Jan. 6th, 2008 07:59 pm
Adventskranz und Christbaumstern sind tot
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muckefuckThe one compensation as a bid farewell to the merry holiday season (on a most un-Christmassy 60-degree evening) is the thought that another two-week period of feasts and revels kicks off in one month to the day with the arrival of the Year of the Rat.
Cassoulet was eaten. In case it wasn't rich enough, we bracketed it with cream of roasted cauliflower as a starter and a dessert of hot chocolate with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu's famous roscón de Reyes. Believe it or not, this was actually a less rich meal than the one I had chez Umm `At̤ā'ullāh the night before. My fresh-baked wheat bread laid with smoked and unsmoked cheese actually shrank to the status of an appetiser after course followed by course of gingerbread, black bun (well, not really, but I'm not allowed to call it "fruitcake"), and galette de Rois (which I continued to nosh on long after the almond had been found) washed down with wassail and port.
It was a small gathering but a deeply interesting one. We explained the mysteries of Catholic upbringing to non-Catholics, complete with illustrative jokes (monshu's "What are the three things that even God doesn't know?" was such a hit that notes were taken), not to mention the mysteries the Chinese writing system, Italian tax codes, and Irish politics. I had considered meeting Nuphy at Bear Night afterwards to celebrate the new smoke-free regime in Chicago, but the opportunity came and I felt no need to move on. Instead of staying up to the wee hours making small-talk with near-strangers, I stayed up to the wee hours having good conversation with old friends. What better note to end the season on?
I meant to dismantle the token presence of Christmas in my apartment this afternoon, but I couldn't bring myself to. Clearing away the Christmas candles means beginning the cleaning in preparation for Chinese New Year and I'm not ready to face that quite yet. O spare me, please, until snow is falling again and the prospect of venturing outside for shopping or visiting is less enticing.
Cassoulet was eaten. In case it wasn't rich enough, we bracketed it with cream of roasted cauliflower as a starter and a dessert of hot chocolate with
monshu's famous roscón de Reyes. Believe it or not, this was actually a less rich meal than the one I had chez Umm `At̤ā'ullāh the night before. My fresh-baked wheat bread laid with smoked and unsmoked cheese actually shrank to the status of an appetiser after course followed by course of gingerbread, black bun (well, not really, but I'm not allowed to call it "fruitcake"), and galette de Rois (which I continued to nosh on long after the almond had been found) washed down with wassail and port.It was a small gathering but a deeply interesting one. We explained the mysteries of Catholic upbringing to non-Catholics, complete with illustrative jokes (
monshu's "What are the three things that even God doesn't know?" was such a hit that notes were taken), not to mention the mysteries the Chinese writing system, Italian tax codes, and Irish politics. I had considered meeting Nuphy at Bear Night afterwards to celebrate the new smoke-free regime in Chicago, but the opportunity came and I felt no need to move on. Instead of staying up to the wee hours making small-talk with near-strangers, I stayed up to the wee hours having good conversation with old friends. What better note to end the season on?I meant to dismantle the token presence of Christmas in my apartment this afternoon, but I couldn't bring myself to. Clearing away the Christmas candles means beginning the cleaning in preparation for Chinese New Year and I'm not ready to face that quite yet. O spare me, please, until snow is falling again and the prospect of venturing outside for shopping or visiting is less enticing.