Christmas Eve

Fry shallots, bay leaves, in olive oil.

Add garlic, like a bulbs worth.

Then chop up flat leaf parsley and add.

Meanwhile, you have rinsed your fresh clams, discarding any that will not close under running fresh water.

Add white wine, half a bottle to your sauce, then the clams.

Then add your cooked linguine or bavetti, al dente, to the sauce.

Mix and service with ground black pepper.

Drink rest of white wine.

For dessert a gooey chocolate pudding, courtesy of Nigella. 

Melt dark chocolate in a bain-marie.

Whisk 4 eggs, flour, salt, sugar, vanilla essence.

Add cooled melted chocolate to mixture.

Pour into little moulds.

Bake in the oven for 10 minutes. Roasting oven of an Aga.

The puddings are gooey on the inside and slightly spongy on the outside. 

Serve with creme fraiche or vanilla ice-cream.

Then we go to the church at the end of my road. My teenager won’t come because she is sulking in her bedroom. Sister-woman and I arrive late for the service and sit at the back. But the vicar says “you’ve missed the best bits” to us from the pulpit. My sister shouts out, “Well, do it again”.

We sing carols ‘Come all ye faithful’, ‘We three kings’, ‘Silent night’. We have such beautiful carols in Britain. I only go to church once a year, basically to sing carols.

I go up to receive communion. I say a little prayer.

On the way out the vicar clasps my hands. I’ve met him a few times. He lives opposite me. “You should come more often”, he pressurises. 

“Well, I’m not a Christian and I don’t believe in God. I just come to sing carols.”

As we walk out my sister says: “That was rude, why do you have to shove it down his throat?”

I’m thinking, I just wanted to make it clear. I’ve had these conversations with him before and I don’t want to give him hope. In fact every time I do go to church, the more preposterous Christianity appears to me. Do I really want to worship a young man in his 20’s and 30’s? I simply cannot relate to this religion.

I slightly wish my sister would go away. Bossy cow.