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The posts have dried up of late, I know. And this will be the last of the year. A slightly more prolific version of regular service should resume come January. It is, you see, December. And making my living as I do by cooking stuff for people pretty much rules me out of anything resembling a normal existence once the festive season starts to bite (and also rules me out in November, on account of I’m trying to get ready for it).
It is impossible to describe what December is like in a kitchen*. Any accurate description would seem absurdly hyperbolic, so I’m not even going to try. All I will say is that it doesn’t stop. At any point. If you’re not cooking service you’re trying to plug the gaps in your prep list,. Should by some miracle you find the time to do that then hey, there’s a catering job just come in and you need to pony up food for a hundred in a couple of days because who plans ahead? But mostly it’s the deep prep. The basic jobs that are the backbone of a professional kitchen. The stock. The onions. The potatoes. The soup. The garlic. Over and over because god help you if you run low on the basics, everything else you can work around, these? No. Doom and ignominy await. I’m going to gloss over mince pies**. The overall effect is to make the world outside even less relevant than usual. I am aware that terrible things are happening in the world, but have you stopped to consider that I’m running low on pulled pork. Do you have any idea how fucking long that takes to make?
I’m treating myself here by breezing merrily through the self-imposed word count that I set in place back when I decided to fire coastalblog back into some version of existence (again). I will, at some point give some thought to how best to proceed next year, but, for the time being, my thought processes run thus: Spare soup, tomato soup, piccalilli, millionaire shortbread, hummus, stock, chicken, stew base, pork, glaze gammon,order salmon, order chicken oh, and mince pies. Always the bloody mince pies. Alll done and dusted before lunch service hits tomorrow.
Seasons greeting’s, y’all!

*I am acutely aware that it is probably impossible to describe what December is like in any number of professions, be it law enforcement, healthcare or (poor sods) retail. Certainly impossible for me, because I don’t do it. But this piece isn’t about them, so get off my back, okay?***
**the mince pie represents the futility of existence in this scenario. I keep making them, they keep disappearing down peoples throats. I dream of mince pie free days.
***yes, I do seem cranky, don’t I? And it’s only the third. THIS is why I won’t be posting again ‘til January.


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