Those wonderful boys in the Swiss Guard have done it again. After The Vatican Cookbook of 2016, which must by now surely be in every Catholic kitchen in the English-speaking world, David Geisser has teamed up with Thomas Kelly to produce a corresponding Christmas volume, just in time for the festive season. I’ve often wondered about the home lives of those colourful young soldiers as I’ve meandered through St Peter’s Square – or rather, I suppose, whether they still get the food that their mothers and grandmothers raised them on back home. Some of them are quite the chefs themselves, if this volume is anything to go by, and it’s hugely comforting.
It opens with the loveliest story about dear and now sainted John Paul II and a new recruit many years ago. Homesick and tearful on his first Christmas Eve in Rome, he was on guard outside the papal apartments when the pope left after supper to go to St Peter’s Basilica. He greeted the new recruit but the noticed his bleary and bloodshot eyes. “Of course,” he exclaimed, “this must be your first time away from home for Christmas!” Then he embraced him, told him that he was glad of his company and protection, and – most wonderfully of all – that he would make a special intention for him at Midnight Mass. What a story, with such a happy ending.
It steeled me to ensure that my far-flung family has a total bunfight this Christmas, for we shall all be together for the first time since 2019. Christmas 2020 was too horrid for words: no church, no visitors, no fun at all. I shed a few tears myself as the two of us sat down to a small meal at our empty dining table, with our children and first grandchild scattered all over the place and forbidden from coming to stay by a so-called Conservative government. It all seemed so unfair, but I did my best to count my blessings. There are plenty of those, I suppose, and I am looking forward to a houseful of laughter this year with two more grandchildren – twins! – to add to the mix.
I am determined to push the boat out, and this new book is just the thing I need. I am usually wary of haute cuisine (it almost doesn’t seem worth the effort now that restaurants are open again) but plenty of these recipes seem doable and wouldn’t look out of place in a top London establishment: venison in fig sauce; caponata gamberoni; veal tartare with truffle oil. The instructions are simple enough to follow and the print is large enough to read off my trusty kitchen bookrest even when I can’t find my reading glasses at a crucial moment. Our boys all served at the altar once upon a time and insist on calling it my missal stand – which I secretly quite like, having never gone near one myself.
The simpler dishes are wonderful, too: easier to make, but no less tasty. Tangy and fresh lemon and ricotta ravioli, an enticing quick soufflé incorporating Poire William brandy, and a salmon club sandwich that even my husband could make without wrecking the kitchen or setting fire to the dog. Not forgetting that they’re the Swiss Guard, there are plenty of fondues as well – just right on a cold dark night and a super way of getting rid of leftover cheese. And the puddings! They’re to die for: cheesecakes, parfaits, and clafoutis – which have always scared me a little, but here seem quite straightforward and utterly un-daunting.
I was briefly worried that leafing through the pages I would be condemned as a heretic on the pasta front. My secret shame – and, please, this must go no further – is that I don’t make my own. I used to, years ago when the world was young, but the stuff you can buy in the shops is just as good and far less time-consuming. My heart leapt for joy, then, when I realised that the book recommends doing the same. What a godsend! It’s a romantic idea, all that rolling and flouring and rolling again, but I guess there’s not much spare time left when one’s busy protecting the Pope from those who might wish him harm.
The “Christmas Cookies” section is a delight. I’ve already tried out the lemon sugar cookies, the apricot jewels, and the cinnamon stars – they all lasted about five minutes so I will have to double or treble the batches it they are to survive the descent of the hordes. The beauty of them is that they don’t take too long – and they’d be huge fun to make with any children you may have hanging about who are old enough to be pressed into service. Much more fun than licking the adhesive ends of paper chains. In fact, this book would be the perfect way to get children to think about Christmas from new angles.
Not all the pages are about food, you see. There are interesting pieces with really beautiful illustrations about the history of the Swiss Guard and the Vatican, and about the gruelling watch that the soldiers keep on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day – together with a charming description of the celebrations of those who are not on overnight duty, keeping a late festa with their families in the guards’ dining hall, exchanging gifts, singing carols, telling stories to the bambini, raising a toast to the holiday, and finally praying together. What a tale those little ones will have to tell their own children, one day.
There are also stories about Christmas in some other countries: Egypt, the Philippines, Switzerland and Argentina – Pope Francis must surely approve of the last. I think we must make a point of finding a moment to have the Fondue Chinoise: no cheese, but meats poached in bouillon with the benefit of the most delicious day-after stock. Perhaps we’ll use one of the prayers that appear at the book’s end to remember the Church in China, all those Christians being persecuted there and especially brave Cardinal Zen. He has been something of a hero in our household since we used to visit our daughter when she worked in Hong Kong nearly twenty years ago.
The recipes come from all around the world, which is only right and proper given that the Church is spread all over it like butter. I was a bit surprised, though, to discover that on Christmas Eve the recommended meals include meat: ham fettucine and beef lasagne appear alongside beautiful vegetarian purple borscht. Agnieszka, my wonderful Polish helper, was appalled – fish for her on Christmas Eve, and nothing else! I think we will probably stick to our usual fish pie and chilled Chablis before heading out, but perhaps when in Rome, and so on. Maybe it is a practical thing and therefore permitted: meaty dishes to sustain those gallant young men while they stand still and sturdy in the cold and the wind, patiently waiting for the Holy Father to say the first mass of Christmas, and usher in the feast.
Alicia Godfrey spent 30 years following her husband around the world while simultaneously trying to raise a normal family; she now lives in Shropshire.
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