Christmas music – SIMCHA FISHER

What’s for supper? Vol. 452: The road to heaven is paved with pavlova

Happy Friday! I am putting off going out into the blowing rain to bring a secret santa present in to a kid who forgot it. The kids are miffed about the rain in general, because it’s washing away all the snow right before Christmas. But I am not mad about the break from the freezing cold! So maybe I am looking forward to going out into the rain, after all.

I should warn you, I’ve gotten VERY crafty lately. Some people feel guilty for not doing a lot of crafts at Christmas. Please don’t do that to yourself! I enjoy crafting, and that is literally the only reason I do it. No moral issues whatsoever, except that I’m trying to be better about cleaning up after myself afterwards, or at very least not getting so much glue on Damien’s work table. Ok, you have now been warned re: the crafts!

Here’s what we ate this week:

SATURDAY
Leftovers and pizza pockets

Saturday was just a regular errands day, and I got my skeleton pals decorated for Christmas.

Not the most creative display, but they look pretty cheerful.

Saturday evening, I got busy and made ten little pavlova balls, a batch of lemon curd, a batch of raspberry coulis, and a dozen sugared raspberries. I’d been drooling over this recipe for pavlova bombs from Recipe Tin Eats, but it was too much work for a regular dessert, and no one in the family would want it for their birthday. NO ONE BUT ME, THAT IS. And it was almost my birthday!

SUNDAY
Adults Chinese food; kids ravioli; pavlova bombs for all

Sunday after Mass, Damien had to work, but I spent a very pleasant afternoon stringing lights all over the living room and dining room and tree. Actually the tree part was less pleasant, because I thought and thought and thought about which way I wanted to string the lights together so that they would end up with the right end of the plug at the bottom, and I still messed it up. I think I probably plugged it into itself somehow, which helps no one. Also I was listening to my favorite Christmas album, but it was a bad connection and kept stopping and starting, and I was getting a little huffy.

So I begged the kids to help me, and they obligingly got up and unstrung all the lights, so I could start over. While they were taking the lights off the tree, Damien came in, and they instantly started trying to convince him Christmas was over and he had slept through it.

And there we have the duality of teenagers: They are good kids, but they are terrible kids.

Then Damien and I went out to eat! (My actual birthday was Monday, but weekend birthdays are better.) We had pork buns and egg rolls, and I had some kind of sizzling triple delight situation

and it earned its name. Then we came home and I put together the pavlova bombs!

The reason I made the pavlovas the night before is because the way to keep them from cracking is to bake them, turn off the oven, and then leave them in there for a long time to cool down very, very slowly. So I left them in there overnight, and then took them out in the morning and covered them with plastic wrap. Then on Sunday evening, I whipped some cream and put the lemon and raspberry filing in pastry bags, and assembled the sugared raspberries and some mint leaves, and Benny chopped up some roast pistachios for me.

Here’s all the elements. Don’t the pavlovas look pretty? They’re so dainty and glossy, but they’re very stable.

To fill the pavlovas, I poked a hole with a skewer in the bottom and swizzled it around inside a bit to make room for the fillings. First I put in the raspberry coulis, which was pretty thin, so it was really more like letting it drip in, than piping it in. Then I piped in the lemon curd until the pavlova was full. Then I plugged the hole with a dab of whipped cream, turned it over, and topped it with a big blob of whipped cream. Then each one got garnished with a sugared raspberry, a few mint leaves, and a sprinkle of chopped pistachios.

Prettiest thing I’ve ever made in the kitchen.

And when you break them open, they’re even prettier!

Absolutely fantastic. The two fillings were wonderfully tart, which was excellent with the sugary pavlova and the cool whipped cream. Then some of the spoonfuls also had the nuts and the mint, and wow, it was just luscious and exciting. The different flavors and textures played with each other SO well.

Nagi’s recipe is clear as a bell, and I have no questions or clarifications. My only tiny quibble is that the lemon curd has lemon zest in it, which is obviously great for the flavor, but not so much for the texture. At first I thought I had let the egg scramble while I was cooking the curd, but it was just the zest. This is the MINOREST of minor quibbles, though, and honestly, if I ever make this again, I’ll probably just follow the recipe exactly again.

