For the Middleton household, this time of year always takes us back to a time when my bottom still had a private life. Picture it snuggled by the fireside, while the Middleton clan feasts on naughty seasonal fare and the occasional glass of vintage vino (of which more later) irregardless of any royal connections. But now that we are joined by my brother-in-law, Prince William, and my nephew, Prince George, this holiday should be extra lively. Like any typical British toddler, George is just learning to shoot. And if my fun brother-in-law Prince Harry joins the family, we can expect plenty of “frog” banter about my old French friend, the Vicomte. Typical!
It might seem hard to believe, but before my bottom became a global sensation, we celebrated New Year much like any other close-knit Berkshire family, with just a few local caterers and florists creating a cosy fête-champêtre for no more than a couple of hundred close friends. I have fond memories of the day my mother spelled out a huge X on the lawn, entirely out of my sister’s underwear, so my future brother-in-law, Prince William, would know where to land his helicopter for the traditional New Year’s masked hog roast. The blades made it fly all over the place, and as a forfeit we made the prince bob for eggs with a traditional thong on his head!
Old-fashioned British games are a must at any Middleton celebration. Though I have it on good authority that some of England’s most respected families prefer strip pétanque! Another fun game is sardines. On that subject, I still remember the time when Kate and William had to spend over 48 hours in a cupboard located under the stairs. My mother had accidentally locked the door! Fortunately, we Middleton girls are nothing if not practical, and it is a family tradition to leave a delicious Waitrose supper for two and a change of thongs in there, just in case.
Spin the bottle is another Middleton favourite. To play it, you need a bottle, almost any Waitrose bottle will do, but if it still contains liquid you might want to put the top on prior to spinning. Traditionally, the person it points to has to marry the other person. Tip: have a translator handy. French people do not always understand the English rules, although my mother says she could not have explained it more clearly.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take the chance to forget healthy eating for an hour or two at New Year. As shameless traditionalists, we Middletons still hold a Viennese-style ball every New Year’s Eve, starting with my signature canapés: stir-fried Waitrose stollen, drizzled with lashings of pureed haggis. Tip: don’t forget to invite some people, as few or as many as you like, though I recommend making a record of the number, so your marquee will be the right size. Decorate with bunting, a colourful flag-like substance which can be suspended between two different places. In my earlier career, as a roving bunting expert, I learned to distinguish different types, and to make sure the middle always hangs down lower than the sides. For afters, yummy Waitrose mince pies are a must-have, served with Vietnamese prawns and bacon jellies in every hue.
I know a winter-themed celebration for 2,000 might sound daunting, but if you start getting ready in September it leaves the daytime free for shooting or hunting or running a marathon in a tiny pair of mud-soaked shorts, whatever you fancy.
Like most families, we Middletons always find a moment in the New Year downtime to gather round a roaring fire with a tray of comforting turkey and haddock kebabs, and look back on the year. Nothing says Auld Lang Syne quite like my mother’s media spreadsheet. Woe betide the Middleton who has not brought a stack of the dreaded press cuttings! I predict fierce competition when my sister’s homemaking achievements come up against the edgier waves my little brother James has been making in the world of bespoke royal marshmallows. And having been on what one might call the receiving end (!) I can only admire the way James copes with the unwanted paps when he is out promoting royal marshmallows with supercool TV personality Donna Air.
Great Bottoms In History is the working title for a TV series which will follow my journey through time and place, starting with my sister’s wedding
As a journalist I adore journalism, so since deciding, entirely of my own accord, to let the Daily Telegraph column go, it has been thrilling to be commissioned by a leading US TV company, where there is a serious shortage of experienced writers with an in-depth knowledge of Hungerford. Great Bottoms In History is the working title for a series which will follow my journey through time and place, starting with my sister’s wedding, and also feature such exceptional hindquarters as Churchill’s, which he famously sat on throughout the war, as well as history’s most tragic butt ever (poor Kim Kardashian), prior to bringing my bottomology right up to date with a comparison between the typical Middleton derriere and Boris Johnson’s (I dare you Boris!). Most of us have bottoms but it’s amazing how little we know about them. There will be practical hints, too. What makes the perfect bottom? And how have I kept it that way?
But the most exciting thing of all about 2014, speaking as someone who never imagined she would one day be an international wine expert, has been my new qualification as an international wine expert. To be honest, nothing I have done, not even leaving the Telegraph, has been tougher than swotting for the two-week correspondence course gifted by my mother after I hit the big three-oh. But she is right, as always: these days I can hold my own with any French aristocrat (most of whom have no proper royal relations, even if they are Vicomtes). And it’s going to be great in my new TV series, What Kate Drinks, to share my expertise with ordinary Americans who long to be able to enjoy wine, in all its multi-thinged [subs pls adjust as appropriate Px] glory, but don’t know how.
I’ll be saving most of my wine tips for my next book, Inebriate!, Penguin’s lead title for 2015, but to give you a flavour, no pun intended, herewith are some expert hints for anyone thinking of toasting the New Year in.
1. Don’t be nervous. Most supermarkets have a wide selection of wine for sale. Just make sure you pick a time when Waitrose is open. If you’re unlucky enough to look ridiculously young for your age, I recommend taking proof of identity, or a copy of the Daily Mail, whichever is handier.
2. Which colour? Really, this is up to you. Do you prefer red, or whiteish, or pink? If none of these fit your chosen theme or outfit, don’t worry, food colourings work brilliantly in wine. Chez Middleton, we always settle down in front of Wimbledon with an emerald hued chardonnay, to accompany a selection of seasonal toffee-apples and matching hand-filled crackers.
3. Now you need to pick a country. Perhaps Italy floats your boat, or Spain might be a fun, festive alternative. Decorate the bottle with castanets. As a sporty type, I take a special interest in any wine from Australia. It goes well with cricket, and peppermint creams sculpted into kangaroos. Tip: make the kangaroos the night before, using a book about Australian fauna as your guide, and serve on a bat, to make the feast more special.
4. How much? Have a kitchen clear-out before shopping, to make sure you have space for your wine. If space is still short, digging underneath your house is a fun way of creating storage. Tip: children will enjoy helping.
5. If you’re the practical type, it can be fun to make your own wine. If you ensure your vineyard is in a warm area, your grapes should be ready in September. You could make grape-picking special by asking guests to a relaxed, harvest-themed celebration. I like the idea of piping hot sushi, served on haystacks, and melons stuffed with moussaka-filled bagels.
6. Lastly, invest in a good sharp corkscrew, and a couple of spares. I have learned, through bitter experience, that modern “screwtop” bottles are particularly hard on corkscrews. Civilised extras include glasses, one for each guest, so they have something to drink out of.
Bottoms up!
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