Peppermint Meringues

Have you seen the movie The Descendents? It’s with George Clooney and it won a bunch of awards at the Golden Globes. It’s really good. If you haven’t yet, you should. And bring tissues. I saw it by myself on a Wednesday afternoon and the experience was a lot like the movie itself – kind of depressing, but still super enjoyable. Seeing movies by myself is kind of my new thing. Anyway, so there’s this part in the movie that really made me laugh. It had little to no significance to the actual storyline, and it’s quite possible that even if you saw it, you missed it. George Clooney’s character walks in on his friends, a couple, fighting. They were arguing over having company over. The husband didn’t understand why it was so challenging and he says something like, you don’t need a new outfit and a signature cocktail every time we have our friends over. I seriously LOL’d. Because, I mean, obviously - you do.

To celebrate the holidays (remember how we’re still doing that over here?), I had some girlfriends over for a small gathering. We had planned to go ice skating, but you know how it goes when girls start gabbing - one bottle of wine turns into two, and then three, and four. We spent our evening in the kitchen until our alcohol intake became a safety hazard. So instead of ice skating we went to the bars. No complaining on my part. I had already made it out on the rink earlier in the week. And if you were wondering, I face planted attempting to do an arabesque. I wish I could say alcohol was a factor.

Inspired by Bon Appetit Magazine, I set out to make these peppermint meringues. They started out so promising, beautifully piped on the pan, with red swirls and soft white peaks. And then I cooked them at 275 degrees instead of 200 and they came out looking like little brown hershey’s kisses. But I’m going to blame my oven on this one, because apparently 275 is the lowest temperature it is able to cook at. And apparently 75 degrees is a big difference? Let’s cut our losses and move on to the spiked apple cider, which made my house smell so delicious. Like if Christmas had a smell, it would be this apple cider. Okay, so maybe the smell of Christmas is pine, or sugar cookies, or whatever, but this smelled delicious. The taste, not so much. Apparently I don’t like dark rum. Who knew? But if you do, you can follow this recipe. And if you were curious, this was the top I wore. Underneath a tartan plaid flannel, tucked in to a black mini skirt, with polka dotted tights and black suede wedges. So yes, obviously every occasion calls for a new outfit and signature cocktail. And you should probably snatch up that sequin tank pretty quick, it’s on sale and everything. 

That's my dining room table. No, we didn't have a formal, sit down Christmas dinner. And yes, I do have a full set of Christmas dishes. I also have a full set of martini glasses adorned with silver and gold ornaments, serving platters (as photographed above), and red and green mugs used to serve cider. I realize I have a problem. But no, I'm not doing anything about it. What I don't have is a picture of my tree. And I really wish I did. It was quite lovely and I'm sure you would have just died over it. It's a fake white tree, with far too many white lights, pink, blue, green, and orange ornaments similar to those on my dinner table, and glittery ribbons. Straight out of Martha Stewart Living, I swear.