Last week, I turned to my husband and sighed. I had recently been told by an enthusiastic friend about her plans to serve a "dry-aged prime rib" for Christmas dinner. Evidently, it sits in the refrigerator for two weeks wrapped in cheesecloth, which is changed every day. The meat breaks down or something, and is absolutely delicious and tender after roasting. I've been making the same Christmas dinner for as long as I can remember: a big ham with scalloped potatoes as the main side dish.
"Should I make something different this year?" I asked my husband, already knowing what his answer would be. "You make it, I'll eat it." He's not picky. I continued any way. "Prime rib? Maybe I should make a fancy prime rib. Brisket? You like brisket. Or we could do something like crab legs. What about a goose or duck? That's Christmas-y." He grunted noncommittally, then muttered, "If we don't have ham, you won't be able to make ham-potato bake with the leftovers. I like that." Hrumph. I decided in my mind that I was going to make a luscious prime rib AND crab legs. I'm going all Martha Stewart on my family's heinies this year.
A few days later, out of the blue, my 11-year-old daughter pipes up from the back seat of the minivan, "I can't WAIT for Christmas dinner, Mom! It's my favorite meal of the year! HAM! And SCALLOPED POTATOES!" She was practically giddy. "Oh, honey. I was just talking to Dad about that. I think I'm going to make something different this year." "Nooooooo!" she wailed. "I look forward to this dinner all year. Pleeeeease, Mom."
How could I resist? It's the ONE meal she looks forward to ALL YEAR. So it's ham and scalloped potatoes for Christmas dinner again. Somehow, I don't think anyone will mind one bit.
Dinner last night: Santa Fe chicken strips