An Italian Inspired Christmas Nigellissima

# O mio babbino caro

# Mi piace, e bello, bello

# Vo'andare... #

Ever since I first visited Italy over 20 years ago,

it's held a special place in my heart

and continues to pull me back.

It's full of life, love and joyfulness -

all the things I want my Christmas to be.

So this year, I'm celebrating this

by throwing a party inspired by Venice,

one of Italy's most magical cities.

This glittering city works such magic on me.

I mean, why wouldn't it?

And although I'm not planning a Venetian masked ball,

I have to say, in all honesty,

my Christmas party inspiration definitely comes from Venice.

# ...Babbo, pieta, pieta! #

CHATTER AND LAUGHTER

Merry Christmas!

LAUGHTER AND MUSIC DROWNS SPEECH

At Christmas time, I am really in my element.

I mean, not least because it gives me an excuse to throw a party.

I've never really given a themed party,

but I'd have to say that, this year,

it's an Italian-inspired Christmas I'm after.

Nothing formal, nothing stressy. All easy.

Above all, I need to be surrounded by people I like

and food I love.

To kick off, I'm going to make a gleaming, ruby red,

Venetian cocktail with a hint of spice.

OK. Avanti.

MAN: They look very Christmassy, don't they?

Very beautiful.

-The colour is amazing.

-The flavour's absolutely fantastic.

With that, I'm going to serve some bite-sized canapes

or "cicchetti" as the Venetians call them...

MAN: Do you want a song?

That's nice, that's very good.

...followed by a couple of no-stress main-course dishes.

There's a hearty pasta with Brussels sprouts, cheese and potato,

which is my Anglo take on a much-loved Italian winter warmer.

My jewelled Renaissance salad has to be on the table, simply because

its beauteous red leaves take me right back

to the market stalls of Venice every time I see them.

And then there's my show stopper,

the stuffed roast turkey,

burnished bronze and beautiful on the buffet table.

Mmm. That's beautiful.

That is beautiful, isn't it?

For the grand finale, I'm going to make

two of my favourite festive desserts -

cappuccino pavlova...

Mmm!

...and my Italian Christmas pudding cake.

It's time for indulgence, after all.

# Let's make Christmas merry, baby

# Let me be your Santa Claus

# Let's make Christmas merry, baby

# Let me be your Santa Claus. #

My atavistic refugee mentality means that I always feel at my most secure

when I'm surrounded by food.

And I have to say, at this time of year,

my hungry hoarding reaches its peak.

I feel I've got an excuse.

So...essentials for my Italian Christmas are the sweet breads,

cos that is what Italian Christmas is about.

So panettone.

That is sweet yeasted bread

enriched with candied fruits and dried fruits.

It looks a bit like a Christmas present to myself, doesn't it?

If you really can't face the idea of the fruits, as some people can't,

then I would advise you get pandoro.

Pandoro just means "golden bread", and that's what it is.

Exactly the same as panettone, without the fruit element.

Now...up a level, in every sense,

marrons glaces - they are my seasonal splurge.

Candied chestnuts of a really rich intensity.

I couldn't resist these -

gold and silver covered buttons.

Chocolate inside.

I feel it's sparkly, it's Christmas, I must have them.

A bit more savoury now

but only a bit.

This is what every Italian I know has on their Christmas table -

mostarda di Cremona. Mustard fruits.

Can you see these are candied fruits?

That's the sweet element.

The old cherries gleaming at me.

And the liquid, that viscous liquid,

is a mustard-hot syrup.

It's unbelievable with cold meats.

Oh, and I have to show off my Christmas limoncello.

Limoncello is a lemon liqueur quite sprightly and sharp

and normally a bit clearer than this.

But it's Christmas, so this is an indulgent cream version.

And I have to say now, I feel I'm primed,

I'm poised, I am ready for Christmas.

My Italian Christmas pudding cake

is THE sweet centrepiece of my party table.

So I want to get started on it early doors

so I start the day with a sense of accomplishment.

Not that I should be feeling smug, cos this is incredibly easy.

On top of those two eggs, I want 75 grams of caster sugar

and then leave it to whisk away.

I want it really aerated and slightly pale in colour.

