A White And Very Cold Christmas

A few years back, wanting that true holiday vibe, Katie and I spent time back in Minnesota at her family home on Christmas Lake. (Yeah, on Christmas Lane too! Can't make this stuff up.) On the eve, the "little, littles" had been tucked in, toys assembled and distributed about the tree, making it time to seal the deal: Create sled tracks on the roof!!! Carefully fueled with Christmas cheer, we tied butcher twine to cross country skies, shimmied out onto an upstairs porch, then ran two (reasonably) perfect lines over a rooftop heavy with fresh snow before strewing about bits of carrot tops and the odd piece or two of charcoal. Oh, the faces of those kiddy winkles in the a.m., eyes saucer large, breaths held in deeply, were just... Well, worth any amount of layers my skinny behind needed to make it through the visit. So it was that we again made the trek for perhaps what might be the last year for the youngest of this large group to believe in Santa.

A few fresh inches.

 It didn't disappoint, with snow, cold, expectant children, and good eats all in abundance. A heavy snow fall right before my arrival made for a gorgeous winter scape, the 9 degree temperature would prove to be a relative high point. Little did it matter, as I was snatched from the airport bar, prepping for the chill, by brother-in-law Thomas who had just flown in as well. Off to Megan and Andy's for a round of make-your-own delicious pizzas, and the tone was set: warm houses, full plates, and fuller tables crowded with family. There would be long braises, from hen legs in white wine and fennel on Christmas Eve to spicy pork shoulder over fork-mashed turnips and celery root following an afternoon of skating on Lake of the Isles near downtown Minneapolis. Talk of pheasant or quail for Christmas dinner, spurred by the uncovering of a large stash of classic glass cloche in a storage space, yielded to a beautiful roast "beast" of about as many pounds as the twenty of us lining the long table. Thanksgiving-like were the accompaniments, plates groaning in abundance, the exception being a request of "lemon snow" for desert. (Very much like iles flottantes, light, airy, and tart with citrus.

Pork!!!.

 Being in the cold does not mean being inside, as evidenced by a morning of snow shoeing around The Arboretum; that magical arm of the U of M that gave the world the Honey Crisp apple. Getting out tends to make you hungry, though, and knowing there was a pot of chili stewing down(black beaned, thick in dark beer, roasted garlic, and habaneros) makes for a welcome retreat home. Thomas played the role of pied piper of good whiskey, knowing just which should be gifted to whom; a bottle of bourbon here, some single malt there. It made house hopping that much more interesting, although guilt has it's grip on me as I look over at the Four Roses Single Barrel which followed me home unopened. (Think it may have to remain that way until we reconvene in the spring at the Cottonwood Ranch to address a growing problem with wild turkeys.)

"Where's that warming hut again?"

 And so it was that we concluded the visit with that all so rare, and very much appreciated, quiet New Year's Eve. Some sparkling and nibbles at Sarah and Steve's where niece Emma and her friends, talented musicians all, were gearing up for a night of playing. Then, on to Megan and Andy's for crostini of walleye(what else!), lemon, and cilantro, and Cornish game hens roasted with root vegetables. The next day in need of lim stretching after so much family time, I made the modest stroll a couple of miles to a watering hole on nearby Lake Mennetanka. The barman noticing my arrival by foot asked, "You walk here?!" When I confirmed this, he shared with me that it was -10 degrees, much colder with wind chill. Nothing much to do but thank him, and back up my Guinness with a short Jameson's. A good time it was, but siting there hearing someone speak of it warming up enough later in the day to snow, I received a text photo from friend Mark of his Lanikai Beach. A reminder that they have Christmas in Hawaii too.

Chez Gautier Cooking School: http://www.chez-gautier.com