Then I got presents! I’m a little embarrassed to be 51 years old and still getting this many presents, but I really love getting presents, so this is what we do. Damien gave me a cheese-making kit, some gorgeous earrings, a special beautiful mug, and Brisbane by Eugene Vodolazkin; Benny gave me a drawing of Our Lady of Guadalupe; Lena gave me a storytelling card game; Sophia gave me some lovely enameled tin earrings; Clara gave me a wonderful mystical blue ceramic bowl she made, and Lucy gave me a pair of socks she knitted for me, with a skull pattern.

Amazing gifts, every last one. Then we retired to watch the new Spinal Tap movie in bed, and it was so gently amusing that I feel asleep halfway through.

Oh, one last thing! These sugared raspberries were so nice.

They’re super easy, but you have to make them ahead of time. You just brush them with egg white and then roll them in sugar. It’s supposed to be sanding sugar, which is more coarse and sparkly than table sugar, but I didn’t have any. The regular sugar turned out great. The raspberries have this fragile little sweet, crackly shell on them that feels really special. Definitely adding this into my arsenal for garnishing future fancy desserts.

MONDAY
Chicken pot pie

Monday I gleefully took out the chicken pot pie I made made and froze before Thanksgiving. I left it wrapped in three layers of tinfoil and heated it up (without thawing it) for a few hours in a lowish oven, and then turned the oven up for about half an hour before supper, until I could hear the pie bubbling.

The very center was still a little cold, so I nuked it and it was great.

Crust still flaky, filling nice and tender and tasty. I was very pleased. I adore chicken pot pie.

We decided that Tuesday would be a Fisher Flop Out day, because the logistics of getting to school were gonna be horrendous. So we stayed up a little late and watched Gremlins, because it turns out I’ve been caring too deeply about a lot of the wrong things most of my life, and it’s actually an okay movie, whatever. The story about how she found out Santa isn’t real gets me every time.

TUESDAY
Aldi pizza

Tuesday, Damien and I took a kid for a long-awaited medical appointment out of state, and we are gone alllllll day. When we got back, Damien dropped me and kid off at home, then got some pizza and cooked it and I basically just ate pizza and flopped around exhaustedly and then went to bed.

WEDNESDAY
Roast beef sandwiches, chips

On Wednesday, I cooked a hunk of roast beef in the morning, again following the first part of this recipe from Sip and Feast. I dry brined it with kosher salt, pepper, onion powder, and garlic powder for 90 minutes, then cooked it at 500 for 15 minutes, then turned it down to 300 and let it cook for another half hour or so. Then I let it cool, wrapped it in plastic wrap, and put it in the fridge. Cut up some tomatoes and put some nice smoked gouda on a platter, and put everything away.

Then I set out and dropped off some paperwork, loaded a bunch of clothes into the dryer at the laundromat, picked up the kids, and went to . . . deep breath . . . Five Below and Old Navy and Barnes and Noble and Michael’s, and then back to the laundromat, and when we got home, BOY were my feet glad I had already mostly made supper. Damien sliced up the meat and we had lovely, lovely sandwiches.

I put mine under the broiler to melt the cheese, then added the tomatoes and some horseradish sauce. An absolute delight of a sandwich. (You may recall that, last time I made roast beef sandwiches, the oven died before I could toast the bread properly, and then you may recall that the moment after Damien fixed the oven, the dryer broke. You are now all caught up with Fisher Appliance Calamities, except that the trick that makes my car start stopped working, and we think maybe the alternator damaged the battery. Whatever, it’s fine, it’s whatever!)

That evening, I made 22 of these little 12-pointed paper stars. I made a little video to show how it’s done.

While I snipped, I listened to Christmas With the Louvin Brothers

which is just a great album. I prefer this so VASTLY over those smarmy 50’s cocktail lounge versions of these songs that everyone thinks of as essential Christmas music. Start your kids on this album young, so they’re not jerks about it when they get older!

THURSDAY
Ham, peas, mashed potatoes

I really don’t know what I did all day Thursday. I think I slept late and then ???. Oh, I did some sad banking and then spent an absurdly long time trying and failing to buy a dryer. Like, I want to give Home Depot my money, and allegedly they also want that? But you’d never know it, by the way their website is. (BAD.)

It was a rare day in which I hadn’t done any dinner prep, so thank goodness for ham. When we got home, I sliced it up and put it in a dish with some water, covered it with tinfoil, and put it in the oven to warm up (it was already cooked, and it heats up faster if it’s sliced) and then quickly made some mashed potatoes and heated up some peas.

