Goosing Christmas

It's Girlie, again, taking over the hallowed halls of the Kooking Korner.

So, how many of you have heard of a Christmas goose?

Now, how many have actually EATEN a Christmas goose? 

Just because this was a tradition in Victorian England, and not so much in 21st century southern America, wasn't going to stop us from partaking.  Husbear was even able to find a local goose, raised (and slaughtered) by Sebastian of Countryside Farm Products.  It was a bit costly, but turned out to be totally worth it!

Not only did we drive this goose over from Austin to Mandeville, we also brought a half a hog... about 100 pounds of pig.  That will have to wait for another post; for now, can I just say that the freezer is full of pork and pork derivatives?

Our goose, of course, still had its head, neck and feet.  No, I won't subject you to a picture of its face, since I know that gets to some people... how about a foot, instead?

The recipe Husbear wanted to do is straight out of the Supergoose essay Jeffrey Steingarten wrote for Vogue, which can be found in It Must've Been Something I Ate.  It's a riff on a traditional Alsatian recipe and is a little labor-intensive.

First, you have to grab all of the excess fat out of the goose cavity, then season the raw cavity and fill it with chopped apples.

As far as I'm concerned, that sounds great and I can't imagine what else you'd do... but wait, there's more.

Then you brown the goose on all sides in its own fat in your roasting pan.  Yum.  Goose fat turns out to be insanely tasty, totally different from duck fat.

When you get it good and brown (20-30 minutes later), then you put it in the oven to roast by itself for a while (another 20-30 minutes).

You can tell that this recipe isn't difficult, exactly, but there isn't a lot of downtime.  While the goose is browning, for instance, you need to be chopping all of the vegetables that will soon be accompanying it into the oven. 

When you're done, take the goose out and surround it with chopped carrots, celery, celeriac and pears.  Pour some chicken stock and white wine over the fruits and vegetables, and pop the whole thing back in the oven.

You'd think that here, the recipe would be just about done making you jump, but no... after everything roasts for a while, take the pan out of the oven again and get the apples out of the goose.  Put the apples and pears together back in the oven, and what the heck, throw the goose back in there too, because you're up and the goose isn't quite done.

When the goose, along with everything else, IS finally done, take it out of the oven and arrange everything really prettily on a serving platter that will turn out to be just a hair too small for actually carving the bird.

It really did look quite pretty, set up on the serving platter, and Husbear made a nice pan sauce out of some of the seventy-three cups of drippings we got off the bird.  Since this was my first goosey experience, I don't know if they're all quite this fatty, but I can tell you this was one fatbutted bird.

Husbear served the goose with a rice pilaf.  As you can see, he bravely (some might whisper "stupidly") elected to carve the bird right there on the dinner line.  Wow.  He did a very good job, though several family members came very close to getting nicked a bit when reaching for slices of delicious goose that hadn't quite been detached from the carcass.

So, the verdict?  Goose is tasty.  It is very tasty.  Vegetables and fruit roasted with a goose and some wine and orange zest are magically flavorful.  I know this is a hard bird to get a hold of in many parts of the US, but it is worth it for a special holiday.  You know, like Christmas.

Hey, do you think that's why the Christmas Goose is such an archetype?

It's a bonus if you have a mother-in-law who's really good at making desserts, and who has just so happened to get her hands on a Galatoire's cookbook.  Then you might be lucky enough to get served a sweet potato cheesecake with a sour cream topping and a caramel sauce.

Though there was some cursing from the kitchen over the caramel sauce, which doesn't seem to be recorded correctly in the cookbook.  (Well, it was Mama Bear, so by cursing, I actually mean lots of "Oh, shoot.  Shoot shoot shoot.  Shoot!")

 

The cheesecake is also served with spiced pecans, that help to break up the sweetness.  It's certainly rich - a great recipe to follow an equally rich bird like our afore- and aft-mentioned goose.

What to do with leftover goose?  Well, how about a soup, with barley and dandelion greens?

This soup was worth all the trouble of the initial goose recipe.  It was rich and dark and lovely and perfect for a 60 degree New Orleans night.  Hey, it's tending towards cold down here now!  (I will have you know it's actually supposed to get down to 28 tonight.  I know it's no, well, -28, but it's pretty cold for here.)

Mmmm.... anyway, soup.

And that was our Christmas dinner!  Check back later, when I'll attempt to whittle down the 400 hog pictures we have into some semblance of a post.  Plus we went to New Orleans and drank lots of sazeracs (and absinthe, newly legal!) and ate several dozen oysters and an original muffuletta.  Yeah, I went to the gym today - why?

Comments

[Chuck]

The duck looks amazing with the glazed apples and pears but, the soup looks so delicious.

[girlie]

Thanks, Chuck! The soup was very good - I think some people may have liked it more than the goose!

Beautiful baking on your blog, by the way.