I had volunteered to cook Sunday lunch for the assembled hordes rather than make Mum do so; it seemed somehow unfair to force her to slave over a hot stove on what was supposed to be her special weekend. I'd sent Dad a shopping list of stuff to acquire (that I was reasonably sure they'd be able to get locally), I took down a couple of large pans in case Mum didn't have any large enough to roast a couple of ducks in, and off we went.
The finished product wound up as:
- Smoked salmon and rye bread to start;
- Roasted duck with port and jasmine tea sauce, with tea-infused sultanas, sweet potato casserole, spiced red cabbage, and fine green beans steamed with sea salt and lime;
- Chocolate cake (from Waitrose) for dessert
It seemed to go down well with all concerned; apart from a couple of minor bobbles with a pan not fitting in the oven (solution: find a smaller pan), a saucepan not having sufficient capacity (solution: find the bigger saucepan which was being used as an oil storage container), and a fair-sized helping of "Mum? Where do you keep the...", everything wound up cooked at the same time, not overdone, not underdone, not sprayed all over the kitchen... result.