at the table Christmas traditions cause kitchen woes
D
Bah humbug?
by Katherine Larson ecember in the United States is one of the most music-filled times of year, as background sounds that ordinarily hum along quietly shift, with one accord, towards seasonal songs that often invoke Christmas. They also often invoke foods associated with the season, and that got me thinking: how about the foods that we sing about but, in real life, eschew? “Hurrah for the pumpkin pie” indeed, but how about, well, “Chestnuts roasting on the open fire”? Crooner Mel Tormé and his music partner wrote this iconic song on a sweltering summer day in 1945, trying to think cool thoughts, and by 1946 it was a runaway hit. Nat King Cole, Celine Dion, Paul McCartney, Diana Ross, Bob Dylan, Sheryl Crow—all these and many more have famously covered the tune, and lots and lots of us sing it every year. But how many of us have actually roasted chestnuts on an open fire? Not me. When I started thinking about writing this article, I contemplated rectifying the omission. But then I learned that roasted chestnuts are far better when extremely fresh, while most chestnuts available for sale in the United States come from Europe and so are not fresh at all. (Most chestnuts in American backyards are horse chestnuts and inedible.) I also learned that, to avoid creating a deadly weapon in the form of an exploding nut, I would have to hack an X into each chestnut’s hard shell, using a robust and extremely sharp serrated knife. After the nuts spent the requisite ten to fifteen minutes in a cast-iron pan on an open fire, I’d have to decant them in a tea towel and then guess when to start peeling them. When they are just barely cool enough to touch without scorching one’s fingers is the magic moment. Too cool and they won’t peel. Too hot and your fingers blister. Moreover, it’s not just the hard shell that has to be removed; there are
Mrs. Cratchit’s chaotic kitchen illustration by Brad Gischia (depending on your sources) ei- keys as the big holiday bird in ther one or two thin layers of inner England, where so many Ameriskin that need to come off, and this can traditions come from. When process is described as the most turkeys crossed the Atlantic, howchallenging part. Nor is it sure of ever, they pretty much swept their success; if the chestnuts are not waterfowl brethren off the table. fresh enough, the inner skin stays There are reasons for that. stubbornly put. To begin with, all that fat. RecMaybe this is your favorite De- ipes for roasting goose are filled cember pasttime. If so, I congrat- with sentences like, when you ulate you and ask you to teach me have the goose on a rack, “drain your tricks. Until you do, I’ll con- the roasting pan whenever the ristent myself with the song and then ing tide starts to touch the goose.” serve a different appetizer. Really? And precisely how do As for an entrée, well, “Christ- I do that with a sizzling hot pan mas is coming; the goose is getting filled with sizzling hot fat in which fat.” How often have I warbled is balanced a sizzling hot but still these words, accompanying the half-raw goose? How often must I piped-in department store music, do that? And even after the bird is singing with children or grandchil- cooked, I’d still have to tip it cavidren, or flipping through the chan- ty-opening downward so the extra nels on the radio? Countless. fat—yes, there’s even more, accuAnd how often have I actually mulated inside—can drain out. cooked a fat roast goose? Exactly All that fat is also why most reczero. Why not? Because I’m intim- ipes recommend not stuffing the idated; because it’s not all that easy bird at all, since the dressing would to get a fat tame goose in the U.P.; absorb it. It is also why you cannot because, frankly, it just doesn’t make gravy with the pan juices. sound all that wonderful. And it is also why you have to alGeese, of course, preceded tur- low so much raw weight per perDecember 2021
Marquette Monthly
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