THE COOK AND THE COMEDIAN:For comedian Maeve Higgins and her-sister-the-cook Lilly, setting Santa's tray is a favourite Christmas treat.
THERE ARE SO many varying opinions on what Santa needs on Christmas Eve that it gets confusing sometimes. He used to drink whiskey, but not anymore. He is hungry from riding his sleigh, but not hungry enough for a full dinner. I think by the time he reaches Ireland (Cobh in particular) he is sort of peckish. He could go either way. It's about 4pm in his working day. You know the feeling - will I have a cup of tea and a biscuit? Bowl of soup? Or maybe a chicken? Nobody wants him to ruin his dinner, especially a dinner being cooked by a wife such as Mrs Claus. I'd marry her myself, circumstances being different. A lot different: laws would have to change, existences would have to be proven, and I'd have to work on my beard.
Looking at pictures of her, with those sturdy legs and rosy cheeks, I just know she'd make plates full of lamb slipping off the bone and into pillowy mashed potato, with buttery greens, for her family each evening. She'd bustle around making sure everyone had enough, with her big smile and her too-tight apron. Every now and then she'd say something hilarious and we'd get to hear her famous (for being just the right side of dirty) laugh. What a joy it would be to find such a woman!
The only time she gets furious is when people arrive and have "already eaten, thank you". Santa knows this better than anyone, so that's why you must never put haddock pie or beef bourguignon out for him on Christmas Eve. Stick to these biscuits that we've always given him and everybody wins.
I have ludicriously idyllic memories of Christmas as a child. These memories feature roaring fires, drunken grand-aunts, stuffing that managed to melt in the mouth and simultaneously be chewy, chocolate coins, and lots of people arguing about Indiana Jones films, and what counts as an actual present. I still believe an old teddy wrapped in a towel is not an actual present . . . even from a three-year-old child. Maybe if he had all his limbs I would concede, but that doesn't really matter - it never did matter, actually.
The main focus of Christmas for me was never the presents or the films - it was the letters to, and tray for, Santa. The ritual went like this, we'd all gather by the fire - except in 1988 after a particularly terrifying and gruesome advertising campaign for fire safety, featuring tiny girls in nightdresses whooshing up in flames. That year we hung back a bit. One by one we'd hand our letters to our solemn father and he'd send them up the chimney. He never dropped any into the fire. He was so careful not to that he sometimes leaned in too far and would jump back swearing under his breath, which we loved. Afterwards, we ran outside to see the missives disappear into the sky, and finally we'd come back inside to set up the crucial tray.
Carrots were carefully peeled, whiskey poured into the best tumbler by confident little hands, a small jug of water arranged just so, and then the real star of the tray: the stained glass window biscuits. Only the most evenly featured, prettily decorated and golden coloured ones were considered. Out of those exceptional few, we'd choose the lucky three (always three - what sort of freak has just one or two biscuits with his whiskey?).
This decision was ultimately based on the personality of the biscuits and how they worked together as a team. This holy trinity - these three graces - would then be pawed by each child until the formation was perfect enough to appeal to the big fellow. Off to bed then, feeling sick from a heady mix of biscuits and the purest excitement in the world.
Stained glass window biscuits Makes about 24
75g plain white flour
75g wholewheat flour
125g butter
40g icing sugar
About 24 boiled sweets of different colours
Set the oven to 180 degrees/gas four and line two large baking sheets with non-stick paper or better still, a silicone mat.
Beat the flours, butter and sugar together to make a dough, and roll out to a depth of about two and a half centimetres.
Cut out a shape with a medium-sized cutter and use a smaller cutter for the inside shape. Place the cookie on the tray and place a boiled sweet inside each small cut-out shape. It sounds complicated, but it's actually easy. Punch a hole in half of the biscuits by sticking a straw through the top of each one.
Bake for 10 minutes, or until the sweets have melted and the biscuits are golden brown. Leave to cool and set on the trays. You can ice them or leave them plain.
The best three should be selected for the Santa tray, the others should be divided thus - half for the tray-setter-uppers to eat, the other half threaded through the hole with ribbon and hung on the Christmas tree, thereby increasing its prettiness by 33 per cent.