Christmas dinner

THE EVENING goes well enough. There is much laugher, some of it bawdy, and a general congeniality amongst everyone – except me. And perhaps, My Good Lady. We seem to be struggling to get into the Christmas spirit – we’re a pair of Scrooges, really. It isn’t too bad a meal: the broth is just what you’d expect, a few vegetable floating in a clear stock. Okay, but nothing special. I have the turkey next, and MGL chooses the salmon. Both good, if not exceptional. The dessert we opt for is ice cream, which tastes like ice cream - again, nothing out of the ordinary. That’s where the meal is disappointing, it’s okay at best. Nothing exceptional. Last year, they pulled out all the stops. Their first year in business, they went overboard to impress. Now, they’ve gone almost too safe in their menu. Don’t get me wrong, there are some very talented chefs at the Pub – one of them has even contributed to a standard modern textbook on professional cooking. They somehow just don’t seem to get their balance right.

Food aside, though, neither of us is quite in the festive spirit at the moment. Maybe it’s just the disappointments of the week - we’ve written about those earlier. Anyhow, MGL and I return home and pop open a bottle of Chardonnay. To the sounds of some classic jazz recordings, we console ourselves before retiring to an early bedtime. It was an interesting, if somewhat (for us) a bit of a downer.