Now, the thing about Italians at Christmas, I'm told,

there are two central puddings.

There's the panettone, which is a thing of joy,

and also something called crema de mascarpone,

which, give or take, is what I'm getting on with there.

I'm kind of conflating the two traditions

and adding something of my own,

if that's not too impertinent.

It's really no more than an assembly job.

I've got the panettone here,

which I mix with the contents of this bowl,

but there's plenty more to go in.

Mmm!

That is a wonderful amount of sunny froth there.

I'm going to do a bit of a different operation now.

Because I don't want to whisk any more,

I'm just going to add the mascarpone.

I've got 500 grams of mascarpone...

..and I have 250ml of double cream.

There are a lot of people coming to the party...

in my defence.

A bit of a stir.

But really I want to fold all this in

without losing the bubbles from the egg yolks.

Gently.

And then I'm going to be patient and let everything mix together,

till I have a wonderful, voluptuous cream.

And now some Marsala.

Mmm...like liquid amber.

Quite a bit -

125 millilitres.

Pour it in as slowly as I can bear.

Just so that nothing splits and it just blends in smoothly.

Right.

It's very odd how a dark drink can make a mixture paler, but it has.

This is...

..some of my special cream,

which I need to top the cake before serving it.

But for now, I'm going to crown this mascarpone cream

with some of my absolute favourite things,

especially at this time of year.

Some marrons glaces - that's candied chestnuts

that are dense and grainy

and sweet and really unlike anything else.

If you're lucky enough to find ones that are already broken,

buy them, because they're cheaper.

Since you're crumbling them, there's no point having the whole ones...

beautiful though they are.

These are my ultimate Christmas treat.

That's what I always want to find in my stocking.

Some pistachios - very Italian.

Got a lot here, but I want a really wonderful, nubbly filling.

Going to keep some back for the topping as well.

The tender green of those chopped pistachios is so beautiful

that I'm loathe to cover them up.

Except I've got such a good thing to cover them up with.

Teeny-weeny little chocolate chips. They're so sweet.

They look like they've escaped from Toy Town.

And I want about 125 grams.

Any chopped chocolate will do, but these delight me.

In they go.

Going to keep these out of reach, to be on the safe side.

And stir everything together.

It all looks a bit runny at this stage, just like the topping did,

but you've got to remember that it will all firm up in the fridge.

But I don't want it so stiff that it doesn't cut voluptuously.

So, this is how I go about my base.

The wonderful thing about panettone is that it's strangely pliable.

You just squodge it in.

If you tear it, you can fix it again.

And if you've got any gaps you need to fill in, you just fill them.

My spirit of choice to saturate these slices is Tuaca,

which, anyway...

I've always thought is like panettone in liqueur form.

It's a strangely unfamiliar Italian liqueur

that mixes citrus and vanilla.

But otherwise, any orange liqueur would be very Christmassy.

All I'm going to do now is put half this mixture in...

..spread to cover...

to smoothing.

And then another layer...

of panettone.

Another soaking with liqueur.

I just need to add the rest of this mixture,

top it with a final layer of liqueur-soaked panettone,

and then I can cling it and fridge it and I'm happy.

# Sotto un manto di stelle

# Roma bella mi'appare

# Solitario il mio cuor disilluso d'amor

# Come l'ombra cantare... #

Posso avere qualche cicchetti? Ma scielga lei.

-MAN: Faccio io?

-Si.

When I first came to Venice, what I absolutely loved, and still do,

is their tradition of cicchetti, which are like small bites,

people gather together, they stand around, they talk,

they relax, they eat, they drink, and...

there's something so convivial in an informal and yet focused way.

I mean, the food is serious.

Now, I think that's exactly the atmosphere you want for a party...

well, I want for a party, and...

although I can't claim my panettone stuffing squares are Venetian,

there is something about the fact that they're cut into small pieces,

that they can be handed around on plates, people eat them,

the party is obviously going to be in full swing.

# There's a very good reason

# Why the holiday season

# Is a wonderful time for a boy and girl to fall in love

# They're kissing by the mistletoe

# Tingle, tingle Tingle, tingle

# Mmm, and away we go

# Jingle, jingle... #

While I love the sweetness of panettone -

and, really, it's a key factor in this recipe -

you don't really get it unless you counter with a bit of salt.

