When I was 17 my first nephew was born, which means that ever since I’ve been an adult there have always been kids around at Christmas. It also means that I’ve always gone back to my parents’ place in England, or to my brother’s house in Belgium. For the most part, Christmas is about children and I’ve been happy enough to travel to wherever the majority of my family happens to be. But I’ve always secretly harboured a desire to host Christmas in my own home: a truly adult Christmas with a classy tree, grown-up friends, and the quantities of alcohol you can only get away with when you know you’re not going to have to babysit afterwards.
This year, completely independently and for various reasons, several of my friends and I all decided to stay in Amsterdam for Christmas. And so I cooked. Here’s what we had…
