Cooking Christmas Puns

because there’s no plate like chrome for the hollandaise!

When my brother and I were little, we put out milk and cookies for Santa and carrots for the reindeers on Christmas eve, and woke up on Christmas morning to find them mostly eaten. We were delighted at proof of our nighttime visitors.

The next year our dad told us he had gotten an inside tip from the north pole: that Santa actually liked ramen and beer, not milk and cookies (as other, less well informed, dads and kids had always thought).

For years, we dutifully cooked ramen, put it on a table by the fireplace with a cold beer on the side, and woke up to the ramen and beer having been consumed in the night.

I knew my dad wasn't fond of milk or cookies, but it wasn't until later that we connected the dots and found out the deal about Santa. My dad was the one who ate the Santa food once we went to bed, and he had secretly convinced us to prepare his ideal midnight snack for as long as we believed in Santa.

Was cooking pancakes for the whole family the day before Christmas, usually we have 4-5 people in the house when I make pancakes and I do a double recipe but this time there were 12, so I needed to make more. As I'm bringing them out, I say "Normally I'd make Irish pancakes, you know, while I'm making them I'm Dublin the recipe, but because there's so many of you I had to make Libyan pancakes, and every ingredient here is Tripoli multiplied."