That's why I've got 375 grams of pancetta in there.

And now four shallots -

like onions but milder and sweeter.

Italians start off so many savoury recipes

with something called a "soffritto", which is really an onion mix.

And Italians never - at least, I don't think they ever do -

cook something savoury without celery,

and I'm all for them with this.

We want two sticks in here.

Just brings a sort of grassy freshness,

so even people who don't like celery love this.

I've talked about the need for salt

to counteract the sweetness of the panettone,

but I also think sharpness is essential, hence some apples.

I mean, they're not terrifically sharp - any eating apple will do -

but I always have apples in any of my stuffing recipes.

This one is no exception.

I'm too lazy to peel the apples, but I have made a concession

and I am taking out the pips and the core.

The herb of choice in a soffritto generally is parsley,

but I want the blessed bitterness of sage.

Everything is about balance.

Although I have not been terribly balanced about my processor work.

A more patient person would have blitzed in stages.

And here goes.

I might have to do a bit of a scrape down, but it's not too hard.

And while I wait for this to blitz down,

I'll warm some garlic oil in a pan so that I can fry it.

Wow!

Not terribly attractive at this point, but do not panic.

Right, in, this pancetta porridge,

is what it looks like, goes into my pan...

..just to cook it gently.

SIZZLING

Mmm.

It is like a mush, but that is what I want,

because the wetter this mixture is,

the squidgier the panettone stuffing squares will be when we eat them.

Obviously this will be baked on party day,

but for now, I just want to make sure

that the vegetables are softened and the pancetta is cooked.

But only just cooked.

I love these kind of recipes,

which are, one, not demanding in the first place,

but, two, you can get the majority of the stuff done in advance,

because it's really important

not just to make lovely food at this time of year

but to keep as sane as possible.

I know it doesn't look that different

from when it went into the frying pan,

but that doesn't really matter...

..because it's going to look all very different later on.

In that goes to a big bowl.

Use a bigger bowl than you think.

Into this go 200 grams of vac-packed chestnuts.

I cannot have Christmas without chestnuts.

The Italians know that lemon brings out the taste

of absolutely everything else,

so it's the zest and juice of a whole lemon here.

This sort of kitchen pottering makes me feel very calm and grounded.

Also adds more liquid, which is what I want.

And now...

..look at this.

The panettone, 500 grams, glorious and golden.

I sliced it before because I wanted it to be a teeny bit stale -

all the better to soak up

the flavours and juices from the mixture here.

Don't let anyone ever talk you into cutting out the crusts.

They've got a particular flavour.

This is just the smell of Christmas.

Mmm!

Or I should say the smell of Natale.

If you think about it, it's the British tradition as well,

to have dried fruits this time of year.

It feels like a bit of mediaeval feasting.

Rich, spiced, glorious.

When I feel the food,

that's when I start getting excited about eating it.

Finishing off my panettone squares is the work of minutes.

All I do is beat a couple of eggs

and squelch them into the stuffing mixture.

I squidge this into a foil tray

and pop it into a 200-degree oven to bake,

for roughly half an hour.

Then I whip the tray out of the oven and cut the stuffing into squares,

which go onto small plates to be nibbled as canapes.

I think of these as little savoury brownies.

Next on my cicchetti list, Parmesan shortbreads.

To start with, I put 150 grams of plain flour into a mixer...

..along with 75 grams of grated Parmesan...

..100 grams of soft, unsalted butter...

..and one egg yolk.

Just four ingredients, and that's it.

Blitz all together until the golden dough begins to form a clump.

Then I just knead a little before dividing into two.

Now time to start turning these into little canapes.

I roll each ball of pastry out into a cylinder shape,

making sure the ends are blunt and flat.

Wrap each one in clingfilm,

twisting each end like a Christmas cracker,

before chilling in the fridge.

After a good 45 minutes, they'll be easy to slice into thick discs -

about the size of a pound coin will be perfect.

Then bake in a 180 oven for about 20 minutes,

by which time the discs should be turning

a pale gold around the edges.

