There are actually 12 days of Christmas. I am not sure if you knew that. In our family, we celebrate the last night of Christmas, the 12th night. I hosted my first 12th night party this year. My dad’s mom actually started the tradition (which hails from medieval Europe). My grandfather was a doctor in a small town. He was a big fish in a small pond so to speak. And she was a well-to-do socialite. They would have dozens of people over, and she served Gaston Beef Stew and Artillery Punch. Both of these recipes come from the original Joy of Cooking. I have her copy complete with her name engraving. Her handwriting trims the borders of the pages next to the recipes she used most often.
Lacking a punch bowl and recognizing that no one drinks punch anymore, I went with wine and beer for this year’s party. Next year I’ll plan a little better, have some childcare set up for Harper, and I think I’ll include the punch. It looks dangerous and interesting.
I did, however, make the stew. Which was super easy and insanely delicious. My grandmother used to make a x8 recipe. When my mom did it, she had a pot you had to stand on a stool to see over. They were cooking for over 100 people. I only had about 12 people at my party and I did not have a pot that big. So I made a double recipe. It was without a doubt the best stew I have ever eaten. I subbed out white wine for sherry and bacon for salt pork and it was perfect.
We also had Caipirinha, courtesy of Thalita, which is a Brazilian lime cocktail made with a Brazilian liquor called Cachaça. Do not drink Cachaça by itself. It is so nasty. But mixed with lime and sugar it is amazing. Thalita’s recipe is here. And it is incredible. A wonderful summer drink. It is so refreshing. If you cannot get Cachaca, vodka will do.
I also had an enormous charcuterie and cheese platter, chips and dip, cocktail shrimp, and a huge chocolate cake from Costco.
My grandmother and grandfather used to invite people to bring their old Christmas trees to burn at the 12th night party in a bonfire on the beach. Loaded up with artillery punch, I imagine people dancing like devils around the fire.
In reality, I am certain it was much less picturesque than this. Since we live in the suburbs of Louisiana, we went with a small fire pit from Walmart in which we roasted marshmallows to make s’mores.
Regardless, Harper wore her best party dress. People ate and drank a little too much. And a good time was had by all.
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