Our Christmas Cookbook - 23. Charles Dickens' Turkey

Charles Dickens’ Turkey

By Cole Matthews

“What is forcemeat?”

“I don’t know. What are you referring to?”

“A recipe. This recipe calls for stuffing the bird with a mixture of forcemeat, stale bread, dried fruits, and herbs.”

“Could it be sausage of some kind?” her boyfriend asked, looking up from his tablet.

Pam sighed and continued flipping the pages in the old book. It was a vintage 1903 one she’d found in a local antique store, its pages brittle and yellowed, but full of things that made her giggle and occasionally laugh.

“I can’t find another reference to this ‘forcemeat’ thing.”

Dean’s face pinched into a determined look as he quickly searched for the word on the Internet. “It says here that forcemeat is a combination of ground or pulverized meats, spices, and used in sausage-making.” He looked up from his tablet and smiled at his girlfriend.

“Oh!” she said, a pleasing grin rising on her lips. “That’s easy enough then.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, closing the iPad.

“I’m finding the perfect recipe for our Christmas bird.”

“You don’t have to impress my parents. They already like you,” Dean said, getting up and stepping around her chair. He leaned over and hugged her from behind, gently kissing her temple and smelling deeply of the faint coconut scent to her hair.

“I’m not impressing anyone,” she scoffed. “I simply want to use my old cookbook and make an old-fashioned Christmas meal.”

“Okay,” Dean said, releasing her and standing upright “What’re you thinking?”

Pam turned and pointed into her book, “I want to recreate the dinner from Dickens’ A Christmas Carol for our holiday meal.”

Dean’s face drooped, and his eyes widened. Quickly, he recovered. “There’s no reason to go to that much trouble,” he said. “Besides, didn’t they have roast goose or something?”

Pam nodded enthusiastically. “They did, at least Scrooge’s nephew had goose at his feast. But when Scrooge woke up from the visits from the ghosts of Christmas, it was a turkey hanging in the window that he sent to the Cratchetts. They had a plum pudding, a turkey, and all the trimmings when Scrooge dropped off the presents.”

“So that’s the meal you’re making?” Dean asked doubtfully. “Really, you shouldn’t—”

“I’m going to try. I know you don’t think I can do it,” Pam said quickly.

“Of course, you can,” Dean responded quickly. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Good, then I’m making Charles Dickens’ turkey for Christmas.”

Dean sighed and then left the room shaking his head.

***

“I was talking with my mom, and she said my dad loves prime rib. Maybe you should make that instead,” Dean said as they strolled through the grocery store. The cart was piled high with bags of produce, packages of ground pork, cans of broth, and at the bottom was an enormous turkey. The bird was so large its breast was still visible amidst the many items.

“Do you know how much a rib roast costs?” Pam asked him, looking aghast.

“I’ll pay for it,” Dean said quickly, giving her a cheeky grin.

“I’ve already planned this whole meal out. I’m making a traditional plum pudding, and we have paper crowns and everything.” Pam pouted a bit, her lower lip sticking out. “I don’t want to change a thing.”

“Okay,” Dean answered softly. “There’s one thing about my parents you should know.”

“I’ve met them, silly,” Pam said, pushing the cart toward a pile of bags of sage-flavored croutons.

Dean followed and continued, “My parents liked my ex, like, a lot.”

Pam picked up the crinkly cellophane bag and inspected the bread cubes within. “I know. Your mother mentioned Ginger a few times the last time we got together.”

“Yes, there is my ex-girlfriend,” Dean admitted. “But, I did have a boyfriend once upon a time.”

Pam waved a hand at him dismissively. “I know you’re bi. That doesn’t bother me in the least.”

“Okay. Good.” Dean said, reaching out to her.

At his touch, she turned and looked into his eyes. Leaning forward, she kissed him lightly on the lips. “If I wasn’t nervous about an ex-girlfriend, an ex-boyfriend wouldn’t bother me either.”

“This is all so new,” Dean said smiling to her. “We don’t really know each other well yet.”