I didn’t take a picture, but here are twelve photos of the last twelve times I made this exact same meal, each time to wild acclaim from my family:

Nobody can open a bag of frozen peas like me, I tell you.

Thursday night, I hung up all the stars I had made

The yellow ones are made with this paper from Michael’s that comes in four related shades in one pack. I used three different shades for each star, and I like the effect. I also got some red foil paper, and was annoyed to discover it is only foil on one side! Oh well.

I also sliced up a bunch of oranges to dry. I put the slices on baking racks on a pan in a 250 oven for about two hours, flipping them every half hour or so.

They were still somewhat juicy at this point, but they were starting to get little brown marks from the racks, so I just left them out to air dry more overnight.

FRIDAY
Fish tacos, guacamole

Oranges still a little damp! That’s okay; they’re dry enough to work with.

It’s raining, as I mentioned, but I was already kind of sweaty from yoga, so I went out and clipped a bunch of pine needles for some stars I want to make. I think the oranges, some cranberries, and these stars will make a really pretty garland. I like making Christmas decorations that will continue to look bright and pretty after Christmas, when there is still plenty of winter left and we will need some color. Here is a garland from a few years ago, that we left up long after Christmas:

This one has oranges, lemons, limes, and grapefruit, but this year I’m just doing oranges.

So then I discovered that the Christmas card I made for a dear friend, and which I had miraculously chased everybody in the house down to sign, had somehow gotten wet, and I set about making a replacement card and maybe went a little crackerdog over this for various reasons, at which point Damien suggested that HE could go to the laundromat, mail my card, drop off the forgotten secret santa present, go to adoration, and pick up the kids, and I didn’t even have to put pants on. Then he brought me some coffee and headed out into the rain. I guess I will go wipe the glue off his worktable, and then we will be even.

We’ve heading into the home stretch of Chanukah

and I am thinking about blintzes and latkes and maybe sufganiyot. Heck, maybe I will make one or more of those tonight. The kids are not crazy about fish tacos, but nobody can resist a jelly donut. Yeah, I think I will make some jelly donuts. Usually I follow a King Arthur recipe, but I think I will try Smitten Kitchen’s version this year. Smitten Kitchen has been very good to us lately, and I like the looks of those donuts.

Rebecca's chicken bacon pie

Ingredients

double recipe of pie crust
1 pound bacon, diced
4 ribs celery, diced OR one big bunch of leeks, diced
1 onion, diced
1 bunch thyme, finely chopped
3 chicken breasts, diced
2-3 potatoes, peeled and diced
6 Tbsp butter
6 Tbsp flour
3 cups concentrated chicken broth (I use almost double the amount of bouillon to make this)
2 Tbsp pepper
egg yolk for brushing on top crust

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 425.
In a large pan, cook the bacon pieces until they are browned. Take the cooked bacon out and pour off most of the grease.
Add the onion and celery to the remaining bacon grease and cook, stirring, until soft. Return the bacon to the pan.
Add the thyme, pepper, and butter and cook until butter is melted. Add the flour and whisk, cooking for another few minutes.
Whisk in the chicken broth and continue cooking for a few more minutes until it thickens up. Stir in the chicken and potato and keep warm, stirring occasionally, until you're ready to use it.
Pour filling into bottom crust, cover with top crust, brush with beaten egg. Bake, uncovered, for about an hour. If it is browning too quickly, cover loosely with tin foil.

The long game of Advent parenting

I don’t mean to alarm you, but it’s almost Christmas. Advent — what’s left of it — is a time of preparation, but unless you live a very unusual life, you probably need some time to prepare for this season of preparation.

We have done various things over the years to try to make Advent a season of anticipation that leads up to a day of Christ-centered joy, rather than a month-long wallow in decorations and cookies that leads to a volcano of presents. We fail every single year.

But we do always try. The nice thing about Christmas is that it’s a birth, and that means it’s a beginning, not a culmination. Call me hopeful or call me delusional, but I always feel like as long as we TRY, then we’re getting Advent and Christmas right.

So this is how we try: We set aside the day after Thanksgiving as Jesse Tree Day. And that is about all we do the day after Thanksgiving. The kids are home from school, nobody expects me to cook anything elaborate, and God has granted me the gift of a profound unwillingness to rush out and shop for amazing Black Friday deals at Target. So Friday is the day of getting ready to get ready.

