Christmas Day

Written on Boxing Day.
We seem to have adopted our own traditions for Christmas Day and since my mother died we enjoy just our own company on this day, though with the virtual company of some wonderful choristers singing Romanian carols, of which more below.
The tradition of looking in stockings from Santa Claus on waking up, but opening packages from humans, under the tree, forbidden until after breakfast, continues from my childhood. 
Scrambled eggs with bubbly, at that time with bacon, for breakfast began in Romania. The bubbly we could find then was Cava from Spain, Freixenet Cordon Negro, and that has continued every year since then; I am not swayed by fashion so not impressed by the current enthusiasm for Prosecco. However, since coming to England in 2004 smoked salmon, not readily available in Romania when I lived there, has replaced bacon.
Another tradition, at the start of Christmas Dinner, which for us is in the evening, is to risk setting the house on fire, ie large fresh prawns flambe'd with pastis, this year Pernod as I could not track down Ricard. I managed to calm Petronela's anxiety enough for her to push the button on pre-set camera to get my blip.
The raw prawns are marinaded for 24 hours or more in olive oil with ginger, chilli pepper and garlic, into a very hot pan for less than a minute on each side, then 'woosh'. Stupendously delicious! (Ready to eat in extras).
Roast guinea fowl with bread and cranberry & port sauces, dauphinoise potatoes, red cabbage and, of course, the obligatory brussel sprouts (I insist Petronela eats one for tradition ;-) !).
No traditional Christmas Pudding; P doesn't like it and it's too much for me to end a substantial meal. We had a chocolate sponge with a melt in the middle orange centre. Once is enough for chancing my luck with fire so no flames; I sprinkled it with gold dust.
I had cheese and port ready, not Stilton but Shepherd's Purse Harrogate Blue, but was too full to eat it. Plenty of time before New Year, the next big feast.
Crackers pulled of course and Petronela actually 'got' one of the jokes: "Why did the elf push his bed into the fireplace?" ... "He wanted to sleep like a log".
A private joke had us giggling. We had a carol concert (link below) up on the tv screen and the Patriarch of the Romanian Orthodox Church, Daniel, appeared on the screen. The immediate simultaneous reaction "Do you remember when you/I got drunk with him?". You know you're with the right person when you have the same thought at precisely the same time. It happens often.
The insobriety happened at the final dinner after an English course for young adults from a variety of East European countries which I directed for the World Council of Churches at the Ecumenical Institute in Iasi; at the time Daniel was Archbishop of Iasi and I sat next to him at dinner. Wine and țuica (70% alcohol) flowed freely. In extras I've put a pic of a commemorative mug which shows me next to the then Archbishop Daniel just before the dinner.
For music lovers I've put a couple of links (I hope they work) to some Romanian carols on YouTube (I know of at least one blipper who is sure to enjoy these). Some are simply beautiful, others really express the joy at the Christmas event. There are no musical instruments in the Orthodox church other than the human voice, so choral singing is always exceptional.
The first clip is with the choir (Mira) at the church of Saint Nicholas in Iasi (they are all students at the seminary), where P and I were married. I used to joke with the priest Father Dan Sandu, he and his family are now good friends, that I went just for the music.
The second is a concert by the most famous of the Romanian choirs, Madrigal, at the Patriarchal Palace in Bucharest. It's an hour long but go to 2 mins 30 secs to miss the introduction in Romanian and to 11 mins 50 secs to see the Patriarch who prompted our dinner giggles, and immediately after my favourite carol (O ce veste minunata - O what wonderful news), possibly because it was the first I learned to sing in Romanian, much to the delight of my 10 year old pupils in Suceava in 1994.
Here are the two links:
Mira (7 mins):
Madrigal (1 hour):
PS. We were due to go for a Boxing Day meal today in Ilkley with some Romanian and Yorkshire friends, taking one of my Christmas cakes made for the occasion. We cannot go; only 3 miles but every road is closed with floods (there are no train services). In fact people in the centre of our village are appealing for sand bags; we are OK where we live a short distance from the centre. Towns around are far worse.