“I like what I do know,” Pam said, turning away. She then paused, and turned back. “We have so much fun together, don’t you think?”

Dean agreed as Pam tossed the croutons into the cart.

***

“You’ve really put on quite the spread dear,” Violet, Dean’s mother said, brushing her fingertips along the white tablecloth and gesturing over the folded napkins, and gleaming silver candlesticks. A huge red and green centerpiece with red carnations, white mums, lots of English Ivy, and more candles completed the classic English tableau. In front of each place setting was a neatly-folded paper packet. “What are these?” she asked Pam who was bringing in the glass bowl of cranberry sauce and a basket heaped with rolls.

“Those are Christmas crowns to wear. Our theme is a Victorian Christmas,” Pam said proudly.

“Really?” Violet said, looking around the table. “Where are the crackers then?”

“The what?” Pam asked. Just then a buzzer sounded, and the younger woman jumped. “That’s my bird. I’ll be back in a flash.

Dean came into the dining room with his father in tow. “I’m thinking of trading in the Wrangler for something more economical and practical. It’s cold in the winter, though I love riding without a top in the summer.”

“Probably a wise move,” his father said. “Look at this.” Dean’s father looked around the table in surprise. He appeared quite thrilled.

“Yes, it seems Pam has gone all out for us,” Violet said. “She shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”

She turned to her son, “So things seem to be going well between you two.”

“It’s been great,” Dean said. “Let’s sit in the living room and I’ll get you a glass of wine.”

“A beer for me,” Dean’s father, Tom, called after him. “Come on, Vi.”

Dean was handing his parents beverages from a tray as Pam returned from the kitchen. “The bird is roasting nicely,” she said, taking a ruby red glass of wine from her boyfriend. “We should be eating in about an hour.”

“Roasting?” Vi said, her eyebrow arching and reinforcing the question. “What are you roasting?”

“The turkey,” Pam said, taking a sip.

“Oh,” Dean’s mother said, cocking her head.

“What about those Vikings?” Dean asked, and started discussing the latest couple of heartbreaking football losses with his father. Tom had some serious opinions about their defense, which he shared with his son.

Pam watched Vi carefully wondering what she’d meant with that question about the turkey.

***

Dean looked on nervously as his girlfriend set down the flaming mound of brown cake, the blue flames dancing along the top like excited children upon hearing Santa was here.

Tom asked, “What is this now?”

Pam stood up and placed her hands on her hips. She blew back a tress of her hair out of her face as she answered, “Plum pudding, of course.”

“That’s not pudding,” Dean’s father said scowling as he peered at the toasting dessert. “That’s cake of some kind.”

Dean’s mom shushed him with a hand on his forearm.

“Never mind him,” Vi said quickly. “It looks delicious.”

“Whatever it is,” Tom said, pulling away from his wife.”

“Dad?” Dean warned.

“Fine,” Tom responded, and held up his plate. “I’ll give it a try.”

Pam hesitated before she reached in to cut the dessert. The flames were quickly dying out once the brandy was burned off, and she sliced a piece of the spicy brown cake and slid it onto Dean’s father’s plate. “Would you like some whipped cream?”

“Huh?” Tom asked looking confused. “I like hard sauce with –”

His wife quickly jumped in and answered her question. “He’d love some, wouldn’t you dear?”

“Sure,” Tom said nervously. “Do you ever hear from Christian?” he then asked as Pam plopped a dollop of cream on his cake.

“I don’t really keep in contact with him,” Dean said. “We ended on a sour note. You know that.”

“This is quite good,” Dean’s father answered after his first bite. “Not plum pudding, mind you, but quite tasty.”

“I’ll have a slice,” Vi said quickly. “It smells divine.”

“Thanks,” Pam said, looking at Dean’s father. He was munching away on the cake with a smile on his face. As she considered the afternoon, it was clear they had enjoyed the food. At first, they were reluctant to put on the paper crowns and Dean’s mom was a little confused by her side dishes, but once they’d dug in, the conversation had been complimentary and pleasant.

