My First Christmas (Lunch)

A Very Merry Picnic

Well Christmas Day 2009 has come and gone, a fact I can scarcely believe, because not only does the passing of Christmas signal the end to another big year, but it also means that I have successfully pulled off my very first Christmas Lunch. That's right people, my lovely lady friend and I were in charge of Christmas Lunch this year, we wrote lists, made a few confused phone calls to our mothers (How long do prawns keep in the fridge? What's the name of that sauce you make? Are they pine nuts or almonds in that salad?) and after a lot of shopping and menu-planning, settled on a Christmas picnic in the park.

Fresh Fruit & Cheap Wine

Veggies ready for the oven

I'd highly recommend the Christmas Picnic idea: for starters we didn't have to prepare much food - just some salads and roast veggies, the rest we bought from the markets. Because we cut down on the amount of cooking required, we weren't trapped in our teeny-tiny kitchens with our ovens pumping all day, and we even fed our stinky prawn carcasses to some very happy local magpies, no cleanup required. The weather was bliss, the park was beautiful, and I didn't have to clean my lounge room in anticipation of an onslaught of guests. This picnic idea? Total winner.

Cold Ham - Poor Delicious Piggies


The Menu:
- An assortment of cold meats, cheeses, bread and dips bought from Melbourne's multitude of excellent fresh food markets.
- Four big salads (wild rice salad, pear and walnut, tomato and feta, and fruit salad too)
- A kilo and a half of fresh prawns, complete with home made Rouille.
- Roast veggies (the only addition to the menu that required the oven)
- Choc-Ripple Cake (still delicious, even after a rough commute to the park)
- A truckload of red wine, and G&T's in the esky.

I Love Choc Ripple Cake

I'm really pleased at my first Christmas Lunch. The food and drink: plentiful. The fuss: minimal. Weather: Bliss. Plus because we pulled if off, my Lady Friend and I are officially Queens of Christmas, until we either fuck up royally next year, or let our parents take the reins again. How very merry.

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