# Che m'importa del mondo

# Quando tu sei vicino a me

# La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la La-la-la

# La-la-la

# Che m'importa del... #

Although it's certainly true that my Italian romance started in Florence,

I haven't been entirely faithful to that city

because I do have a bit of a thing about Venice.

I got to Venice a bit later on, but it stuck with me.

And I first came in winter.

I think it's so important to come in winter -

you really see Venice in a different way.

It's so beautiful and so totally seductive.

# ...Amore, amore, stringimi forte

# Amore, amore... #

I came here in winter with my sister, my late sister, Thomasina,

and rented a small flat not very far from here,

just down the road, actually.

And we had a kitchen, very important,

so we cooked everything in sight,

and although we obviously did cook a lot,

we looked like we didn't do much washing up - well, there you go.

And this is a few years later - 1992, actually -

when I got married in Venice,

and here I am, there's Rialto Bridge, and that's my sister,

and shortly afterwards,

had a most fantastic bowl of spaghetti with tomato sauce.

Sound boring, but, you know, when it's cooked perfectly, as it can be here,

it is sensational. That's why I haven't forgotten it.

And here am I, looking as if I've just set up

a fruit and veg stall at the Rialto market,

but if only that were the case.

And what a pity that I didn't have my little rented flat,

so I could cook everything in.

Anyway, next time.

# ..Sleigh bells ring

# Are you listening?

# In the lane

# Snow is glistening

# A beautiful sight

# We're happy tonight

# Walking in a winter wonderland... #

I am something of a pav-aholic,

but I have to say, my cappuccino pavlova,

or cap-pav as we call it at home,

is my first foray into a fruit-free,

but far from fruitless version.

Obviously a pavlova is, to some extent, a meringue,

so you need egg whites.

Four egg whites, but I'm getting mine out of a carton,

because at this time of the year,

it helps me to know I can make my pav at the drop of a hat.

Pinch of salt, and then...

whisk away.

WHIRRING

Once I've got soft peaks, but definite peaks,

I can start adding my sugar and my coffee element.

This is a cappuccino pavlova.

So, I'll measure that out now.

I need 250 grams of caster sugar...

..and four teaspoons of instant espresso powder.

And instant espresso powder is just that.

It's like instant coffee, but stronger, and powder, not granules.

I love it.

Mix it up.

Mmm!

It's a caffeine hit without having to drink anything.

I'm too impatient for this, so I'm going to warp speed nine now.

WHIRRING INTENSIFIES

Just waiting for soft but pronounced peaks to form here.

And now I have a wonderful snow -

very appropriate for this time of year.

But now my white snow is going to be tinted ecru.

Adding the sugar and the coffee gradually,

because I don't want to deflate the wonderful bulked-up egg whites.

When they first invented pavlova - though it is hotly contested

between the Kiwis and the Aussies about whose it is -

it must have been quite hard work,

but now, with machinery,

it's a rather languorous affair.

-WHIRRING STOPS

-Ahh! Peace.

And look at this, it's so beautiful.

It's like really expensive satin lingerie, that colour.

Don't want to waste any.

I was taught how to make pavlova

by the grande dame of Australian cookery writing,

and that is Stephanie Alexander.

So, I do what she tells me,

which means two teaspoons of cornflour...

..and I need one teaspoonful of white wine vinegar.

Now, I'm not a scientist,

but I have it under advisement that it's these two elements

that make this not a crunchy meringue,

but a pavlova that's crisp on the outside

and just exquisitely marshmallowly within.

Mmm. Fold them together.

It's also the way you cook it, because normally,

meringue is at a very, very low temperature,

but with a pav, what I do,

and what Stephanie taught me,

is I put it in the oven,

you know, relatively high, moderate oven, at 180,

and then the minute it goes in, I turn it down to 150,

and we're talking centigrade here.

And then it cooks for an hour.

I leave it in the oven to get cool...overnight,

and I can sleep the sleep of the innocent.

I'm thinking roughly of forming this,

these gorgeous splodges,

into a disc of about 23 centimetres in diameter,

but I'm not measuring and I'm not good at maths,

so that's just the plan, Stan.

I think we need to move from a curved implement to a spatch now.

Because what I want to do is smooth this,

almost as if I'm forming the crown of a boater,

or actually just a cake.