Pam finished dishing out the plum pudding for herself and she noticed her guests’ wine glasses were empty.

“Would anyone like another glass of Bordeaux?” she asked, looking from face to face.

“Sure,” Dean said as he started to get up. “I’ll get it.”

“No.” Pam put her hand on his shoulder. “Let me.”

“Okay, thanks,” Dean said.

Pam left the room, but instead of making her way into the kitchen, she stood just inside the doorway and listened. Something was amiss, and they weren’t telling her what. She didn’t have to wait long. Horror began to creep into her as they talked.

“. . .don’t know what she was thinking…”

“Shhh,” Dean whispered loudly. “She’ll be back any minute.”

“Christian’s was so much better, really authentic. They didn’t roast the turkey in Victorian England, they boiled it. And really, paper crowns? That’s a thoroughly 20^th century invention.”

“She’s trying, now just control yourself.”

“Christian was really a much better conversationalist too. She was prattling on about a Netflix movie like it was an Academy Award winner or something.”

Pam was annoyed Dean’s mother, Vi was so negative. Then Dean’s father added, “I think this is just a phase you’re in. Why would you start dating a woman when Christian made you so happy? I’ve never seen you so calm and content as you were with him.”

“She seems like a perfectly lovely young lady, but your father is right. Dean, you’re gay. Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not gay, I’m bi, and I really love her. Now, please drop it before she comes back.”

Pam brushed away a tear struggling to break free. She felt her heart breaking into two pieces, one confused and the other scared.

If Dean’s parents thought he was making a mistake, was he?

They thought he was gay.

What the hell was she doing?

Without stopping, she walked back through the kitchen and up the stairway to her bedroom.

Her worst nightmare was now coming to life. It made her feel so small and horrible.

***

Pam heard a quiet rapping at her bedroom door. At first, she tried to ignore it. Then she wiped her face and squared her shoulders to respond in the negative. Finally she slumped in resignation.

“I’m not feeling it,” she called out, her voice sounding weak and watery. “Leave me alone.”

“Can we please talk?” Dean voice asked, muffled by the wooden door.

“No,” she said softly, then louder, “Not right now.”

“Please, I sent them home,” he answered her. “I think you may have gotten the wrong impression.”

What could Dean say to her that would fix this? His parents didn’t like her. They thought Dean had made a serious mistake dating her. And, to top it off, Dean was gay, and yet seeing her and making promises.

These thoughts flittered through her mind, but something about him stopped her musings. He was there now, which meant something, right?

“Fine,” she said, and then louder. “Come in.” Was this a mistake?

Dean opened the door slowly and sheepishly entered the room. “My parents feel terrible.”

“Why? Because I’m not as good as your ex-boyfriend,” Pam said bitterly. “Who was this guy?”

Dean sighed and came closer. “I never lied to you, not once.”

“What was this Christian to you?” Then she continued, “And are you really gay? Tell me the truth.” She could seem to catch her breath as the gasps became more rapid.

Dean sat on the bed next to her, careful not to touch her and upset her more. “I’ve never lied to you at all. Never. I’m bisexual. I’ve always been bi.”

Pam looked at him, glaring, and then saw his face was wan and pale. Dean looked so vulnerable, really wrecked and it made her soften a bit.

“What was all that about boiled turkey and stuff? I did my best.” Pam crossed her arms and huffed out loudly.

Dean sighed once again and opened his mouth. “Let me tell you where this comes from. I should probably tell you the whole story, and then maybe it will make more sense.”

“Who was Christian to you? I feel lost and, I’m a little scared,” she asked. He rubbed his face and then began talking.

“Christian was a guy I met in college. We were both on the same floor in the same dorm. At that point, I’d only dated girls, but I knew I was attracted to guys as well. Christian was different. I fell for him hard.”

“So you are gay,” Pam waved her hands in surrender.

“No, I’m bi. I’ve always been attracted to both sexes, but I fell in love with a guy, and it was good.”

“Is that why your parents were talking about how wonderful he was?”

