Get Dressed Ye Merry Gentleman

Christmas Day is upon us! It felt very odd to wake up this morning to a typical Thai Thursday. This is the only Christmas I have spent outside of England and the day was a mix of Thai and traditional influences. We started with a selection of breakfast treats - mostly sticky rice topped with coconut, mango, sweet omelette, or palm sugar, and some sesame sweet potato balls.

Possibly the world's largest moka pot

Continuing the Thai theme, we took the opportunity to have a mid-morning massage. This was a luxurious way to kick-off the celebrations.

Suitably flexed and tenderised, the feasting began in earnest. Christmas lunch is a special time outside of time (a bit like waiting for an international flight), when it is perfectly acceptable to have a sherry or open the red wine at 11:45. Today's preparations afforded me the perfect excuse to do my best Keith Floyd impression.

The resemblance is uncanny

Asian kitchens are usually simply equipped with a couple of hobs (often portable) and a rice cooker. Ovens are rarely seen as they use a great deal more energy to cook the food. This has informed the cuisine, in which much is steamed, boiled, or fried, but Christmas simply wouldn't be the same without roast potatoes. Thoughtfully, our host had delivered us a small electric oven and so our wish was granted. Our kitchen is so well stocked, we even have a gravy boat.

Wot, no sprouts?

We kept Christmas dinner traditional - at least as traditional as a vegetarian nut roast can get. As is even more traditional, we made much more food than strictly necessary and it was served up far later than intended. Of course, some of the time might have been lost to stroking a cat.

Now wash your hands

The heroic quantities of roast potatoes were sublime and the roast of mushrooms, cashews, peanuts, and tofu was rich and meaty in texture. Add broccoli, carrots and sweet potato mash and we had a feast for the 5000. Sadly, 4998 of them had failed to show up, so we rolled, fat and happy, onto the sofa.

But gout-fest didn't stop there. The requisite intermission was filled by my inauguration into the club of Dirty Dancing - greater social commentary on class equality, male chauvinism, abortion rights, and a society on the cusp of change than I had any right to expect given the film's billing as hen night fluff. Similarly, dessert was weightier than the light mousse we probably should have enjoyed.

Served in a tin mug? You hipster

Failing the ingredients for a proper plum duff, I made a bread pudding with coconut milk and bananas. The result was like the richest brioche I have ever eaten and sat, leaden, in my stomach. But it was so delicious. However, we had no appetite for any form of Christmas tea, so instead we filled our evening groaning on the sofa, greeting family by Skype, and listening to the final episode(s) of John Finnemore's brillant Cabin Pressure. Thanks Auntie.