So, smooth on the top, or smooth as I can,

and straight-sided around the outside.

It looks small now, but it really does swell in the oven.

So, I have got a cappuccino pavlova.

Obviously...

not Italian.

Not Italian in identity, but totally Italian in inspiration.

So...

This goes in the oven, I go to bed.

All I need to do before people arrive is upend the pavlova base,

cover it with whipped cream,

and cover the whipped cream with a dusting of cocoa powder.

In other words, it will look like a cappuccino.

# Via, via, vieni via di qui

# Niente piu ti lega a questi luoghi

# Neanche questi fiori azzurri... #

For me, the Rialto market is

one of the most glorious sights in the world.

It's a spectacle, an installation.

And when I first came here,

I really loved getting up early in the morning

and, actually, it's not often you hear me saying that,

but I'd get up early in the morning to mooch about the market

and soak up everything and look at everything.

And obviously, everything is just beautiful to look at, but for me,

I'm just itching to get my hands on the produce and cook with it.

# ...It's wonderful, it's wonderful

# It's wonderful

# Good luck, my baby

# It's wonderful It's wonderful... #

Oh! I so love romanesco.

It's like a mixture of cauliflower and broccoli.

In fact, that's what it is. It's a... But it's a precursor, really.

And to me, it looks like the landscape from Avatar.

But what I do, especially at this time of year,

is I cook it in little florets,

because those individual florets look like miniature Christmas trees.

Radicchio - must have.

Matches my gloves.

But the one I really like is the long one, Treviso.

So beautiful.

And that's another form, tardivo.

Just available in winter, and I make a Christmas salad with that.

And these, you know, if you were thinking

of planning a winter wedding, look, what a fabulous bouquet.

Oh! Chestnuts. Look at them in their hairy jackets.

You can't have Christmas without chestnuts.

In an ideal world, I really would have this round the corner at home.

But I don't, but it's in my head and it infuses

everything I'm cooking for my Christmas party.

# ..I'd love to spend this Christmas

# Standing by the fire with you

# I'd love to spend this Christmas

# Standing by the fire with you... #

Right. It's turkey time.

But not quite as we know it.

I want 100 grams of dried cranberries.

Can't have Christmas without cranberries.

I'm not making a sauce here, though.

Instead I'm steeping them in Marsala.

100ml of Marsala.

And all I need to do is put this on the heat,

let it come to a bubble, and then turn it off and leave them.

While the cranberries are steeping, get a bit of oil in the pan,

and the cranberries are part of the stuffing

and the stuffing goes inside a boned and butterflied turkey breast joint.

You know what a huge fan I am of the big bird

and I'm always up for new ways of cooking it, especially for a party.

And this makes my life very, very simple.

On top of the shallots, I want a bit of festive spice,

which means cloves.

Not too much or we're in toothache territory.

And allspice.

Warm, comforting.

Mmm! Fabulously festive.

Going to snip in some sage.

The shallots are sweet,

the Marsala-soaked cranberries are sweet,

so I want a bit of bitterness.

Always balance.

And now...

..I've got more spicing, courtesy of one kilo...

of Italian sausage meat.

Lot of fennel in there.

Although it's definitely Italian-inspired,

it would be more accurate, I think,

to say that the inspiration here is Italian-American

rather than outright Italian, but whatever.

It is delish.

What's more, it makes life at a party very, very simple,

because carving is very easy

and you get a lot of flavour with relative ease.

I'm not looking to cook the sausages now.

After all, they're going to get a good long time -

about two hours or so - in the oven later,

but I just want the meat to lose its pink edge a little.

SIZZLING

The final turn in the pan.

I could eat it straight like this!

Right, on with the dance.

My seasonal sausage stuffing can cool just a bit

while I beat some eggs - just two.

I also need some breadcrumbs.

And, of course, the British banger does contain bread,

but Italian sausages don't.

So, breadcrumbs,

and now moving smartish to Italy, some Parmesan.

The eggs.

Ah! Sunlight in winter.

And finally, my syrup-slicked jewels.

Mmm! Beautiful.

Going to mess it all up now.

I have asbestos hands.

If you don't, use other implements or wear CSI gloves.

