Christmas in Colorado
For Christmas Eve, Tyson dreamed of serving a feast to his family — a grand affair involving crab claws, prime rib, two kinds of gravy, two kinds of potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, roasted vegetables, and . . . baked Alaska.
I dreamed of torturing him in the night.
“But I will do it,” he said.
I smiled and nodded my head. (He has never made any of these things before, but guess who has?)
In the end, the baked Alaska became Martha Stewart’s chocolate bread pudding (which is the best dessert I discovered this whole year), and fussing around in the kitchen with Ty became one of my favorite holiday moments. Even though we cooked for 18 hours. And I had to make GRAVY. And the bread pudding required creme fraiche, which we made from scratch.
He planned this dinner for his family for weeks. They loved it.
“This is what I want for Christmas,” he said.
And who can say no to that?
Scenes from our mountain holiday:
Fragrant noble pine boughs decorated the table and the napkins.
Stone crab claws from Florida: Ty’s favorite holiday indulgence. (They are tough on the wallet, but gloriously easy on the figure.)
Homemade creme fraiche in Ty’s mom’s beautiful lusterware bowl.
Individual Yorkshire puddings: also known as popovers. (No, there’s nothing pudding about them.)
Ty on pudding watch.
Beautiful windows, beautiful light, beautiful Christmas morning.
Later, a walk with Libby, the angel of Christmas.
I admired the architecture of nature.
We came home to a warm fire, books to read, puzzles to work, and more chocolate bread pudding.
At night, an outing to look at the lights — and Roger’s were the prettiest of all.
(Thank you R & B, for all the warmth and fun.)