Chapter 83
* * * *
The closer Christmas got, the more Barry knew he wasn’t ready. The gift idea for his men had proved more complicated than he’d first imagined. Though it irked him, he’d have to give it to them in a partially finished form. But that maybe was a good thing. They’d get a kick out of helping with it.
Things in the kitchen were better organized. Barry had been able to make some items ahead of time, but keeping the men out of the food storage boxes was almost a fulltime job in itself.
To extend the sense of Christmas, he’d begun serving some of his seasonal favorites before Jake’s birthday.
“What are these?” Jimmy said, biting into one of the treats before Barry had even finished setting the plate down.
“Mince pies. Although I guess you’d probably call them mince meat pies,” Barry explained. “I used French flan pastry for the cases, although some people just use regular pastry. The filling is a mixture of dried fruit, spices, brandy and suet.”
“Suet?” Jake asked, making a face, his hand pulling away from the plate.
“Yes, a little bit of shredded suet.” Turning to Jimmy, Barry asked, “Good?”
“Fucking great,” Jimmy said, reaching for a second pie.
That was all the signal the less adventurous cowboys needed, and open season was declared on all of Barry’s Christmas baking. He thought about putting the plastic storage boxes under the bed and sleeping with one eye open. However, he ultimately decided that the guys were paying him a compliment by seeking out his food so he just kept baking more.
He made and decorated Christmas cookies, explaining they didn’t have such things back in Britain.
“Well, that’s just wrong,” Jimmy said, cramming one in his mouth. “No wonder England lost her empire.”
Barry laughed, imagining what his old history teacher would have made of Jimmy’s explanation of Britain’s declining international fortunes.
“But maybe they should have kept it if they could make cakes like these,” Wayne said after biting into Barry’s Christmas cake.
“Thank you, Wayne,” Barry said, offering the man a plate of sliced cheese. “Back in Yorkshire especially we find this is a great accompaniment.”
“Don’t I get any?” Jimmy asked.
“Nope,” Barry said, folding his arms. “You insulted the country where I was born.”
Jimmy pouted and the other men laughed. Of course Barry soon capitulated and Jimmy pronounced the Christmas cake the best fruitcake he’d ever tasted.
“Suck up,” Jake murmured, before biting into his own piece. “You’re right, the cheese makes a difference.”
Barry smiled and nodded. His Yorkshire ancestors knew a thing or two about cooking. Although he imagined his grandmother would not have approved of the way he planned to cook his hams.
* * * *
“Wonder if we’ll get any snow tomorrow?” Jimmy said, looking out the bedroom window on Christmas Eve morning.
It was still dark and Barry didn’t want to get out of bed to start cooking. It was cold in the room but he was nice and warm snuggled up to his Jake.
When Jimmy started to dress, Rex saw that as his signal to get up off his blanket and greet the day. Barry knew he had to get up to let his dog out. Grumbling, he threw back the covers and stepped onto the tufted rug he’d bought a couple of weeks earlier.
Pulling on his purple robe—a pre-Christmas present from his cowboys, Barry led Rex to the kitchen and the back door.
He had a lot to do, even though he’d pre-prepared as much as he could. Brussels sprouts were traditional at Christmas back in England, but given their lukewarm reception at Thanksgiving, he’d decided on a leek bake instead. The leeks, plus the other vegetables he would serve would need to be made on the day. The ham however would be cooked today and reheated tomorrow. Bess had raised an eyebrow when Barry had placed a large bottle of Coca-Cola in his shopping cart, explaining what he planned to do with it.
Bess said she would be serving roast beef, as usual. “It’s what Frank likes.”
Barry had merely nodded and they’d changed the subject.
* * * *
Bess and Dennis came visiting mid-morning, armed with gifts. Barry offered them eggnog. “Sorry that Jimmy and Jake aren’t here. They had to nip into town.”
They’d left their Christmas shopping until the last minute, something Jake had admitted was usual for them.
“No problem,” Bess said, accepting her drink. “This is lovely,” she said after taking a sip. “Family recipe?”
Barry shook his head and explained that eggnog wasn’t common in Britain. He didn’t care much for the stuff but quite liked it in coffee.