Christmas debauchery

I never got round to, at the time, blogging the most extravegant meal that occurred over the Christmas break. It was a fantastic mixture of the rustic and the astronomically decadent - and what more does one really want from a meal? I have to admit to not having actually read any food blogs for a while (lack of time, whatever) and having a browse this evening I was struck by how fussy so many people are with their home cooking. It's home, guys, not a restaurant! why not cook the kind of stuff you never eat in a restaurant rather than create over-the-top confections that will never be as good as the real thing in whatever fancy joint you are imitating. I'm not going to name names (or, in the way of blogging, link links) as that would be mean, but I'm sure y'all know what I mean...

So, our rustic-decadent feast. What can you say to a meal where you start off with half a pound of two different kinds of caviar. Yes, that's one whole pound of caviar between four of us. Iranian Oscietra vs. some farmed French caviar. A tasting. On home-made blinis (my mother triumphed; they were light and fantastic) with nothing else. Just a tiny blini, a gloriously heaped spoonful of ice-cold caviar, into mouth, minor orgasm and repeat. Until you are reduced to licking the spoon and passing fingers around the tin. Washed down with neat Stolichnaya all gloopy from having been in the freezer. In the interests of anyone's research into caviar, the Oscietra was lighter in colour and subtler in taste, the French very black, tangier and stronger. All I can say is thank you to the nameless and incredibly generous friend of ours who brought the goods. We, quite obviously, don't have that kinda cash lying around.

But what we do have, hiding away in the cellar, is some damn fine wine. So, the next course; the rustic, in the form of boiled salt beef, a mound of crunchy quick-sauted shredded cabbage, and potato latkes, alongside the sublime (again, a double tasting) - a 1970 Chateau Montrose, and a 1983 Grand Puy Lacoste. Life is tough. Again, we tasted, savoured slowly, measuring the astonishing depth and fruit that both wines (especially the Montrose) still had. They were both still dark in colour and long, full without losing good leanness and acidity, complex, changing as time went by and absolutely delicious. We were quite astonished at how youthful they still tasted. My father, true to form, started telling tales of his old days roving around Bordeaux in search of fine wine for Adnams - including a lunch at one chateau with a group of friends, where course followed course and wine followed wine, until it had grown dark but the conversation still flowed. Apparently, noticing the time, the owner said something along the lines of why stop now and called out to his housekeeper 'Hortense, serve dinner!'. And the night carried on.

We finished with a fantastic fresh apricot crumble. Coffee, dark bitter chocolate. We joked about calling for breakfast, but in truth we were sated, savoring the tastes left in our mouths, ready to crawl into bed. I certainly had sweet dreams. Who needs fancy dishes and pretty drizzles of sauce when you can have a plateful of salt beef and a glass of 1970 Montrose?

Update: Good job we ate all that caviar. It's now been banned!