Christmas Cooking

Year after year, my sister and I struggled to cook Christmas dinners.  We've produced overdone pork roast, underdone prime rib, and only passable turkey.  We've cooked blurred by cocktails and stone-cold sober (not as fun).  Things got so desperate that several years ago, I began keeping track of what we did each Christmas so we could do a better job the next year:

1996: "Potato casserole got overcooked.  Dad complained green beans were stringy."

1999: "Dinner not so successful. Green beans would NOT cook; Yorkshire pudding was flat."

2000:  "Beef tenderloin too rare. GET A NEW INSTANT MEAT THERMOMETER."

2002:  "Christmas dinner was  excellent!  M. and I made a detailed schedule that was so helpful because we made it up while we were sober."

2003:  "Read this before doing a damned thing!  Make potato casserole the night before and cook it,  otherwise the onion and garlic are too sharp."

2006:  "Pork roast  that should have taken 75 minutes according to cookbook easily took two hours.  Took it out when thermometer read 135 degrees but was too soon."

2009: "Be sure to plunge thermometer DEEP into meat.  Don't start with  chilled roast."

And 2010?   In late middle age, with no more elderly relatives to cook for, only forgiving pals and younger family members, we threw in the towel and ordered the entire dinner from A.G. Ferrari.