Christmas was always one of the best times of the year for our family. Growing up on an Army base in Germany, the odds of having at least a few inches of snow in December were pretty good. School would be on hiatus for a few weeks, so my brother and I and our friends would make the most of the shortened days on the sledding hill behind our apartment block, a doubly sloping expanse with an enormous pear tree sticking out of it. The lot of us would trudge up and propel ourselves down again and again, until the hillsides were stripped bare of snow. As evening fell, my brother and I would head inside cold, wet and exhausted, but would always be met by a hot mug of cocoa or egg nog.
As Christmas Eve approached, the family would head off base – or "on the economy," it was called – to nearby Trier or Idar-Oberstein to see the outdoor Weihnachtsmarkt. Kiosks and stalls would fill the city square, selling candles, blown glass decorations, Polish pottery, handmade toys and all sorts of sweets and baked goods. Cups of mulled Glühwein or a cone of roasted chestnuts held in mittened hands, we'd browse around and soak in the sounds and smells that were unique to this season.
In the German fashion, we'd open gifts on Christmas Eve after evening service at the base chapel. When we awoke early Christmas morning, my brother and I would have stockings filled with treats and a few small straggling gifts to surprise us. And while we tried not to break our teeth on a wedge of chocolate orange, our mum would fix herself some coffee before making our family her Scotch eggs.
More than any other part of the holiday season, that plate with a Scotch egg on it felt the most like Christmas in our household. The tree might be up for a few weeks and the reduced fat nog could be bought by the gallon well into February, but only one morning a year were we able to enjoy the egg – soft-boiled, wrapped in sausage and fried – while playing with some special new things and hanging around together, just the four of us.
It's a tradition I still continue, and a one I don't mind sharing. To make your own, you will need...
• two pounds of pork sausage
• one cup of bread crumbs
• two eggs, whisked
• six eggs, soft-boiled for 3 or 4 minutes
• enough flour to dredge with
• seasonings
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and have a baking sheet ready, but out of the way. To fry the eggs, have either a deep pan with oil or a deep fryer hot and ready, at around 300 degrees or so.
Season your sausage as you prefer; I like a tablespoon of mustard powder, some garlic and a dash of cloves. Divide the sausage into six parts and flatten into rounds. Lightly flour a peeled, boiled egg and pop one into the center of each sausage patty. Roll the sausage up over the egg, then dredge this with flour. Set up a couple of bowls with the whisked eggs and breadcrumbs in each. Coat each floury meatball in the egg before rolling it in breadcrumbs.
You now have half a dozen Scotch eggs, ready to fry. Once the oil is ready, fry your eggs one or two at a time – whichever seems safest according to the method you're using – making sure to turn them as they brown. Once the sausage is a golden color, you may want to dry the excess oil from your eggs with a paper towel before transferring them to your baking sheet. Once all are done pop the lot of them into the oven for five or ten minutes.
Let them cool then serve with your favorite sauce or syrup.
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