The first step is to choose a list of Jesse Tree readings. The idea is to find one that more or less matches up with the actual calendar. Advent begins Dec. 3 this year, but if we end up with one that starts on Dec. 1, it doesn’t matter that much, because we know we’re going to miss some days anyway, so it all evens out. Then I print it out, round up the kids, and read off the symbols, and they dibs the ones they want to do.

Some years, I get fancy and buy special paint markers and a bunch of blank capiz shell discs with holes drilled in them, so we end up with a set of more or less uniform ornaments. Other years, I just open the infamous craft cabinet and pull out everything that looks like it won’t cry if you put glue on it. (This is my first act of Christmas Generosity: I renounce my claim on anything I put out on the table. If you’re not going to use the good stuff for getting ready for Jesus, then what in the world are you saving it for?)

Then I start some music going. In this house, we do not listen to Christmas music before the day after Thanksgiving; and the very first one we listen to is “A Medieval Christmas” by The Boston Camerata. The kids groan and complain, but I’m a big believer in building unwilling fondness through repetition. I choose my battles with music, but I insist on this one at least once a year. This is my first act of Christmas Bullying, which is also an essential part of the season, if you’re in charge of other people.

So then I toss the list with names into the middle of the craft heap, and I leave the room. The kids are going to be incredibly mean to each other while they work, which is just how they show affection; and they are going to make an insane mess, which is something I don’t need to see happening. This is my first act of Christmas Surrender. Some things are beyond my control, and it’s very good to keep this in mind and not waste emotional energy getting upset about it.

Read the rest of my latest monthly column for Our Sunday Visitor.

A hymn for the end of the w̶o̶r̶l̶d̶ year

Someone on Twitter asked, “What is your favorite line from a hymn—one line that is so rich, you think on it over and over again?”

How strange and wonderful to read the responses. I was familiar with some of the verses that people carried with them, and had never heard of others. Some seemed like things that any human would take comfort from, and others pointed to the fact that there certainly are all sorts of people in the world with all kinds of taste; there certainly are.

My own choice? “He is Alpha and Omega; He the source, the ending, He.” This is from “Of the Father’s Love Begotten,” the most musically and textually perfect hymn I know, and it has come back to me, over and over again, since the day I first heard it. Listen:

It is a doctrinal hymn, which explains why it gives you so much to think about (not that more emotional, lyrical ideas can’t grip your mind and stay with you!)

Of the Father’s love begotten
ere the worlds began to be,
he is Alpha and Omega,
he the Source, the Ending he,
of the things that are, that have been,
and that future years shall see,
evermore and evermore!

I’ll add the rest of the verses at the end. This hymn is a flawless marriage between sound and sense. This recording begins with what I consider the ideal arrangement: A single male voice with no accompaniment but some medieval bells and chimes. This puts it into that otherworldly space of quiet brilliance on blackness, as if you’re witnessing something outside of time, which is what the song is about.

The first two lines, “Of the Father’s love begotten/ere the worlds began to be” climb up and then slightly down the scale somewhat tentatively, like an explorer coming upon something that compels him but fills him with awe; but “ere the worlds began to be” ends on a long note, searching for a clear view of what we’re talking about. And then we see it: In “He is Alpha and Omega,/He the source, the ending he,” the voice rises and then returns back down, digs down and then climbs back up, with the tune following the sense of the words: Wherever you go, Christ is there. Then finally, with the last three lines, I hear a little portrait of human life: “Of the things that are” gets a quick mention, and then “that ha-a-a-a-ave been” gets a more lingering treatment, because my gosh, we have been through a lot. And then “and that future years shall see” is almost muttered in a lower voice, because it is still shrouded in the future; but then: Evermore and evermore! Ah, back to Jesus. It’s always Him. All is cared for, in him. Nothing is unaccounted for.

You guys, I got so lost this year. I can’t explain it here, but I became angry and hurt and confused, and I turned my back on Jesus until I couldn’t even remember what the big deal was anymore. You get used to being cold and you don’t feel cold anymore, and you forget what it’s like to be warm. But it is coming back to me.

