25th December 2013, Shoreditch
Nothing says Christmas Morning as spending it with your hand up a dead bird.
For various random reasons I decided to cook goose for Christmas and as per usual decided that the way to go was overboard. As I obviously wouldn't settle with just any old goose, I instead decided to march down to Borough Market in September, find a goose farmer and ask a gazillion questions about how he ensured his geese were happy with their lives. I think he found that a little bit cute.
He may have found it somewhat less cute though when I started to call him weekly to check in on the goose. Who I had by week 4 named Scotty. You know, to make him feel like a real person.
Three days before Christmas Day he finally arrived, all 10 kilos of him! Now, I'm not exactly sure how the farmer knew that my specific baby goose was going to get that big, but hey - who am I to question the professionals?
The thing with 10 kilo geese is - they don't exactly cook in an hour... Which unfortunately means getting up at 6 am on Christmas Day, which may not be ideal when on a sugar and champagne hangover from the previous day (Quality Street really is the enemy). But up at 6 as was, with my Jamie Oliver goose tutorial at hand.
8 hours later it turns out that I am an absolute goose genius. Scotty the Goose smelled amazing, looked amazing and tasted amazing and this was at my first ever goose attempt. Everyone at dinner agreed and I swear it wasn't because I greeted all 10 dinner guests with 'I've been up since 6, love my goose and you're out'.
I am naming the next goose Kevin.
Scotty the Goose on his arrival! |
He did fit in the end.... |
Basting number 27. And my socks. |
Tah-Da! |
My flatmate the master carver |
Yep, food genius. It's official. |
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