cookup classic
A Christmas diary
Originally published in 2004, this old favourite from writer Anu Lakhan tackles a common seasonal dilemma: Christmas presents. Sometimes the solution lies close at hand, in your own kitchen
T
he dread I feel at Christmas is entirely owing to the gift situation. A fairly traditional Hindu upbringing has failed to instill a healthy degree of asceticism among my relatives: we are devoted to presents. This poses problems for someone with the shopping aptitude of a watermelon. It has taken me the better part of three decades to figure out that my salvation lies where it inevitably does: in food.
The
12
th
The 12thDay DayBefore BeforeChristmas Christmas Halfway through December, and though I have not bought a single present, it appears that I still have an unusually large number of siblings, small relatives, and assorted persons in my life. How did I let this happen? Again. Because I am a coward. I fear the rabid shoppers coveting their neighbours’ goods and the slow descent into madness from over-exposure to shrill children’s choirs and cuatros. I stare at the series of gift-lists like I’m reading a tarot deck.
The
11
th
The 11thDay DayBefore BeforeChristmas Christmas A dozen lamb pastelles later (“consumption pattern” on my retail expeditions measures what is eaten, not bought) and still no presents. No, no one in my family wants a poinsettia-patterned tea-cosy or a manger scene made from egg cartons, but if I eat enough of these very sugary cookies I may fall into a coma and not wake up until Easter. Online shopping has proved unsuccessful because it deprives me of the false hope of impulse purchasing.
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