In the Last Hours of Advent

While I have been preparing for Christmas for a month, there was much to do in the final day of Advent. I prepared the feast for tomorrow, which itself took hours. It's an unusual one: none of the Christmas standards, no roast beast nor ham nor turkey, not even a Great Pie like I often make. 

This year I decided to make my wife a lobster-chipotle corn chowder that a friend of mine taught me how to make. It's not the sort of thing I'd ever normally make, as it involves not only seafood (not something to which I am accustomed, as a mountain man) but a seafood from distant cold waters. Nevertheless I bought her a frozen lobster and made it for her because I thought she'd like it, and perhaps all the more as it is a rare thing.

For my son and myself, I made a very common dish: venison chili. That's what he said he wanted. When he was a little boy he used to fuss so much about me making chili. He grumbled endlessly about being made to eat it regularly, as it's my go-to beef stew. Yet, just as I told him (and as he emphatically denied was possible) in time he came to love and value it. So, at his request, that's what I made. 

I did make Julkage, a traditional Christmas bread/cake from Scandinavia. So there's that, at least. Oh, and cookies: the "forbidden cookies" that my wife remonstrated against me making until late this afternoon, when she confessed she really wanted me to make her some. They're exactly like chocolate chip cookies except for substituting Heath bar crumble in place of chocolate chips. The last time I made a batch they were gone before I even got a single cookie. 

And though this went well back before Advent, I finished bottling the Christmas Mead.