I hear all the jokes about how 2021 is just going to be another miserable year, and how foolish it is to hope for something better. But I can’t help it! It’s not about the things that ha-a-a-a-ave been and that future years shall see. It’s about Jesus. I know everything’s a big mess. But nothing is unaccounted for; no one will be lost or forgotten. He is so bright and so good, evermore and evermore.

Everyone who reads this, I pray for comfort and solace, answers and illumination, and rest in Jesus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 O that birth forever blessed,
when the Virgin, full of grace,
by the Holy Ghost conceiving,
bore the Savior of our race;
and the babe, the world’s Redeemer,
first revealed his sacred face,
evermore and evermore!

3 This is he whom heav’n-taught singers
sang of old with one accord,
whom the Scriptures of the prophets
promised in their faithful word;
now he shines, the long expected;
let creation praise its Lord,
evermore and evermore!

4 O ye heights of heav’n, adore him;
angel hosts, his praises sing:
all dominions, bow before him
and extol our God and King;
let no tongue on earth be silent,
ev’ry voice in concert ring,
evermore and evermore!

5 Christ, to thee, with God the Father,
and, O Holy Ghost, to thee,
hymn and chant and high thanksgiving
and unwearied praises be,
honor, glory, and dominion
and eternal victory,
evermore and evermore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Image: Christ Anapenos (Eyes never-closed) Icon – By the hands of Christian Tombiling, of Indonesian Eastern Catholic Community CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons . The description reads: Christ is sitting on His bed with arms supporting His head, watching over us. He is inside the cave, eventhough the cave is too small to bear Him. Background is sky of star. The inscription is written, taken from the Psalm 120: “Behold he shall neither slumber nor sleep, that keepeth Israel”

Oh, that final verse!

Drive down the road on December 26 and beyond, and you’ll see a bunch of denuded Christmas trees kicked to the curb because their owners think Christmas is now over. They may have sung Christmas songs at their house, but they haven’t listened to the final verse.

And that final verse is vital. Take, for instance, one of my favorite Christmas songs: “Would I Were Nigh”:*

This is my favorite kind of Christmas carol: gentle, tender, and spare, with enough details to make the scene human, but also eliciting a sense of wonder.

You can see on the sheet music that the choir director wanted the singers to perform the first verse, to skip verses 3-5 for brevity, and to end with the final verse. And that final verse is there for a reason.

The first five verses express a subjunctive longing to have been present at the actual birth of Our Lord – to see “the oxen lie beside Him” – to watch Joseph keep “a watchful eye for danger” while the baby sleeps — to see the shepherds “lend ragged coats to hide Him.”

But the final verse is even more reflective: “Would I were there . . .” he says, “Yet everywhere, I too can beg His blessing; Then go my way, by night or day, safe through a world distressing.” And that one thought deftly rescues the entire song from any hint of fantasy or sentimentalism: we don’t have to daydream or wish, because no matter who, where, or when we are, the scene is real. The Incarnation of our Lord is present to us. The luminous child lights the way through every era.

I haven’t thrown out our Christmas tree. Our decorations are still up, and we’re still lighting our Advent wreath throughout the Octave of Christmas, singing Christmas songs instead of Advent ones. We’re still feasting, still pressing ourselves to treat each other with extra care and tenderness, because Christmas isn’t over. And yet I woke up in the middle of the night in distress, feeling like I missed the mark this year. Our Christmas was too busy, too secular, too focused on externals and not enough on the Christ Child. Somehow, I hadn’t seen Christmas through to its end.

Well, of course I hadn’t.

Just as with the folks who toss out their trees on December 26th, I make a mistake if I pin all my hopes for peace and joy and love on Christmas day, or really on any single day. If I do make this mistake, it’s because I haven’t listened to the song all the way through. I’m leaving off the final verse, and that one is vital.

The final verse, not only in the song but in anything that God is trying to tell us, says: “This story, your story, doesn’t end with death.” If we’re not getting everything we need in this world, if we don’t feel satisfied, if we feel adrift and alone and incomplete, if we feel that we’re always missing the mark, that’s because we haven’t gotten to the end of the song yet. We haven’t yet gotten to the final verse, which rescues all the others from fantasy.

The most accurate “final verse” we can sing is the one the Church teaches us: We wait in joyful hope, and that includes joyful hope for our own salvation through Christ’s efforts, not through our own. Don’t skip that verse.

