Christmas is a time when people of ALL religions come together to worship Jesus Christ.
Christmas was a good one this year. My cousin, Dayna, and her fiance, Billy (who is 40 years old and still calls himself Billy. Really nice guy, however!) held it at their acreage in Spruce Grove. It was both our family and Billy's family, and for the first time since I was a kid there were children at Christmas dinner. They kept to themselves and the Nintendo Wii downstairs, so it wasn't as awful as it could have been. They came upstairs to sing Christmas carols like a bunch of screaming banshees at one point, but that was the worst of it.
After years of spending Christmas day with my mom's side of the family, I became accustomed to the presence of certain traditions and the lack of others. So when Billy's mom insisted on saying grace before dinner, we were all a little flabbergasted at first. Then we were red in the face from trying not to laugh out loud during the proceedings. Afterward, my Aunt Dawna informed everyone she's pretending to be Catholic so she can work for the local Catholic school board. We're all going to hell.
For dessert, I made the bitchingest chocolate cheesecake you can imagine. It had an Oreo crumb crust and the best fucking chocolate ganache I've ever, EVER, made because I decided to splurge on actual baker's chocolate squares and not chocolate chips like I normally do. There were also no cracks in the cake itself; it was a work of art, like something out of the issue of Martha Stewart Living that I got the recipe from. So yes, I was a little disheartened when all of Billy's family ignored it and instead went straight for the store bought lemon meringue pies that they brought which they proceeded to smother in Cool Whip from a can! An aerosol can! I almost died! Of course, my family demolished the cheesecake and they were thoroughly appreciative of my hard work and culinary prowess. Whatever, you yokels can keep your whipped cream in a can! That just means more cheesecake for us, losers!
Finally, can someone tell me what Ambrosia is and why something that is clearly made with marshmallows is served at dinner?
(Finally, Finally: I just remembered I signed up for that last.fm dealie, so um, friend me or something? I'm still not entirely sure how it works.)
After years of spending Christmas day with my mom's side of the family, I became accustomed to the presence of certain traditions and the lack of others. So when Billy's mom insisted on saying grace before dinner, we were all a little flabbergasted at first. Then we were red in the face from trying not to laugh out loud during the proceedings. Afterward, my Aunt Dawna informed everyone she's pretending to be Catholic so she can work for the local Catholic school board. We're all going to hell.
For dessert, I made the bitchingest chocolate cheesecake you can imagine. It had an Oreo crumb crust and the best fucking chocolate ganache I've ever, EVER, made because I decided to splurge on actual baker's chocolate squares and not chocolate chips like I normally do. There were also no cracks in the cake itself; it was a work of art, like something out of the issue of Martha Stewart Living that I got the recipe from. So yes, I was a little disheartened when all of Billy's family ignored it and instead went straight for the store bought lemon meringue pies that they brought which they proceeded to smother in Cool Whip from a can! An aerosol can! I almost died! Of course, my family demolished the cheesecake and they were thoroughly appreciative of my hard work and culinary prowess. Whatever, you yokels can keep your whipped cream in a can! That just means more cheesecake for us, losers!
Finally, can someone tell me what Ambrosia is and why something that is clearly made with marshmallows is served at dinner?
(Finally, Finally: I just remembered I signed up for that last.fm dealie, so um, friend me or something? I'm still not entirely sure how it works.)