If the Fates Allow

It was already 5:20 this evening when the frozen beef bones clattered onto the sheet pan. A little oil, some salt and pepper and a few carrots later they were in the rapidly heating oven to brown for stock which was destined to be gravy for our Christmas feast. Across the kitchen asparagus snapped, arugula tossed into a bowl and the rib roast seasoned so that we might eat sometime before midnight.

A few hours later Christmas crackers were snapping as dinner was served and although it might have been a tad late, none of the crowned diners seemed to mind a bit.