A Dickens of a Christmas

Charles Dickens was a foodie. I believe this to be true, because of the way he describes his culinary experiences. He wrote eloquently of Christmas dinner in “A Christmas Carol”:

There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness and flavor, size and cheapness were the themes of universal admiration. Eded out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish) they hadn't ate it all at last! Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows.

Unlike the Cratchits and their contemporaries of Britain’s Industrial Revolution, we are blessed with running water, separate bedrooms, trash service, and child labor laws. However, this is an economically challenging time, and a Victorian meal can inspire something simple, frugal, and memorable.

The centerpiece of a traditional, Victorian, Christmas Dinner would be a large foul. Goose is what Dickens describes, but turkey would also be traditional. I believe a perfectly roasted chicken would also suffice. The bird could be stuffed with the sage and onion dressing the youngest Cratchits enjoyed, or since we all probably prepared that for our American Thanksgiving, perhaps a dressing that features nuts and dried fruits to tempt the palate. In 1843 London, apples and prunes would have been likely choices for the dressing. If you’d like something a little more contemporary, try using dried currants and pine nuts.

Side dishes would include the ever-popular mashed potatoes. (Definitely not traditional, but mascarpone cheese sure makes them creamy!) Dig into your Commonly Supported Agricultural (CSA) basket and roast some of those seasonal root vegetables (probably parsnips and rutabaga, maybe some carrots). The spicy bitterness in winter greens perfectly complements the decadence of goose, so remember your mustard greens or Brussels sprouts. (They are also power foods, so you can feel good about your celebratory indulgences.)

In the 19^th century, the clever Mediterranean vintners were fortifying their wine with distilled alcohol, so their wine could survive the arduous journey by sea to England. Madeira would therefore be an authentic beverage choice. In fact, the more well traveled (and arguably mistreated) the Madeira, the better it is said to taste.

The obvious dessert would be plum pudding. While the flavors and texture can be foreign to us, the preparation is endearing (every family member takes a turn in stirring while making a wish, and some stir from east to west to honor the journey of the Magi). Serve it with a sprig of holly on top for tradition. Light the brandy on fire for dramatic presentation. Suet is typically difficult to find, unless you have access to a butcher, so you may have to substitute coconut oil or very cold butter, but it won’t be quite as light. You can also add some cocoa powder if you have someone in your family who defines dessert by chocolate!

Until next time, eat well!