Necessity may be the mother of invention.

But appetite is its nursery maid.

My butcher nearly derailed my whole Christmas menu. I had ordered a hefty pork shoulder to roast for my guests.

He sold it to someone else, leaving me with three skinny, stringy pork loins.

It's amazing what a little imagination, inspiration and a whole lot of bacon can do.

This spontaneous, impromptu menu got me in & out of the kitchen, all the way to the dining table in two hours.

The pork was sumptuous, unctuous and utterly sublime.

(But as you can see, my guests were more smitten with the cupcakes!)

'I can't sell you what I haven't got'

This was my butcher's reply to my dumbfounded 'what-do-you-mean-you-haven't-got-my-pork?!'

'I mean I haven't got your meat.'

I'm not proud to admit that there were trantrums, threats and even bribes on my side of the counter.

In any case, I arrived home with my three supposed 'tender'loins.

And almost three pounds of very streaky bacon.

Surely bacon is the wonderbra for an underwhelming cut of meat.

In short, I laid the bacon strips out in a blanket, made a stuffing of candy-soft dates, sweet chestnuts, molasses and cinnamon. Spread it over the bacon, wrapped the pork loin up in it and secured it with cloves. Viola Piggy #1.

Piggy #2 was also wrapped in bacon but with plump, orange scented apricots wedged inside. It was also buttoned up with cloves.

Piggy # 3 was a saltier affair: after a roll in some Parmesan, garlic and oregano, he was fastened up snug with toothpicks.

Looking much plumper, three little pigs went into the oven and about a half hour later they emerged juicy, smoky, sizzling and ready to be plundered.

All my guests tucked in; trying each stuffing and heading their own way for second helpings.

And the leftovers?

What leftovers?!

Just in case you're wondering what I had been planning to serve...

...and you have a butcher who isn't a total charlatan...

Rosy is my standard Christmas Roast.

Having spent 30 minutes preparing the pork loins, I now turned my attention to the foxy starches.

There is nothing like an ample dish of hot, crispy potatoes to make everyone feel good.

You can honestly see everyone (even the kids) doing the math on how many potatoes are in the dish and how many people are sitting around the table.

Simple division.

The answer should always be 'lots for me!'

Just peel

Quarter

Season

And cook in very hot fat.

Absolutely perfect!

(or splurge and buy some goose fat)

The 3 little piggies were resting, the potatoes were sizzling away.

Time to think green.

I tossed a bag of Brussels sprouts into the microwave for 2 minutes.

Trimmed the bottoms off them and sliced them in half.

Tossed them cut-side down into a hot buttered skillet.

Sprinkled with salt, pepper and freshly grated nutmeg.

A handful of leftover chestnuts for good measure.

Bit of a shake of the skillet, a good drizzle of olive oil and a dusting of grated Parmesan cheese. Maybe a few chili flakes.

Mmm!

Hey, where'd they go?

I thought everyone hated sprouts?

My 3 year old goddaughter is obsessed with cupcakes.

(It might be my fault)

I am certain that if I baked 26 cupcakes and wrote A-B-C on them then she would learn her alphabet in a half hour.

She'd also have a wicked sugar hangover.

But it worked brilliantly having a cupcake tower and some icing pens in a pot. The kids at the table got to decorate the cupcakes whilst we all ate in (relative) peace.

For a second (just barely) they even forgot that there was a tree and a mountain of presents in the next room!

There's no escaping fruit cake at Christmas.

So you may as well cave in and bake your own boozy delight.

Hemingway loiters around my kitchen every year. Anyone dropping in gets a slice and a cup of tea.

If I don't feel inclined to make a dessert, he's there; rich and sweet and fragrant.

I'm gonna miss the old fella when he's gone!

This is intoxicatingly superior to regular cranberry sauce. It's the kind of easy chutney that makes you gloss over Christmas dinner because you can't wait to spread lashings on leftover ham, sliced off the bone on Boxing Day. You can't wait to have it with hot pasties made from the scraps of roast turkey. You can't wait to dive into a seasonal ploughman's lunch with sharp cheddar, sliced apples and chutney (maybe all wedged into a crusty baguette!)

It's very tricky, pay attention: Stud the cloves into the apple. Put everything into the saucepan and bring to a steady simmer. Stir a bit occasionally. In about 30-40 minutes, it will have boiled down and thickened nicely.

Great with grilled sausages and mash for an easy dinner!

There is always a lopsided mountain of Panettones in my home over Christmas. God bless those Italians; the pretty domed boxes look lovely, but they don't stack too well! No wonder there are leaning towers and so forth!

I buy some to have as gifts for folks who, frankly, hadn't made my gift list...

...I receive an equal quantity (hmm...was I not on their list?)

And then there are the good ones that I buy purely for myself.

Point being there are always plenty to play around with.

I sliced this one into inch thick rounds, dipped each fruity disc in some beaten egg and fried it up in butter.

The discs were re-constructed into a vague resemblance of their former domed tower, doused in maple syrup and served in gooey wedges with strong coffee.

A perfect Christmas breakfast.

They tend to gravitate towards a habit the way a planet finds its path around a sun.

My Christmases here in Hollywood have developed a particular routine:

I gather any orphans left in town at El Conquistador for an 11 am margarita, then we all go home for a nap and at 4pm, I open house and serve baked ham, buttermilk biscuits, mac n' cheese and plum pudding.

It's simple, it's tasty and it's fun. And there is a place for everyone.

May your Christmas be exactly that.

cheers, Mannix PS: Thanks to Lisa and the 'X'ers for talking me down off the tenderloin ledge.

mannix@thelovebite.com