Posh Christmas? How about a ruined nut roast for two Hindus?

Now that the dog has snaffled the last of the turkey and the Brussel sprouts are wizening nicely at the bottom of the vegetable basket, this week’s return to work has been peppered with finding out how friends and colleagues got on over the Christmas. Most people tell you it was quiet, that the kids had a good time and they’re glad it’s over really, delighted to get back to normal.

But it’s always secretly good to hear how Christmas for others was a ‘ total disaster’, ‘a nightmare’ and a ‘never again’ event, especially if it’s the Posh Sister and her tale of how it ended up with two random Hindus turning up for lunch.

The Posh Sister lives in a posh area of Dublin in a house that is so small that when she told me she received a yoga mat as a Christmas gift from the Husband, I said she could use it to carpet her living room, right? So, when the maw in law offered a Christmas lunch, which the Posh Sister’s husband would have to cook but no matter, at her big, posh old pile, our lassie jumped at the chance for more space.

Unfortunately for all concerned, at the work party before the festive season, the Posh Sister, in a gin-induced expression of seasonal goodwill, invited a newly arrived Hindu colleague along to the maw in law’s for the dinner at Christmas. Well, invited is the wrong phrase. ‘Strongly insisted’ and ‘wouldn’t take no for an answer’ would be nearer the mark. The lady was somewhat surprised by the invite and asked if she could bring her cousin, also a Hindu, along too. The sister, who is generous when it comes to offering other people’s efforts, said: ‘ The more the merrier’.

There was nothing merrier, however, the following day when she rose from her gin soaked slumber and remembered to tell the husband who was in charge of all catering matters. He was none too happy with her, but is a well-bred man and wouldn’t withdraw the invitation.

He then had to presume that his guests were vegetarians. They were, but that was not the end of his problems.

Because it turned out that the colleague was actually a Jain, part of the Hindu religion, but ‘ultra’ for want of a better word. Ultra pacifist and ultra vegetarian. They don’t eat anything that has not fallen off a tree and certainly not the big 14lb turkey the maw in law had responsibly sourced from an organic, local farm.

Sure what else do the poshoes do in this situation? Away to Marks and Spencers with the Posh Husband to source a nut roast, all the while cursing my sister under his breath for her gin-addled grand ideas and her generosity with other people’s time and effort.

There were tight smiles as the guests turned up, waiting for their vegetarian Christmas surprise.

The Husband had to cater, of course, for other people who were not so fussy as to where their greens come from. The sister was not helping too much, preferring to make ‘small talk’ which, without the gin, was a lot harder than she expected.

And the pressure was getting to the Husband as the guests stood around chit-chatting in the kitchen, as he tried to ram everything, including the nut roast, into the oven. But disaster struck when the nut roast fell out of the oven and onto the floor, in front of those who were meant to be eating it, so he didn’t even have the opportunity that, let’s face it, everyone would have taken to scrape it off the floor and served it up no bother, without a word of warning.

The guests looked forlorn as the Posh Sister avoided the killer glares emanating from the Husband. The guests may have got some bread and a lock of Brussel sprouts in the end. But it was posh bread and posh sprouts and in the finish up, that’s probably all that matters.