After the Lord Mayor's Show come the dustcarts

For the Annual Ramblings - if you feel strong enough - please follow the link above, or scroll down to  the 3 December entry.

Well, that's it over for another year, almost.  The house got a bit of a clean yesterday morning, and the kitchen got another today, so our surroundings look respectable - at least by our slovenly* standards.  We had a pleasant, gentle day with Sandra and Michael, and only slightly over-ate.  I had the idea of serving rillettes of pork as a starter, having done a kilo of the said beast for many hours in the slow cooker, and split the result into six ramekins.  We decided to road-test one of them on Christmas Eve, and instantly reviewed the situation.  Rich ain't in it.  (Nice, though!)

So, it was ham or smoked salmon/cream cheese sandwiches, sausage rolls and the like at lunch time, followed by tea and Martyn's excellent shortbread.  After what seemed like an indecently brief pause, dinner began, thanks to a moment of inspiration from Martyn, with an assiette de charcuterie (including one ramekin of rillettes which the four of us didn't finish...), then topside of the late Dexter, Tom, with the usual bits and pieces, Fortnums' Christmas pud with various lubricants, including a Delia brandy butter recipe using dark soft sugar, and finally a few cheeses.  (OK: pour moi, c'est fromage-dessert, mais il faut respecter les habitudes des autochtones, non?)  I'm ashamed to admit that I overdid the beef, and blame that Oliver person.  Still, it tasted OK despite cremation, and will do well with stovies tomorrow after a slightly more modest supper tonight.

What else to report?  While road-testing my Christmas present electric pruner yesterday, I found a primrose in flower where Forges-l'Evêque meets the street.  One Christmas present meets another.

* Must check derivation: is this originally a racist slur?