The twilight zone between Christmas and New Year's Eve

Say wine, snacks or haute cuisine and the gourmands at online food magazine FavorFlav know where to drink, how to eat it and what to cook. This time our cheffies serve you: what you eat and drink between Christmas and New Year's Eve.

It is Sunday. It is Sunday. It is Sunday. A very normal, not to be confused with a special Sunday. Breakfast can simply consist of a yogurt with some blueberries and granola, there doesn't need to be a softly scrambled egg with wild salmon. It is Sunday. It is Sunday. I repeat it like a sort of mantra, because otherwise I have no clue where I am and what I should do.

Saturated fat
On Christmas Eve, I had stew at my father-in-law's, on Christmas Day I enjoyed seven courses and an impressive wine arrangement, on Boxing Day breakfast was blown away with the family where I surprised myself by serving twice. The rest of my Boxing Day was spent at my sister-in-law's who has her cooking passion from the Surinamese side of her family, so we ate lamb and salmon, Brussels sprouts and beans and colored carrots from the oven and stewed pears, fried potatoes and mash, a cheese platter afterwards and Eton Mess. I still have no idea why she asked me to bring soup beforehand and bread with spreads, but the theme of our feast was: saturated fat. By the way, the evening before Christmas Eve also felt like a sort of Christmas Eve, so it was cheese fondue accompanied by wine. And before that was the weekend and that weekend was already kicked off on Thursday with a small company party where the theme turned out to be alcohol and pizza, so yes, you know what that means. It is Sunday. It is Sunday. It is Sunday.

Who is this woman?
I thought no one really knew how I felt, until I saw Rocher's tweet. He calls this period the twilight zone between Christmas and New Year's Eve. No idea what time it is, whether I have to work, whether the dog has been taken out or whether I even gave the poor creature a bowl of food this morning, so just to be safe I give a little more. At eleven o'clock I crave a good glass of wine. At twelve o'clock I quite fancy a drizzled and dripped tenderloin. Somewhere in the distance, I also feel the need for vegetables to balance out all the saturated fat. Sometimes I drink beer because I'm tired of Chardonnay. Who is this woman? I no longer know who I am.

Never anything in moderation
By the way, did you know that in this twilight zone you only gain 0.2 to 0.9 kilos? I suspect misleading averages, where I am generously endowed by eating double desserts and my neighbor has secretly started jogging in between. It is Sunday. It is Sunday.

Tomorrow I will treat as a normal Monday, with the difference that in the afternoon I will join friends where our common ground is that we never do anything in moderation (I can recommend everyone to have this kind of friends), on Tuesday I will stop by grandpa and grandma, where I see many Zeeland boluses for myself and then I will just eat and drink for a whole evening long, because it is not a Sunday at all, it is an all-consuming and consuming holiday that lasts two weeks, this year. Champagne, anyone?