Christmas in Paradise

Sometimes I pine for a white Christmas. We snuggled in front of my mother’s 900 year old fireplace (big enough to park a cart horse) while roasting chestnuts. Or if the parents were at church toasting crumpets between the buttocks of a younger child.
Now, however, I’m in Australia. To be precise bang smack in the middle of Surfers Paradise.
It’s going to be 35 degrees and reminds me why I don’t want to have to dress up as Santa this year and arrive by possibly the cheapest and ramshackle speed boat on the river.
My view is worth several million dollars, but surpassed 10 times over by the value and vulgarity of the motor boats/yachts – perhaps $20m worth within a glance and most with a less than subtle message about penis envy.
Because of the heat Christmas is a bit different down here. A traditional roast turkey (or goose or whatever) is too much for the searing heat of the day. Instead we eat in the evening of Christmas Eve.
Prawns are a tradition and this year we are making kebabs with the uncooked green ones.
Traditionally, I would bone and stuff a turkey with rice, wild rice, nuts, breadcrumbs and loads of herbs. This year the whole family have admitted that they don’t like Turkey. Instead we are roasting two plump chickens Jamie Oliver style.
The parsnips are par cooked and put in a roasting tray with pumpkin and sweet potato, dozens of garlic cloves, fists full of herbs and a plenty of olive oil.
Then we par boil potatoes and roast the two stuffed plump chickens on top, again with the herbs, garlic and olive oil. The fat from the chicken makes the best roasted potatoes ever.
And Hey – hey, hey Donna Hay, Jackie’s made one of her Christmas cakes.