(advent) December 11

Friday, December 11

“Oh no!”

Both Aunt Margie and Father Christopher, who had been discussing the set up for the carol sing on Sunday, turned to Molly, who was staring at the message that had just popped up on her phone, dismay written large on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Aunt Margie asked, hurrying to her side. “Is it the girls? Is everyone okay?”

Molly shook her head and flushed. “No, it’s nothing like that, Aunt Margie, I’m sorry. My meat supplier just let me know that he couldn’t increase my lamb order, and I don’t have enough for Tuesday’s dinner.” She looked up at them. “So my plans are shot.”

“It’s only Friday, though,” Aunt Margie told her. “You have plenty of time to come up with an alternate menu, right?”

“I suppose,” Molly said, putting her phone back in her pocket after typing out a reply. “I just want it to be extra-special, since Pavel’s bringing his mother, and I’m not sure what I can do for eleven people on short notice that’s special.”

We could do turkey? Schrodinger said, perking his ears up. With stuffing and cranberry sauce and gravy!

“We just had that a week ago for Thanksgiving!” Molly said, grinning in spite of herself. “And that’s what we’ll have for Christmas dinner. Don’t you want something else?”

No, not really, he said. I like turkey. So does Drew.

“What about goose?” Father Christopher said. “There’s the Stone farm on the outskirts of town who has wonderful geese. I just got one the other day, and Carol said they had plenty left.”

Molly’s grin turned thoughtful. “I’ve never done goose,” she admitted. “I’ve always been a bit intimidated by the thought.”

“It’s actually pretty easy,” Father Christopher said. “Not that you could make anything bad, Molly.”

Oh, she can, Schrodinger assured him. Just make her mad.

She leveled a look at him, and he hastened to add, But making her mad is a bad idea. Especially now. He looked at back at her. You aren’t mad, are you?

“No.” Molly sighed. “Just a little stressed. I’ll be fine once I have a plan.”

“Wait a minute here,” Father Christopher said, and went of the kitchen. Molly and Aunt Margie exchanged a puzzled look. When he came back in, he had a piece of paper in his hand, which he gave to Molly.

“What’s this?” she asked, looking at it.

“Something that I don’t often give out,” he told her. “This is my grandmother’s secret recipe for chestnut stuffing and roast goose. She used to make it every year for Christmas.”

“Wow,” Molly said, looking over the recipe with interest. “Are you sure you want to give this to me?”

“Absolutely,” Father Christopher said. “If that doesn’t make a special dinner, I don’t know what will.” He winked. “I put Carol’s phone number on the bottom. I’d suggest at least two geese, but she can help you with that.”

Molly pulled her phone back out and dialed the number at the bottom of the recipe.

“Hello, Stone Poultry Farm!” a cheerful voice boomed through the phone line. “Carol speaking, how can I help you?”

“Hi Carol, this is Molly Barrett, over at the bookstore,” Molly said. “Father Christopher said you might be able to help me. I’m hosting a dinner party for 12 on Tuesday.”

“Hmm, you’ll want three medium geese then,” Carol told her. “We can do that. Do you want to come pick them out?”

“No, I don’t really know anything about geese,” Molly admitted. “This will be a first for me. Can you pick me three good ones?”

“Absolutely!” Carol paused, then asked, “You’ll be doing Father Christopher’s grandmother’s chestnut stuffing, then?”

“Yes,” Molly said.

Carol sighed. “Oh, you are in for a treat! I can include a couple pounds of chestnuts if you want. We’ve got a few trees out back, and I always collect them.”

“Done!”

They chatted a bit longer, and Molly ended up not only getting an order for her orange cranberry tea bread, but for some soft butter rolls as well.

So what else are we going to do? Schrodinger asked her after she hung up.

“Well, the stuffing, obviously.” Molly pulled out a notebook and her pen, wrote up Carol’s order and stuck it to the refrigerator, then started a new page. “I was planning on doing the roasted brussel sprouts with bacon and almonds, so I can do that still. Rolls, of course.”

The soft white ones? he asked, and she nodded. Oh good, those are the best! And we can make extra, so we can have cream puff casserole for breakfast.

“And what is cream puff casserole?” Father Christopher asked him. Aunt Margie had headed out while Molly was on the phone.

Molly laughed. “It’s like baked French toast, but instead of toast, I use the soft rolls,” she said. “And there’s vanilla custard, and I top it with whipped cream and chocolate. Needless to say, I don’t make it very often.”

But Lily and Jack are sleeping over, so you’ll make it, right? Right? Schrodinger pleaded, looking over at her with big eyes. We’ll have the rolls!

“I’ll make a double batch, just so we have enough,” she promised him, and added that to her list. “Cranberry relish, I think. And green beans.”

Maple carrots, Schrodinger requested. We haven’t had those in a while.

“That will work,” Molly agreed. “Mashed potatoes?”

“If you put the potatoes in with the geese, you’ll get lovely caramelized potatoes that are amazing,” Father Christopher told her. “And it’s easy.”

“Is that what Gram did?” Molly said.

“Absolutely,” he replied. “When you’re feeding six kids, you do everything as easy as possible.”

Molly wrote down “roasted potatoes in with geese” and looked at her list. “I think that’s it,” she said, then looked at Schrodinger. “Run a quick errand for me?”

Of course! Where?

“Down to Pavel’s,” she said. “Can you let him know that we’re having goose, not lamb, so to change his wine selection accordingly?”

Absolutely! Schrodinger jumped down and ran out the door.

Molly smiled at Father Christopher, who was finishing his mug of tea. “Thank you,” she said, and meant it. “You’ve saved my bacon.”

“Sounds like it will be a lovely dinner,” he told her. “What are you serving for dessert?”

“Drew requested pie, so I think I’ll make a pecan pie,” Molly said. “I haven’t done that in a while, and it will round out the meal nicely.”

“I think you’re right,” he said. “And the charge for the recipe is small.”

Molly raised her eyebrows at him. “Let me guess,” she said. “The recipe for the cream puff casserole?”

He grinned at her.

Originally published at The words of Valerie Griswold-Ford. You can comment here or there.