The light of the Christ child is not meant be contained in a single day. It stretches from that night in Bethlehem to our present day, and it also stretches out ahead of us, into the future, as we wait for Him to come again and set all things right, in our own lives and in the “world distressing.”

So if this season feels all too distressing to you – if you are alone, or if you are suffering, or if bad memories seep through and make this time of year awful, or even if we ourselves are the cause of that distress — remember that we’re all still in that subjunctive phase.

There’s nothing wrong with us if we feel incomplete. We are incomplete. The final verse is yet to come. Oh, that final verse! It’s worth waiting for.

***

*from An Irish Carol Book (McLaughlin and Reilly) compiled by Fr. John Fennelly, arranged by Fr. Fennelley and J. Gerald Phillips, my sister’s choir director in college. I can’t find a recording anywhere, so here is the music (thanks to Sam Schmitt for hunting down and sharing the sheet music!)

A version of this essay first appeared in the National Catholic Register in 2015.

Maite Roche Advent Calendar giveaway! Introducing Sister|Sinjin! and a little punching.

Advent begins in less than a week! This year’s Advent is the longest that Advent can possibly be, but it surely came up quickly, didn’t itly? I have three lovely things to share with you.

One is Incarnation, a new Christmas album by Sister|Sinjin, a musical group made up of Elizabeth Duffy (a fellow Patheos alum) and two of her friends, one Catholic and one Lutheran.

From one of the blog posts giving some background about the project:

Once we realized we were a band and began thinking of a name, we knew we would feel inclined to self-identify more as mothers than musicians. Our various experiences of motherhood certainly bear down on these songs.

When I’ve been pregnant (I have six children) I almost always fall into a depression, inability to pray, distance from God, and a heavy darkness that lifts almost immediately once I’ve given birth. In the midst of those pregnancies, I’ve thought more than once that I should name my child for the author of The Dark Night of the Soul, St. John of the Cross.

As Kaitlyn notes, creativity often springs from this sometimes painful, always holy duty to bear and support the lives of others.

We hope you enjoy these songs, which both extend from, and are an homage to the darkening season of waiting for new life in our Beloved Savior.

Very beautiful stuff. You can hear a sample of two of the tracks here, and you can pre-order the album, which comes out December 2.

***

Second is a GIVEAWAY of this splendid Gospel Advent calendar by Maïte Roche, one of my all-time favorite Catholic illustrators. The artwork is just luminous (the cell phone photo below doesn’t do it justice), and the calendar opens into a scene that includes all of Bethlehem, with a window to open each day. You can hang it on the wall from a little grommet, or it will stand on its own on a tabletop.

Even better, it comes with a little illustrated companion booklet that provides prayers, short readings, meditations, and suggestions for each day. So much better than the usual routine, where the kids fight over whose turn it is, then mom gets mad and opens it herself, and then you just stand there staring at the little picture of a star or something. It will appeal to children, but would be helpful for adults, as well.

(As you can see, Corrie liked it so much, she took a bite of it, and then threw it in the dog’s water dish. At least I hope it was in that order. If your booklet is not wet, you can even color in the illustrations.)

Thanks to the publisher, Ignatius, I have one calendar to give away! Same rules as last time:

To enter, leave a comment on the blog, and that’s one entry. To get additional entries, share this post on Facebook, Twitter, or Google+ or elsewhere on social media, AND . . . IMPORTANT: Please leave a separate comment for each additional entry you would like to earn.

So if you want three entries, leave one comment saying “Me please!” [or whatever], one comment saying “I shared your post on FB” and one comment saying “I tweeted this post.” And so on.

NOTE: Don’t be concerned if your comment doesn’t show up right away in the combox. The comment moderator is a little strict at the moment, so I’ll be approving comments in batches as time allows. Thanks for your patience!

This will be a quckie contest, since Advent is right at our throats. Contest closes Tuesday, November 22, at noon, and I’ll notify the winners asap.

You can also find the calendar for sale on Amazon and from Ignatius.

***

One last thing: One of these days, I’m gonna make me an Advent calendar like this. Each day leading up to Christmas, you get to punch something, and you get rewarded for it. Uh, for the kids. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Kids these days.

In addition, I would like to say that when I tagged this post music, WordPress suggested the tags “soul music” and “butt music.” That means my archives have arrived, and they’ve brought their tags. Hooray?

Rebecca's chicken bacon pie

Ingredients

Instructions

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