Just going to mix everything together,

but not overwork it because the idea

is that this stuffing will be tender and succulent inside the turkey

and not compact.

And now, time for the big bird.

That's two years of Pilates paying off.

It's a very heavy turkey breast joint.

All I need to do now, just open it out a bit.

Now, although you do need to go to a butcher

to have a whole butterflied and boned turkey breast joint,

the ones they sell at the supermarket, which are single,

actually involve more work,

because rolling up a joint and then tying it is harder work than this.

All I'm doing is squishing it in and then folding it over.

Just as I always brine a whole turkey when I roast it in my trad way,

this stuffing really does the same job.

That's to say, it keeps the meat from drying out

and it oozes flavour all through as it cooks.

The turkey meat will be succulent and tender,

and very easy to carve.

So, here goes.

Fold over, lifting one side of the wing, really -

it's like a butterfly wing - over the other.

Convey it to your tin of choice.

The weight of the joint itself should keep everything together,

but it's helped by being secured with a couple of skewers.

So, puncture this and that.

Another one.

Always love a bit of surgery.

Want to anoint it with goose fat.

And this needs about two, two-and-a-half hours in a hot oven.

And it's quite hard with a joint like this

to tell whether it's cooked through.

I find I put in a meat thermometer

and when it registers 75 degrees centigrade,

it's cooked.

When you've got a lot of people to feed, it's a winner.

OK, the hardest part of this whole operation

is actually lifting the tin, so here goes.

So, my turkey's in.

Just one last main course dish to do before everyone descends.

My pasta with Brussels sprouts, cheese and potato.

It's a crowd-pleasing carb-fest

which I love for its robust simplicity.

And it soaks up a lot of alcohol.

All I do is chop up a few baking potatoes into smallish chunks

and pop them into some boiling water,

along with a bag of whole-wheat pasta

and a good helping of seasonal sprouts.

When everything is just tender,

tip the whole lot, drained, into a roasting tin.

Then it's just a case of tossing in some chopped Gruyere cheese,

along with some ricotta...

..and a cupful of reserved pasta cooking water.

A couple of final additions.

I warm some unsalted butter and garlic oil in a pan...

..fry a few shredded sage leaves until they're a little crisp,

then dribble this over the pasta.

I cover with a generous sprinkling of Parmesan...

before baking for about 20 minutes,

or until the surface is scorched and light gold.

Any minute now, the joint will be jumping,

but I'm feeling calm and I'm feeling confident, and here's why.

For a start, the turkey is stuffed safely in the oven,

but also, I've managed a few of the finishing touches I need

so that everything will be easy.

I had a fabulous time finishing off the Italian Christmas pudding cake.

I smoothed the Marsala-spiked mascarpone mix

I'd had stashed in the fridge over the top of the cake,

and then sprinkled it with mini chocolate chips...

..and pistachios.

And then the crowning glory,

I dropped pomegranate seeds all over it.

All I need to do now is put my party dress on

and then I'm going to mix up my Gorgonzola and white bean dip.

This is the work of moments.

I'm going to tip some drained cannellini beans into the processor,

and then I'm going to add some Gorgonzola cheese.

On top of that, I shall dollop some yoghurt...

some mascarpone and some grated Parmesan...

..and then add a splosh of Marsala...

..and a green drizzle of olive oil.

Blitz to mix.

And then dollop out into bowls.

And because I want to relish

the tricolore and Christmas-coloured theme,

I've added a plate of crudites in the colours of the Italian flag.

HUBBUB

Cheers, darling. Happy Christmas, darling.

-WOMAN: Happy Christmas!

-LAUGHTER

Where's your glass?

MAN: The pepper is beautiful.

MAN: Let's have a go.

-Professional drinker.

-Yeah.

I do know you're not meant to mix drinks,

but I can't resist offering everyone my special new Christmas cocktail -

a Venetian.

You do two parts pink vermouth,

which is my favourite drink at the moment.

Look at that, beautiful.

And then one part pomegranate juice...

..followed by one part ginger ale.

Beautiful.

Of course, pouring the drinks is one thing,

and I've got to stagger around with the tray in my party shoes.

And now, spritz of ginger fizz.

That's my Venetian touch, really,

because it was the centre of the spice trade.

