Christmas Goose

What traditions will be a part of our holiday celebrations for years to come? This is a question we ask ourselves more now that we have a little one and her holiday memories are being created.

We remember with much fondness all the wonderful things we did each year with our families. If any of those traditions had been omitted or changed, the holiday just would not have been the same. Going to a candlelit Christmas Eve service, cutting down a tree, and baking Christmas cookies are just some of the traditions we have carried over. There is still room for more traditions to be made and the Christmas Goose is one we would like to continue!

Avia picked up a ten pound goose from the local butcher and DaddyO picked out this recipe. There was a flurry of activity in the kitchen as we prepared our Christmas dinner feast. There was fresh baked bread, pomegranate spinach salad, green beans, and goose fat fried potatoes.

frying the potatoes

tossing the salad

and setting the table

Looking back again at how the Cratchit's enjoyed their Christmas dinner so many years ago, it is amazing how little things change...

Master Peter, and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession.

Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, to which a black swan was a matter of course -- and in truth it was something very like it in that house. Mrs Cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan) hissing hot; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigour; Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped.

At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cried Hurrah!

There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness and flavour, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal admiration. Eked out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn't ate it all at last. Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular, were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows

This was just the beginning of another Christmas tradition!

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