Christmas cats

Vino/Tabby/Tigger came in last night to take a look at the Christmas tree. He's scared of his own shadow, so this is as close as he goes to the strange thing. He didn't come around at all last week during the cold snap. And did I worry? No I did not. I figured he was somewhere inside, warming a neighbor's sofa. As you can see, he hasn't lost any weight perambulating around the neighborhood in cold weather.

We used to have a fine old tabby named Cowboy, and I still miss him. He had plenty of what the ancient Romans called gravitas. He thought having a real tree in the living room was the finest thing. He was way too cool to climb it or play with the balls, but he always made himself a nice nest under there, where he could take naps and watch the holiday chaos in peace and quiet. He would come out to play "string" on Christmas morning before the dogs arrived. I used to grumble because I had to buy a cheap felt tree skirt every year-- it was matted with cat hair. Now I wish he was still hiding under there.

"Cats seem to go on the principle that it never hurts to ask for what you want."
John Wood Krutch

Turkey pot pie

"I never see any home cooking. All I get is fancy stuff."

Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh

I had still had Thanksgiving gravy and turkey in the freezer, so I made a pot pie on Sunday afternoon. It really does take almost all afternoon-- especially if you do the double crust version. But pot pie is so good. Plus it's fun to put on some Christmas CD's and putter around the kitchen on a cold afternoon. Amanda's been asking me how to make this, so here goes.

I started by dicing and sauteing some plain vegetables: onion, parsley, celery and yellow potatoes:



While that was slowly cooking, I diced the turkey. Look at that yummy gravy. Good gravy is the only real secret to a fine pot pie:

Next, I added the gravy and turkey to the sauteed vegetables. I also put in some frozen peas and carrots. Now... this is where you have to tinker a bit, and do some tasting. If the mixture looks thin, thicken it with flour (I use Wondra) and season to taste with salt and pepper and dash of cayenne. If it's too thick, you can also stretch your gravy with a little bit of broth. Then let the mixture cook slowly for just a few minutes. The vegetables don't need to be cooked to tender, because the filling will be baking a long time.


And now the crust. Have I ever mentioned I hate making pie crust? Despite that, I've gotten pretty good at it, and this is a simple Martha Stewart recipe-- just butter, flour, salt and ice water. And as Martha would say, a double crust pot pie is "a good thing," so it's worth the extra work.

So make a crust for the bottom of the pan first, and then pour in the meat filling:

Then add the top crust, trim, seal and sprinkle with a little paprika. Bake in a 350 oven for at least an hour, until the top is very brown and the filling bubbly.

You'll want to dig into it immediately when you take it out, but restrain yourself and let it "rest" on a cooling rack. Meat pies are scalding hot right out of the oven, and the gravy needs to "set up."

In about a half hour, it should be the perfect temperature for eating and flavor, and the consistency right (not dry, not too runny.) The filling is really delicious under that rich, buttery crust!

Pour another glass of wine (you deserve it) and sit down to a winter supper fit for a king.

And Prince Philip is welcome to pull up a chair!

Old Santas and cotton ball trees

This celluloid Santa has been in the family for a long, long time. Except for a slightly squashed nose, he's in good shape considering the miles he's traveled and all the little hands that have touched him. Celluloid is light as a feather, and very fragile. I first remember him from our Grandma's house in the 50's, where he stood on the chimney of a cardboard doll house that I adored. He looked old even then, and slightly sinister like all good German Santas. Eventually he came to me, and now I bring him out for a few weeks every Christmas.

The cotton ball tree behind him was made by Amanda when she was 6, and the perfect little sleigh was created by John in shop class when he was in 7th grade. It's darn good metal working for a kid. You can see why he went on to tinker with airplanes for a living.

There were many old celluloid Santas on Ebay, but I was surprised to find one exactly like ours:

The Ebay description said he was made in Japan circa 1930, and he's in excellent shape, other than the slight dent on the nose (like ours!) The bidding was at $15.90 this morning, and if Grandma paid 5 cents for hers 70 years ago, that's a good profit. But I wouldn't part with mine for $100!

And of course, the sleigh and the cotton ball tree are priceless. :-)

"I'd rather be a sparrow than a snail..."

Especially if I could be painted by Paul Margoscy. I ran across his watercolors while I was searching the Internet for bird photos to "borrow." Here's a link:

http://www.mckenziegallery.com.au/Paul%20Margocsy%20Exhibition.htm

Speaking of birds, I wonder where they were hanging out during this sub-freezing week? They usually drain a feeder of sunflower seeds in a couple of days, but I've hardly seen any in the yard since the cold snap started. Even the crows are laying low. But yesterday afternoon I heard the chickadees again when the temperature finally got above freezing. They were flying back and forth to the feeder-- but no sparrows, and few finches right now.

Finally, we are warming up in Seattle. It was above freezing this morning, with plain old rain expected all next week and back in the 40's. A typical, dismal forecast that sounds good for a change.

Valley Wedding of the Year

Here's a fun surprise! When we opened our Methow Valley News yesterday, there was a lovely picture of Tom and Amanda right on the front cover of the annual wedding planning supplement!

A classic Methow wedding, outdoors on a crisp afternoon, overlooking the rivers in Twisp City Park. And they are a beautiful couple.

Always snow at Christmas

"One Christmas was so much like the other...
That I can never remember
Whether it snowed for six days and nights when I was twelve,
Or it snowed for twelve days and nights when I was six."

from A Child's Christmas in Wales

This is a picture of our old Pennsylvania farm on some forgotten winter day. Of course, it sometimes rained-- but in my mind, those long ago Decembers were white.

My favorite holiday story is "A Child's Christmas In Wales," by Dylan Thomas. I read it every year, and we also have a DVD of a sweet television movie made in 1987. The story is about Dylan Thomas' own childhood, and of Christmas in a small Welsh town by the sea. With his gift for imagery and poetry, in a few luminous words he evokes the old-fashioned winter setting and childhood emotion. I think it's as good as his "Fern Hill," poem, and that's saying something.

After a long, busy Christmas day of snowy play, Welsh mischief, useful and non-useful presents, rich dinners, candy, nutty relatives and other unusual excitement, Dylan Thomas closes the tired child's story with these beautiful words:

"Looking through my bedroom window,
Out into the moonlight
And the unending smoke-colored snow,
I could see the lights in the windows
Of the other houses on our hill,
And hear the music rising from them
Up the long, steadily falling night.
I turned the gas down, I got into bed.
I said some words to the close and holy darkness,
And then I slept."