So full its frightening

I have, somehow, managed to survive the onslaught of Beryl’s Annual Extravaganza Of Christmassy Culinary Delights. I was so uncomfortable driving home that I had to stop twice to stretch out and help my stomach in its attempts at recovery.
Beryl once again surpassed herself. I’m not sure how many times someone can surpass themselves before they reach a point beyond which they cannot advance, but knowing Beryl she’ll keep on pushing and probing and finding new ways to amaze and astonish us in her ongoing quest to achieve Yuletide feasting perfection.
Where do I start?
We had a mince pie with a cup of tea shortly after arriving. The mince pies were shortcut pastry made with so much butter they were yellow, and containing enough brandy to keep a city-wide fire fuelled for a fortnight. After that rather indulgent starter we had about seven hours of tasters and titbits that left me salivating and stuffed in equal measure. I’m not sure how many courses she’s planning to produce for her family on Christmas Day, but if she ends up doing EVERYTHING we sampled today, they won’t stop eating til Easter.
The woman is a genius.
Or dangerous.
Or possibly both.
She’s a dangerous genius, like the people working on A.I. or the scientists who created the hydrogen bomb.
I think my personal favourites today were the honey-glazed carrots, roasted until they were borderline crispy, and the parsnips, which had been grown in Ted’s allotment this year, and which Beryl finished off in a fryer. SO tasty.
There were other assorted brilliances, but I know that at least two of Beryl’s children like to read this blog from time to time, and I don’t want to ruin any surprises she has planned, so I shall stop here. But let me just tell you, if you’re lucky enough to be spending December 25^th where we spent today, you are in for a day of exceptional flavours and ridiculously rich gravy. I would advise wearing loose-fitting trousers.

RC 28-11-21