Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Advent Preparations at the Supine Farm

Once again this year, I’ve had requests for my Vodka Christmas Cake recipe so here goes.  Please keep in your files as I am beginning to get tired of typing this up every year! (Made mine this morning!!!!)

1 cup sugar,
1 tsp. baking powder,
1 cup water,
1 tsp. salt,
1 cup brown sugar,
Lemon juice,
4 large eggs,
2 bags of Nuts,
1 bottle Vodka,
2 cups dried fruit.

Sample a cup of Vodka to check quality.  Take a large bowl, check the Vodka again to be sure it is of the highest quality then Repeat.  Turn on the electric mixer.

Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.  Add 1 teaspoon of sugar.  Beat again.  At this point, it is best to make sure the Vodka is still OK.  Try another cup just in case. 

Turn off the mixerer thingy.  Break 2 eegs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.  Pick the fruit up off the floor, wash it and put it in the bowl a piece at a time trying to count it.  Mix on the turner.  

If the fried druit getas stuck in the beaterers, just pry it loose with a drewscriver sample the Vodka to test for tonsisticity.  Next, sift 2 cups of salt, or something.  Check the Vodka.  

Now shit shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.  Add one table.  Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink.  Whatever you can find.  

Greash the oven.  Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.  Don't forget to beat off the turner.  Finally, throw the bowl through the window.  Finish the Vodka and wipe the counter with the cat.

After an afternoon of whipping up one of my famous Christmas Vodka Cakes, nothing soothes Father more than listening to the ancient chants of the Church (well, OK, Reynaldo the House Boy's Holiday Massage - we call it the "Over The River and Through the Woods" Massage comes pretty darn close).

Here's one of my favorites in a slavishly accurate and musically adventurous rendition.The original Latin text, Nativitas Semper Memoranda, is attributed to the disgraced 14th Cistercian mystic, Hermanus Erectus, who conceived it as a duet to be sung with Mother Mammalia, the sainted Abbess of a neighboring womens' monastery. Note the subtle reference to the redemption wrought for us by That Divine Lover of Mankind on the Altar of the Cross, "a fast talking lover with some slow-burning wood." Our Eastern brethren who groove attentively to this tune will hear echoes of the late saintly Protopresbyter Alexander Schmemmann who often spoke of Advent-Christmas as "The Winter Pascha": "Spring time feelings in the middle of December." And devotees of the Staretz Klemydius, Bulgaria's Apostle to Youth, will be grateful to hear at least part of one of that Elder's constant counsels to the college men who flocked to his booth at that religiously-themed seaside bar, Noah's Ark: "Strangers when we met, lovers as we leave, means a mystical rash after New Year's in a place that screams out De Profundis!

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