Dean continued, “As a graduation present, my parents took us to England to see our relatives. My grandparents immigrated to the US after World War II, and so there are cousins and great uncles and aunts and stuff who still live there. My parents spent three weeks around Christian and me and they adored him, almost more than I did.”

Dean rubbed his face and looking off into the distance added, “One Christmas he even made a ‘traditional Victorian dinner’ complete with a trussed and boiled bird my mom still raves about.” He looked lost in the memory.

Pam tightened her crossed arms across her chest. “Are you still in love with him?”

“No,” Dean said, shaking his head. “No. I’m not still in love with him at all. Not even a little bit.” Dean’s voice was adamant, sharp with sureness. “It didn’t end well.” His glinting brown eyes met hers and didn’t waver.

“What happened?” Pam asked, squaring her body to face Dean. She felt her arms relax a little.

“Well, after college, we moved in together, and it was great for a while. Then I told him I wanted a family. I wanted to adopt kids. At first, he seemed to like the idea, then things changed.”

“What things changed?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Christian got a job that required a great deal of travel. He and I started drifting apart, and when I’d discuss children, he started avoiding the subject.”

Pam considered what her boyfriend said, and slyly glanced over. His skin was waxen and eyes red. This was no act. She then asked the next obvious question.

“Is that what ended things?”

“Maybe in the end it did. I don’t know.” Dean added, “He met someone else.”

“Oh,” Pam said. “He left you.”

“No, it was just a fling,” Dean muttered. “But I decided it was over. I ended up leaving.”

“Oh,” Pam said, touching his arm. “Is that when you met Ginger?”

“Shortly after,” Dean said. “I met Ginger, and we went out a few times, and that’s when it got ugly with Christian.”

“Why?”

Dean shrugged. “Christian wasn’t happy I was dating women. He told me I was lying to myself. He called me some pretty awful names. We haven’t spoken since.”

“But your parents?” Pam started to ask.

“Don’t know how bad it was,” Dean continued. “Then I met you and started falling for you almost right away.”

Pam didn’t respond immediately. She let the quiet between them build. She asked, “But how can I compete with a man? If you like men, I can’t give you that, that, you know.”

“I love you,” Dean said, then he said grabbing her shoulder. “You have everything I want. Period.”

“But, what if you find a guy you like and—”

“Let’s put it this way, okay? Since I met you, I’m straight. I’m straight for you. Maybe I was gay for Christian, but for you, I’m strictly hetero.”

“You’re not, though,” Pam said, now smiling. “You’re still going to find other men attractive.”

“And other women too,” Dean admitted, grinning back at her. “I’m not going to cheat on you, and I’m not missing out on anything.” Touching her chest at her heart, he tapped lightly. “This is what I want.”

“What about your parents?”

“They’ll get to know you and love you also,” he said. “In lots of ways, you’re like a female Christian.”

Pam looked puzzled. She also felt a bit miffed until Dean said,“Neither of you could make a decent plum pudding my dad would eat.”

Pam pushed Dean back away from her. “That’s mean.”

“Dad likes his traditional plum pudding steamed and not baked.”

Pam breathed in deeply. “So you want to have kids?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered. “Do you?”

“I think you’d make a great dad,” she said leaning into a kiss.

“And you’d make a wonderful mom,” Dean said, pulling her atop him.

In the end, they decided to try starting a family.

It worked.

Pam’s Plum Pudding Recipe

1 stick of butter

¾ cup brown sugar

3 eggs

¾ cup bread crumbs, plain

½ cup flour

1 tsp cinnamon

½ tsp baking soda

½ tsp nutmeg

¼ tsp salt

¼ tsp cloves

2 -15 oz. cans of prunes, pitted and chopped

1-3/4 cups chopped dates

1 cup raisins

1 cup shredded carrots

½ cup craisins (dried cranberries or dried cherries work as well)

Cream butter and sugar adding eggs one at a time.

Mix dry ingredients together and add to wet mixture along with the fruits and carrots.

Bake in a 350 degree Fahrenheit oven for around 40 minutes until done.

Serve with whipped cream to future in-laws.