by Jenny Colgan
Andy was already opening the Red Lion, and the fiddles were starting up, but Huckle simply took Polly in his arms and carried her up the steps to the lighthouse.
And in that moment, as the old year paused before the new arrived, it was as if the world took a breath.
Polly didn’t believe in magic, but even so, as they crossed the threshold, in a flash, in a vision, she could see it, feel it all.
Even though the lighthouse was dark and cold and empty, it was as if, suddenly, she could hear her name being called; the bath running; Neil eeping, children charging up and down the stairs—and falling, from time to time—banging and making noise and charging in and out, and it sped up, it went so fast, the oven turning over, and the village children playing together, and friends arriving, and Reuben’s new school . . . and it sped up again, and the lamp in the lighthouse whizzed round and round as the boats followed the tide in and out and the freezing winters turned to perfect summers and the children came and went and shouted and grew and the bread filled the air with its scent and the children ran back from school and grabbed great handfuls of banana cake and dashed out again to dabble in rock pools with Neil, tousle-haired, shrimping nets in little fingers, clamoring to be allowed in the sidecar, and Herschel-Lowin, with his bright red hair and freckles, ran around pretending to be in charge . . .
Polly blinked and shook away the vision—far too much champagne, she thought, too much excitement, and tiredness, and emotion. All of those things.
“I love you, my darling,” said Huckle. “But I am going to have to put you down. It’s your dress that’s heavy.”
“I know,” she said, still half caught in the dream. “It’s definitely the dress.”
“Definitely,” said Huckle. “Shall I go and put the electric blanket on?”
“Yes, please,” said Polly.
And as he vanished upstairs, she turned, watching the lighthouse beam sweep over the harbor, the little town, out to the mainland, where the fireworks were already starting to pop, one two three, and just before she switched out the light, she went into the kitchen in her wedding dress, and she laid out the yeast and the flour and the eggs for the morning bread, and kissed Neil, already snuggled in front of the Aga, and put out the light, then ran upstairs, her skirt and a faint wake of flour trailing behind her.
AWESOME HOT CHOCOLATE
NB: Don’t add TOO much cream, otherwise it will turn into pudding. But do add marshmallows, even though those two statements contradict each other. Also keep an eye on the chocolate. If it gets above a simmer when it’s melting, it’s all over.
One large bar of milk chocolate (the size of one they offer you in shops when you buy a newspaper. The branding is completely up to you.)
One small bar of dark chocolate (Bournville or similiar but go posh as you like. If you like, e.g., chili flavoring (I don’t judge), go for that at this point.)
Brandy or Cointreau (optional)
750ml whole milk
A dollop of single cream (light cream)
Vanilla, to taste
Ginger or cinnamon, to taste
2 tsp sugar (optional)
Melt the chocolate INCREDIBLY slowly, stirring over a very low heat. If you’ve got small people chuntering around, they may need a distraction whilst you get this together. If you don’t, a small slug of brandy or Cointreau is practically de rigueur.
When the chocolate is melted, add up to 750ml of whole milk—the precise consistency is up to you—and a dollop of single cream. It should be lovely and thick but not dessert.
A spot of vanilla; a tiny pinch of ginger or cinnamon to taste. Some people add a teaspoon or two of sugar at this point, and that is entirely to your taste. I do.
If you have a foamer, use that; otherwise carefully whisk and pour.
Small marshmallows or tiny ones are up to you. I prefer the little ones because it feels like I get more. Don’t look at me like that.
Drink slowly. Possibly with this book in your hands.
KNISHES
Knishes are basically the Jewish version of a pasty. You can make your own pastry or just buy it; it should be very thin. They can be filled with meat or potatoes and onion or cream cheese. I don’t like the cream cheese one so much, so here’s the classic.
2kg potatoes
2 large onions
3 tsp. vegetable oil
Salt and pepper, to taste
Chopped parsley
For the pastry
800g flour
2 eggs
4 tsp. vegetable oil
Cup of warm water
1 tsp. of salt
Boil the potatoes and sauté (softly fry) the onions in the oil. Mash together with plenty of salt and pepper and parsley, and set aside to cool.
Mix the wet ingredients for the pastry, then gradually add the flour until its firm enough for kneading. Knead for a few minutes, then set aside to rest.
You want to roll the dough out as thin as possible, then put dollops of the potato mixture at intervals. Roll the whole thing up like a long sausage roll, but when you slice it up, you should be able to “wrap up” the entire thing in pastry, because the potato mixture isn’t touching—they should be round little parcels, if that makes sense.
Brush with eggwash and bake at 375°F for around 35 minutes. Perfect finger food. Dip in sour cream if so inclined.
MINCEMEAT TWISTS
I love making my own mincemeat. It feels like the start of Christmas and it will make you feel better about using puff pastry.
Mincemeat (prepare at least two weeks before)
275g currants
100g sultanas
250g raisins
3 tbsp. lemon juice
Lemon zest
300g suet
300g brown sugar
100g mixed peel
Pinch of nutmeg
2 peeled apples (firm green ones best)
QUITE a lot of brandy
SQUISH SQUISH SQUISH.
Then leave.
