Is there no end to my fount of trite captions?

Well, you'll have to pardon me, but this year was the first time that I hit the markets to do my Christmas shopping and stumbled upon my favourite fruit.

Quinces.

Everywhere!

In the 'Whole Pay Check' markets and the little ethnic grocery stores.

There they were, crooked little orbs of pleasure.

I did a check in some chat rooms. And what do you know, they are still around in other countries too!

There was only one thing to do; use them in my Christmas dinner.

Half of the lost angels of Los Angeles are still moaning with delight and licking their lips.

Need a way to keep the relatives out of your cooking sherry over Christmas Lunch?

Then give 'em some quince!

If you've never cooked with quinces before, you are about to learn that they are the lowest- maintenance, highest pleasure fruit in the world.

But you have to cook them.

Whenever I see them, I grab the lot, race home and get 'em in the oven. The house smells incredibly edible and you'll have the foundation for toast toppings, meat and cheese spreads and endless no fuss desserts.

Peel about 6 quinces with your vegetable peeler, cut them in half, top to bottom (careful, they are hard and you will need to use a good knife). Slice them in quarters, then core them, then slice each quarter in half.

Make a syrup using 5 cups of warm water, 3 cups of sugar and 1 cup of honey. Add 1 split vanilla bean and, if you have it, a meyer lemon cut in half.

Pour the syrup and sliced quinces into a baking dish and put them in a slow oven (300f / 150c).

Come back in 6 hours and open the oven door to heaven.

Store the quinces in your fridge covered in the syrup.

Ready for vaguely more ambitious fare?

Then you have to consult the Quince Doyennes; Nigella Lawson, Maggie Beer and Stephanie Alexander. These women have quince recipes which could out do the sirens of Homer in luring men to their ruin. Look up their recipes if you have a chance.

Why was Rosy blushing?

Well, if your loins were laid out on a platter for everyone to admire, you might blush too!

I made a syrup by chopping up a quince, pouring myself a glass of rosé, pouring the rest of the bottle over the quince. Added some blood orange zest. Simmered it all down to a sticky reduction and then poured it over a tray full of halved quinces.

Rosy had been luxuriating in a marinade of citrus and ginger for a few days in my fridge. She was ready for her close-up. I popped her on a wire rack over the quinces and put her in a nice, slow oven for 5-6 hours. (note: choose a roast with a bone and some fat; this adds flavour and tenderness).

The quinces and Rosy got basted frequently in the ever-darkening syrup and by the time they both emerged from the oven, the quinces were beyond- garnet and roasted to fall-apart perfection. Rosy was likewise!

I let her rest to gather herself together whilst I popped in a dish of goosey 'taters and made some buttery peas. Warmed some bread. Popped some corks. Finally, I sprinkled Rosy with some blood orange zest, to chase the sweetness of the quinces.

And you thought Christmas dinner was hard work!

click on the pic for the recipe

Goose fat. Read about it's magical properties in Nigella Lawson's 'Feast'.

Tried it.

Loved it.

Never tried it? Let this be your Christmas miracle. Give the roast spuds an extreme makeover this year.

click on the pic for the recipe

Life is short and, frequently, short on pleasure.

One of the few has to be fresh peas. If you can get some, please do.

Shelling peas has to be the most pleasurably mindless task of putting on a Christmas lunch. They burst forth like giddy kids off a roundabout.

Try serving steaming sprouts and peas with lashings of butter, some lemon zest and oregano.

click on the pic for the recipe

This week, Emmylou Harris played the new Disney Music Hall in LA.

She showed the city of angels what being an angel is all about.

It was a Christmas show, but that didn't stop her singing some of her sad songs:

'There's depressed folk at this time of the year too'

Being sad has never been so delightful.

Anyway, her Christmas album is not sad at all, it is just unforgivably pretty.

Click on the pic to see some of the Christmas cheer that spurred me on my cook-a-long.

If it just isn't Christmas without a turkey, then you can still shake it up a little.

(and no quinces)

For Thanksgiving, I stuffed my turkey with black truffles, porcini mushrooms, pancetta, truffled cheese and ciabatta. loads of pepper and a little salt and olive oil.

Interested in some more specifics? click on the pic to e-mail me.

Don't want to go high-end with the bird? How about taking it to the trailer park? Stuffed turkey meatloaf!

Make a meatloaf with turkey, and when you are forming it, lay a core of herb stuffing. bake it as usual and serve with tater tots and green bean casserole!

' no honey, that's just dessert!'

If you want to induce a collective jaw-drop, bring out this confection.

I made a choux ring and a batch of profiteroles, filled them with a spiced pumpkin custard, grand-marnier drenched gingerbread and whipped cream. Poured hot toffee straight from the skillet onto the puffs and threw a handful of fresh cranberries and clementines onto the plate.

We wound up serving the entire meal back to front. Everyone went straight for the dessert. Profiteroles and a gorgeous, aussie sparkling shiraz to start the meal!

click on the pic for the recipe.

Remember that lonely quince that we chucked in with the rosé when we made the syrup for Rosy?

Well, I made the syrup a day ahead and saved the quince.

So, come Christmas morning, there was the ubiquitous panettone and some cold quince lying around the house. I sliced the panettone around, instead of in wedges and, lo-and-behold, it was skillet sized!

Some melting butter, some pan crisp panettone, some poached quince and blood orange segments. The crowning glory? A dollop of marscapone or creme fraiche.

Could it get any better?

How about a quince champagne cocktail?

The only thing left to do is unwrap!

The presents or yourselves; take your pick!

Someone needs to tell Santa that it's much nicer to be naughty!

Hemingway?

What can I say? This fella knocked off half a bottle of my best brandy and he's way too dense to get through in one sitting.

What's that? You don't like nuts in your fruit cake? Fine, then it's a farewell to almonds!

This is a fruit cake even fruit-cake-haters seem to love.

(Or maybe my friends are all drunks!)

Money's tight (when isn't it?) and gifts that resonate are a rare commodity.

'If you can't give a gift, then give a moment'

(such sage advice from someone who shoves truffles up turkey bottoms)

But seriously, my Christmas memories are all about the irreplaceable moments that I've shared with the people I love.

So whether it's lighting a whole bag of tea-light candles, filling the house with (stolen) boughs from the neighbour's citrus trees, or just a handwritten note recalling your favourite shared times, there are so many ways to create a moment that someone will cherish for years to come

Whatever you celebrate, even if it's just good food, then I hope that you are all happy and safe.

And let the love flow!

cheers, Mannix

mannix@thelovebite.com