Christmas Day

I spent Christmas Day with my parents and brother. For breakfast I cooked some sausage patties and eggs. I put the eggs on English muffins with rosemary ham and Gouda cheese then grilled them on my mom's new panini press. (She likes mine so much she bought herself one for Christmas.) My brother had his sandwich with sausage and no eggs. He claims he doesn't like eggs anymore after he had one in Cuba a few months ago and got violently ill. I respected that, although part of me just thinks he was saying that to remind me that he got to go to Cuba. (I am very jealous.)

For lunch I made a beer cheese soup. I cooked some mirepoix in a couple bottles of Deschutes Black Butte Porter (I took a picture of the beer in front of a Christmas plate because it looks like Santa just opened the beer,) then strained it. I put the beer in a pot with some green onions and added three different kinds of cheese: Gouda, Jarlsberg, and cheddar. After cooking it for a little bit I put it in bowls with some bacon and croutons. The soup was good although I should have reduced the beer more. (I left half a bowl in the fridge, though, and the next day it was thicker and I spread it on some sourdough bread. It was much better eaten that way than as soup.)

For dinner I made my take on a shepherd's pie. I cooked some New Zealand ground lamb in a pan with carrots and peas. I put that in a serving dish and covered it with mashed potatoes. I cooked that in the oven for about 45 minutes, then added some grated gouda cheese and parsley to the top and cooked it another 15 minutes. After I cut off a piece my brother added a dusting of paprika to the top. This did nothing for the meal, but did make it look more Christmasy (is that a word?)