After a couple of hours, fill sterilized jam jars (I run them through a dishwasher on a boil setting), make sure the air is out (put one of those little gingham flat hats on it), and lock so they’re airtight. Otherwise they will spoil. Stick in the cupboard for two weeks. If I make extra, I give it away as gifts. When we lived in France, I gave it to my French friends and they all looked at me like I was a MANIAC.
I am sure the jars are still in their cupboards.
To make a twist, cut triangles out of the puff pastry. Put a spoonful of the mincemeat at the bottom and roll up. It doesn’t matter if they look slightly messy, that’s all part of the fun!
Brush with egg wash, sprinkle with brown sugar and bake for 30 mins at 400ºF, or until brown.
GALETTE DES ROIS
Where we live in France, the big thing to eat at Christmas is yule log (coming next) and, after Christmas, galette des rois up to the feast of the Epiphany, or Twelfth Night. There are little ceramic creatures, called fèves, or favors, hidden in each cake. They can be angels or religious figures, but these days you can also get Scooby Doo. Whoever finds it is crowned the Roi with the gold paper crown that traditionally goes around the outside. Then it is their turn to host the next galette des rois. We have found through trial and error it is usually prudent to push the fève piece toward the youngest person in the room. If you can’t lay your hand on some fèves, a coin wrapped in greaseproof paper should have the same cheerful effect in warding off the post-chrimbo blues.
1 roll ready-made puff pastry, unless you are a fantastic pastry nut (I worship you)
1 egg, beaten
2 tbsp. jam
100g soft butter
100g caster sugar (superfine sugar)
100g ground almonds
1 tbsp. brandy
Preheat the oven to 375ºF. Divide the ready-made puff pastry in half, and roll out each piece into two circles. Put one of the circles on a baking sheet and spread with the jam.
Whisk the butter and sugar un
til fluffy. Beat in most of the egg. Stir in the almonds, brandy, and add the fève.
Spread the mix on top of the jam, then cover with the second piece of pastry. Seal up with a pinch. You can decorate the top of the galette with a fork if you like.
Bake for 25 minutes or until crisp and golden. Serve warm or cold.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to everyone who’s been so incredibly supportive of Polly, Neil and the gang over the last three years, particularly:
Maddie West, Rebecca Saunders, David Shelley, Charlie King, Manpreet Grewal, Amanda Keats, Jen and the sales team, Emma Williams, Stephanie Melrose, Jo Wickham, Kate Agar, and all at Little, Brown; Jo Unwin, Isabel Adamakoh Young, the Amble Puffin Festival, and all our many dear rabbit friends and relations who were there so staunchly for me during an unusually tricky time. Love, and a very, very merry Christmas to you all.
About the Author
JENNY COLGAN is the New York Times bestselling author of numerous novels, including The Café by the Sea, The Bookshop on the Corner, and Little Beach Street Bakery, all international bestsellers. Jenny is married with three children and lives in London and Scotland.
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Praise for Jenny Colgan
“This funny, sweet story is Jenny Colgan at her absolute best.”
—Heat
“She is very, very funny.”
—Express
“A delicious comedy.”
—Red
“Fast-paced, funny, poignant and well observed.”
—Daily Mail
“Sweeter than a bag of jelly beans . . . had us eating up every page.”
—Cosmopolitan
“Will make you feel warm inside.”
—Closer
“Chick-lit with an ethical kick.”
—Mirror
“A quirky tale of love, work and the meaning of life.”
—Company
“A smart, witty love story.”
—Observer
“Full of laugh-out-loud observations . . . utterly unputdownable.”
—Woman
“Cheery and heart-warming.”
—Sunday Mirror
“A chick-lit writer with a difference . . . never scared to try something different, Colgan always pulls it off.”
—Image
“A Colgan novel is like listening to your best pal, souped up on vino, spilling the latest gossip—entertaining, dramatic and frequently hilarious.”
—Daily Record
“An entertaining read.”
—Sunday Express
“Part-chick lit, part-food porn . . . this is full on fun for foodies.”
—Bella
Also by Jenny Colgan
The Christmas Surprise
The Bookshop on the Corner
Summer at Little Beach Street Bakery
Christmas at Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop
Little Beach Street Bakery
The Loveliest Chocolate Shop in Paris
Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop of Dreams
Meet Me at the Cupcake Café
The Good, the Bad, and the Dumped
Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend
Operation Sunshine
West End Girls
Where Have All the Boys Gone?
Do You Remember the First Time?
Working Wonders
Looking for Andrew McCarthy
Talking to Addison
Amanda’s Wedding
Credits
Cover design by Mumtaz Mustafa
Cover photograph © Tim Gainey / Alamy Stock Photo, © Alemon cz / Shutterstock (bow)
Hanging christmas balls illustration © Hallin/Shutterstock, Inc.
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
CHRISTMAS AT LITTLE BEACH STREET BAKERY. Copyright © 2017 Jenny Colgan. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Originally published in Great Britain in 2016 by Sphere.
FIRST EDITION
Digital Edition OCTOBER 2017 ISBN: 978-0-06-266300-9
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-266299-6
ISBN 978-0-06-269784-4 (hardcover library edition)
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