Still, it is vermouth, which is a form of wine,

so we're not doing the one thing my father always thought bad,

which is mixing the grain and the grape.

We're just adding a bit more grape.

OK, avanti.

# I-I-I am dreaming

# Dreaming of a white... #

It's a Venetian - pink vermouth, pomegranate and ginger.

WOMAN: Oh! INDISTINCT CHATTER

# ..Just like

# The one that I used to know... #

I need this turkey...here.

-Wow!

-OK?

You're going to hurt your back like that.

Handles.

Very good! Thank you!

OK, you've earned yourself a drink now.

That is perfect.

Now, I'm going to carve that turkey, but not yet,

because the more it sits, the easier it'll be to carve.

And I will get on with the salad.

Right, this is my Renaissance salad, and it'll become clear why.

I'm starting off with the radicchio, just a regular one.

So beautiful.

Almost absurd that a lettuce can be coloured like this.

And then I'm amplifying the radicchio element

by going for a different sort,

and this is one that... we call it Treviso.

So, this is much longer leaved, like swords.

I love these slightly whiter ribbed versions of radicchio.

I've got those, and... this being winter,

I have got some tardivo. That just means it's a late version.

These ones are really bitter, and I adore the bitter leaves.

Some olive oil.

I don't even make a dressing - I just go a-drizzling and a-pouring.

I've got salt.

Beautiful, bit of snow.

Some balsamic vinegar,

which really suits it because the leaves are quite bitter.

Which I like.

But you don't want too much, you don't want to stain the white,

but I want to deepen the red.

And now, a final touch -

pomegranate seeds.

Wouldn't be Christmas without my Renaissance salad.

I can bear this very proudly aloft.

# Frosted window panes

# Candles gleaming inside

# Painted candy canes on the tree

# Santa's on his way... #

Now, my challenge.

Carving the turkey.

It's very easy to carve, I've said that.

What I omitted to tell you is that I am a very bad carver.

Now, I'm going to take this bit off first,

because it's not so pretty but it tastes fantastic,

and I have my eye on this for a bit of a sandwich later.

Thick slices are better because

if it's too thin, nothing holds together.

There we are.

Look at this beautiful creature.

I mean, they are giant slices, but still...

Beautiful. It's like butter.

That's enough now, because I think they have eaten

an awful lot of other things

and got to save room for pudding as well.

And anyway, my sister always says, quite rightly,

that the whole point about turkey, as well,

is to make sure you have enough for leftovers.

# ...Someday soon we all will be together

# If the fates allow

# Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow

# So have yourself

# A merry little Christmas now. #

I know I've got cake on the table already, but at this time of year,

indulgence is the word.

It is the word of the season.

My pav's here - bit cracked, it will be.

Inside, it's squishy and delicious.

And now I shall attempt a magic trick.

I am turning it upside down.

Well...

Now, let's see.

If I peel this off...

And the reason I do this

is because this is all squishy underneath

and then it melds with the cream.

Slather it with cream. And I mean slather.

You can glue some of the cracked pieces back in, if you want,

but actually, I rather love it looking charmingly rustic.

That's my excuse.

But anyway, here it goes.

So far, it's just cream.

Now it's going to turn into a cappuccino.

# ..Dear to us will be near to us once more

# Someday soon we all will be together... #

I don't mean to sound smug, but I'm very happy in my work.

# Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow

# So have yourself

# A merry little Christmas now. #

Mmm.

# O mio babbino caro

# Mi piace, e bello, bello

# Vo'andare in Porta Rossa

# A comperar l'anello

# Si, si, ci voglio andare

# E se l'amassi indarno

# Andrei sul Ponte Vecchio

# Ma per buttarmi in Arno. #

BELLS CHIME

# In the morning, signorina We'll go walking

# Where the mountains help the sun come into sight

# And by the little jewellery shop we'll stop and linger... #

-Buongiorno!

-Buongiorno!

Un machiettone, per favore,

-e un pezzo di strudel Veneziana.

-Va bene.

# ..In the meantime let me tell you that I love you

# Buona sera, signorina Kiss me good night... #

While I am undoubtedly in my element feeding as many people as possible,

I have to say, for me, at this time of year,

a certain amount of solo indulgence is utterly necessary.

