A very quiet Christmas. The quietest and possibly loneliest for years, despite having Christmas morning breakfast with my new colleagues and neighbours. But remarkably free of depression and negativity. Perhaps because I feel I am where I want to be, and I have a job that gives me some real purpose.
Despite being alone most of the day, it was essential for the continuation of family tradition that I stuff and cook a turkey, as usual. Without such rituals, connection with one’s past life is lost. The smallest bird I could buy here was 4.6 Kg. That is a pile of turkey for one man.
Although there was a huge heap available, I did not overindulge at all. I ate a thigh and a slice of breast, a small piece of each stuffing, a roast garlic potato and some broad beans for Christmas dinner. No Gravy. No dessert, no cake, no excessive indulgence.
I have a lot left over.
On Boxing Day I stripped the chilled carcase, divided the cooked meat and stuffing up into portions and froze them, except for the remaining dark meat; drumsticks and thigh, which I put aside to have in sandwiches, with cranberry sauce.
From the bones and carcase I made two litres of stock, which I froze in portions.
My leftover turkey recipes are on my cooking blog. Two, so far. I also plan to make a turkey chilli and maybe a carbonara.