Our family Christmas

2013-12-24 00:00

GROWING up, the arrival of the Christmas tree always signalled that the countdown to Christmas had begun. My father insisted that any self-respecting Christmas tree had to be cut down by us, so the family would pile into the farm bakkie and the search would begin.

Over the years, the Christmas menu stayed largely the same. Delicious salty gammon and turkey, bulging with Christmas stuffing, would be surrounded by potatoes roasted to crispy perfection. Accompanying this traditional Christmas fare would be mounds of Brussell sprouts, buttered carrots, and cauliflour smothered in a cheese sauce all coated in dark, rich gravy and finished off with a dollop of cranberry sauce. My father’s proud duty was to carve the meat, which he had down to a fine art, deftly slicing perfectly sized pieces to be dished onto waiting plates. Once our plates were filled to overflowing, we would take our places and wait for the signal that the feast could begin —

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