23 dec

What is a turkey in french? Important question when Christmas is coming up. At least in the Van Mierlo and Rezac household. We didn’t have a clue. Looking at all these large chicken like creatures in the isles of Mr Leclerc didn’t bring us any closer. They all looked like large chickens or small turkeys, but none was clearly a chicken or clearly a turkey.
Do they eat turkeys with christmas in France, we asked ourselves. Americans eat turkeys because they are associated with the first settlers giving thanks for surviving the first year in their new country. There is a hilarious story from Garrison Keilor about the rabbit that was destined to be the first thanksgiving meal, but he disappeared out of his cage, the evening before. Therefore the settlers had to settle for the turkey that was around. And that’s why we eat turkey.
Christmas in our house is a homage to many traditions. The turkey is cooked according to Mother Rezac rules, which itself is the product of tradition. As it should be. The stuffing – essential eating – is based on generation old recipes, which, just because of that, makes it taste delicious, but it is also good without that knowledge.
The brining of the bird and the frying of the potatoes is from the Nigella Christmasbook. We try not to confuse the cocoa in the recipe for Cocaine, but then again, some people do still think that cocaine comes from cocoa, so what is the difference. We are, just like prime minister Cameron on the Nigella team, let that be clear.
The final part of the Christnas meal is the plumpudding, although my mother wants to save the plumpudding now for the 2nd of Christmas, Boxing day in commercial US. Plumpudding is a tradition from my mothers family. The story goes that my grandpa had gone to Londen for business, somewhere in the late fourties. There he heard about this christmaspudding tradition and he brought one home. My mother always says that only he, Leentje – the inleaving housekeeper(second mother and third grandmother) and herself where the only ones who liked it. Leentje would make one every year after and every year more of the Pijnenborg clan would devour it. As far as I know we are the only ones who are still making it, which makes it more important.
I remember the first time when I ate it. We were sitting at the large table at my grandma’s house. At Christmas. There were two sisters of my grandmother sitting at the table. I was sitting next to tante Riek, a very old, very thin and very severe woman who spend her life, I thought, working on jig saw puzzles.
Plumpudding is a combination of kidneyfat, bread, currents, apples, sucade, sugar, eggs (lots of those) and rum (quite a bit of it). The plumpudding is only half of the deal, the other half is a rum sauce that even made my aunt Riek pretty loose. She was serving me spoon after spoon of this delicious sauce. “of course you’re tall enough for that, she told the 10 year old me.’
Turkey is Dinde, a very friendly frenchman told us after we had been non-puzzled for at least ten minutes. The price was about a quarter of what we used to pay at Tablehurst in Forest Row. Hope the taste won’t be equivalent.