Speaking of indulgence, I've got certain Christmas constants.

I'd say nuts, a variety, chocolate, a lot,

and something a bit over the top,

and you roll these together and what do you get?

My chocolate salami, of course.

# I'm a slick chick

# On a solid kick

# Always looking ready Man, I'm on the mellow side

# I'm a sharp queen... #

I do know that this is supposed to be the season of peace and goodwill,

but I've always got time for a little bit of kitchen violence.

I am bashing 250 grams of amaretti, and they are for my salami,

and I haven't gone completely mad,

because the salami is not made out of pork

but out of chocolate.

Really glorious dark chocolate, 250 grams as well.

It is cooled, but I'll let it cool a little bit more,

and I can get on with creaming some butter.

I've got 100 grams of butter, soft and unsalted.

And 150 grams of sugar.

And I want these to be mixed until they're light and fluffy.

I know I've announced this as a chocolate salami,

but just for now,

think of it more as a chocolate refrigerator cake, Italian-style.

So, this is lovely and creamed.

Three eggs go in.

If it starts looking a bit curdled at this stage, don't worry.

Everything will work out beautifully.

Couple of spoonfuls of amaretto.

Mmm!

Before I add the chocolate,

I want to add a couple of spoonfuls of cocoa.

Stir this in.

This recipe is an indulgence in more than one way.

It's both deliciously decadent and also just a bit of whimsy.

And normally I don't go in for whimsy, but at this time of year

I feel a certain amount of playfulness is to be encouraged.

And now I can add the chocolate mixture.

Got to scrape out every last bit.

And this smooth mixture is now going to be roughed up...

..by 75 grams of chopped almonds.

I like the almonds which still have their skins on.

75 grams of chopped hazelnuts.

And a bit less, 50 grams, of chopped pistachios.

I've got one more ingredient to add.

But I think it will be more pleasurable to do so by hand.

The remaining ingredient is this bagful of crushed amaretti.

So, this is stage one - our pre-salami stage.

I need it to sit in the fridge just to firm up a little,

and then all will be made clear.

So, my chocolate mixture has firmed up just enough, I'm hoping,

to be able to turn it into a salami.

This doesn't require magic so much as...

a teeny bit of patience,

but a tolerance for getting a bit messy.

I've overlapped two pieces of clingfilm

and now I am going to... form this roughly

into a log, about 30 centimetres long.

Now I'm going to wrap it in the cling...

..and roll this, rather as if it were itself a rolling pin,

because this is what will make it look more like a salami later.

Want to get the tapered ends, almost as if it were a proper salami.

And now this goes in the fridge to set, and then the magic happens.

Once the chocolate salami has been in the fridge

long enough to set solid, I sit it on some baking parchment.

I then snip away at the clingfilm,

removing all except for the two pieces at either end.

Then I douse and dredge liberally with icing sugar.

And I do this for two reasons.

One, it really does start making this chocolate log

look like a salami.

And also, it stops it being too sticky as I tie it up with string.

And I string it up by first cutting a length of string

about six times as long as the salami.

I tie the string to one end of the salami

and then I start looping it around and threading it through.

I carry on for as long as my patience and time allows.

Once it's fully stringed, it really does look like

the sort of salami you would see in an Italian deli with the meats.

But, of course, it is deliciously sweet

and is the perfect treat to slice whenever a friend comes round,

or to eat by yourself

should you be lucky enough to have any time alone in the kitchen.

Mmm.

# Tu vuo' fa' l'americano

# Mmericano! Mmericano!

# Siente a me, chi t' ho fa fa?

# Tu vuoi vivere alla moda

# Ma se bevi whisky and soda

# Po' te sente 'e disturba

# Tu abballe 'o roccorol

# Tu giochi al baseball

# Ma e solde pe' Camel

# Chi te li da?

# La borsetta di mamma! #

-21.

-I am going to form this roughly

into a log, about 30 centimetres long.

CHUCKLES

Oh! OK, come and do my hair!

OK.

This is... Sorry.

Right, this is just about ready...

I've got... Sorry. Awesome.

-Action.

-Right, I think this is just about ready

to go back in the fridge.

-I can't...

-LAUGHS

OK.