Carve the roast beast

While I should be meeting deadlines, I’m daydreaming about getting in my kitchen and doing some serious elbow-swingin’, outta-my-way cooking. Christmas dinner prep is the one time a year I really blow it out, budget-wise, waistline-wise and labor-wise.

A few years back, when my husband and I finally decided we would travel no more for Christmas, we also decided to lose the yoke of bird that had been thrust firmly about us all our lives. Forget turkey. It’s beef or bust.

“But the holidays are about turkey and dressing,” protesteth my kin. To which I usually respond, “Like I care.” Turkey is about as special as a pan of mortar, no matter what kind of oil it’s fried in or how many other de-boned birds get stuffed inside it. Be ye broke or not come Jan 1, you’re supposed to splurge on Christmas. I have been a committed prime rib preparer for years now, relegating roast chicken and cornbread dressing to the night of the 23rd.

A few days ago, I marched myself right down to Leo, the butcher at Calandro’s on Government Street, and ordered myself a standing rib roast. Alongside will go mashed potatoes, because nothing adheres better to a piece of medium rare roast beef than Yukon Golds whipped within an inch of their lives. I rotate out the meal’s requisite Green Vegetable, but this year, it will be green beans with almonds and lemon peel, and, to satisfy the casserole gods, Spinach Madeline from River Road Recipes. The meal is preceded by corn and crab bisque (I like Emeril’s from his first cookbook New New Orleans Cooking). Sometimes I serve a salad of butter lettuce, celery, hearts of palm, artichoke hearts and shrimp.

Dessert always vexes me. I haven’t found a go-to family favorite yet. Usually I fall back on gingerbread and lemon curd because it’s so Christmasy. But this year, I’m doing the Palace Café’s white chocolate bread pudding (because it’s fabulous), maybe Southern Living’s famous Hummingbird Cake (because I’ve always wanted to try it), and a lemon mousse thing served with ladyfingers (because of its sophisticated name, Delicious Lemon Dessert).

I’d love nothing better than to spend the next five days slaving away uninterrupted in the kitchen, but alas there are other obligations (and humans) in line first. In the meantime, I will finish writing out lists of ingredients, iron (IRON!) my white tablecloth, order roses to arrange simply, break out my delectably gaudy wedding china bedecked in jaguars and parrots, and imagine it all coming together in juicy fashion.

And as you do the same, Merry Christmas. Salut. Bon Appetit. And to all a good night.