After the first installment, I walked for fifty minutes to Box Hill north to drop Mr DaVa off at his parents. Struggling to even fit a beer in over there, he had to do the same thing all over again, but with porchetta (wog Christmas) immediately after. So, so sad.
Then, I headed off and got ready for the orphan's do at my place. I ended up cooking a lamb roast stuffed with spinach, pricked it all over and put in garlic cloves and sage, and more roast vegetables.
We wanted something we could walk away from and not think about as we gathered booze. My trusty housemate managed to score another couple of cases of free beer, and we bought a slab and a bottle of Tanqueray.
There were only 10 of us there and more people bought booze. I obviously couldn't eat any more, but we all got pretty plastered. The night is good to end with your real family.
The day after, my friends 1928 and his lady had drinks and nibbles at their place. It was a cold meats spread, with cheese and dip. However, with the cold-meat love that 1928 and I share, he brought out the salami he made after taking a Fleischmeister course and it was fantastic. Very garlicky, not too fatty, but surprisingly dry on the tongue...not in a bad way.
This was a small do with 6 people and yes, we all got pretty plastered.
I saw this little guy on the way over there, and it seems fitting, if not ominous of where my body is now.