Butter before guns

Little from the outside world to complain about just now - that is, I'm sure there's quite a lot, but I am studiously not paying attention - so instead, a note about food. I'd always thought T6I should devote much more time to cookery, anyway.

So, the menu tomorrow night will be simple: a Neuchatel fondue, surrounded by assorted tapas (an odd mix, you might think, but then consider the Hispano-Suiza as mechanical precedent).

Yesterday was more complex, a venison goulash with chanterelles, served over spätzle. Cook chopped shallots and bacon in a pot until the shallots are translucent. Throw in two pounds of cubed venison, turn up the heat and brown the meat all round. Douse with a splash of kirschwasser and 100 ml strong dry red wine; liberally dust with mild paprika; add salt, pepper, thyme, a few juniper berries, a sprig of rosemary and a couple of laurel leaves and 250 ml venison fond. Cover and let simmer over low heat for an hour. When about 40 minutes have gone by, chop another shallot, put it in a pan with much more butter than you'd think necessary, then add 150 g or so of chanterelles (more will never hurt). Stir from time to time. After 15 minutes, stir some chopped parsley among the chanterelles. Then take the meat out of the pot. Take out the rosemary and laurel leaves, too, and throw them away. Turn the heat up high. Add a small pot of creme fraiche, stir till it dissolves. Then pour in 100 ml of madeira. If you need to thicken the sauce, you may dissolve a bit of starch in the madeira. Layer the meat atop the spätzle (I shall have to tell you how to make those one day). Ladle on the sauce and put the chanterelles over the whole. You'll want to serve this with something stroppy, a pugnacious zinfandel perhaps.

Dinner on New Year's day will be a reprise of Christmas, my parents visiting but unable to have come for Christmas day itself. Hence roast goose stuffed with apples, chestnuts, brandied sultanas and mugwort; potato dumplings; red cabbage with apples and cloves; pecan pie; flaming Christmas pud; and to round it all off Stilton with a bottle of 1963 Warre's; a rare and special treat, that last.

Plenty of time after that for Dr Atkins, and don't I fear I may need it.