies collided.  I hid behind the olives and stayed out of it.  Last stop: Oddbins for the big red to go with the goose.  I’d already stocked the drinks cabinet from Ocado but I thought I’d leave this one up to the other half. 

Home by 10.30, and all I had to do was make the red cabbage, the apple sauce and the gravy ready for tomorrow.  Oh and wrestle the goose into the fridge - which took a lot of rearranging.  I’m not sure how I’ll get it into the oven tomorrow but at least it will have been properly chilled.   I’m very proud of the gravy - made with fresh giblet stock and home made redcurrant jelly.  Though it was a bit anaemic-looking due to the 100% natural stock so I shoved in some gravy browning to help it along.   I’m doing the goose Christmas dinner from Nigel Salter’s Kitchen Diaries, should you want any of the recipes.   As it only has cabbage and potatoes on the side it’s really not that tricky - though I suspect it won’t work with families of ten who all have their own favourite Christmas trimming.

All I have left now is the blini batter  - blinis make a change from American pancakes, which is what we usually have, and are very handy in that you make them the night before and shove in the fridge overnight.  Tomorrow I just need to  make blinis for breakfast, peel the potatoes and roast the goose.  Right now, I can sit down and watch Carols from Kings with a glass of sherry like I do every year.  Lovely. 

'Tis (almost) the season to be jolly

November.  Time to make mincemeat. 

Last year I read an article in Good Housekeeping UK, all about buying in your Christmas feast from the supermarket.  Their staff had conducted an exhaustive review of ready made seasonal delicacies, and provided the harassed housewife with a shopping list for the the ready-made Christmas.  Unfortunately, to acquire the proposed menu, you would have had to visit around seven different supermarkets.  I prefer to stay at home and peel my own spuds.  Or at least, make my own mincemeat, which is the easiest part of the whole Christmas shindig. 

For enough mincemeat to last me through the 12 days of Christmas, I loosely follow the gospel according to St Delia.  I peel, core and chop 3 large cooking apples.  I put them in a large pot with a packet of suet (the standard Atora size, I think its about 250g or so) - I generally go for the vegetarian stuff in case people are awkward.  I add about 3005 soft brown sugar, about a 1 1/4 kilos of dried fruit (sultanas, raisins and dried figs are my preferred mix), and a small packet of flaked almonds.  I add zest and juice of 2 lemons and 2 oranges and 4 teaspoons of ground mixed spice, stir the whole thing up, cover and leave over night. 

The next day, I put it in a low oven (still covered) for about 2 hours to melt the sugar and suet.  Finally, I stir in a large slug of brandy and pack into clean jars.  It stores for  ages, and will certainly keep until Christmas.