- December 6, 2016
It’s confession time. On November the 29th I ate my first mince pie of the festive season. I know, just a few days too soon, a rule of my own making I confess, but one I had hope to stick too.
I’m no Christmas curmudgeon, no bah humbug monger, not I. I love Christmas in all its gaudy glory, really I do.
But I also love mince pies and being a man of more than ample waist I was hoping to moderate my intake of these delights until December had started. No such luck, or should I say restraint.
They were there on the website as I was doing my online Ocado shop, dangled temptingly in front of me, pimped even. I succumbed.
The night before I had ventured into town on my slowly mending ankle and having disembarked the bus I stood in wonderment looking at the North Street Christmas lights for the first time. I’d read various people’s thoughts online but reserved my judgement until I had seen them for real. Well I’m pleased to report that I was amazed, amazed that so many of you do not like them. Really? I love them, I love the fun of them, the silliness, the huge cheery statements. I even love the fact that if you put yourself on the south side of the street and look west from certain points the “T” in TWINKLE is obscured, leaving just WINKLE and behind that the word FAIRY – it’s just so Brighton!
The temptation of two dozen deadly fattening pies
Anyway, heartened by the spectacle of North Street and the twinkling prettiness of East Street I went about my business knowing that the very next morning the raspberry Ocado van would be delivering my first instalment of edible festive cheer.
I woke early, answered some email, showered and prepared for the groceries to arrive, mainly I hasten to add, things for my cat Willow. There were seven bags in total and in the last one I found the mince pies. I made coffee, settled in my Eames lounger, and took my first bite. It was good, not as good as mum’s, not as good as mine dare I say, but if I make them at home then I have the temptation of two dozen deadly fattening pies and not just six.
There were five left, and I sealed the box up and placed it in my biscuit tin for safe keeping.
It’s December now, the gloves are off, and it’s open season for mince pies, cheese footballs and advocaat snowballs – hooray!