Twelfth Night

On Thursday, Twelfth Night, I invited some of the folks who live on Lake Esau to celebrate the end of Christmas season at my place.  There were eleven of us; two others had a family emergency and couldn't come.  It's just as well.  The eleven who showed up consumed every morsel of food I fixed!

I fixed a beef brisket, per a recipe from Deacon Helen.  I'm glad I made this main course the day before, and simply had to reheat.  Brisket calls for long, slow cooking — fully three and a half hours!  I think it tasted better for having slept in the fridge overnight.  Dessert was an apple crisp made according to a Joy of Cooking recipe.  Mrs. Rombauer failed me!  Her crisp was decidedly un-crispy, but the ice cream on top nicely disguised this shortcoming.  Back to the drawing board... or cutting board... or whatever.

A pot of wassail.  (Wikimedia Photo)

Wassail is traditionally associated with Twelfth Night, which is always the night prior to the Epiphany, Jan. 6th.  I offered a non-alcoholic wassail: apple cider mulled with orange slices, cinnamon sticks, and cloves.  In southern England the Twelfth Nighters go wassailing in apple orchards to scare away evil spirits and ensure a plentiful harvest the following autumn.

This was the first time in many years that I've cooked for a crowd.  Aside from a couple mishaps, e.g., getting the rice on late, it went well and we gave the Christmas season a traditional sendoff. •••