We Three Kings of Orient Are!

And so, a new tradition has been born!  And I must say that I am beyond pleased with ourselves because of it.  Yesterday, being the Eve of Epiphany, Emilia and I knocked ourselves out by making a (so very yummy) Galette des Rois.  Or rather, we made the vanilla pastry cream the day before, and then I caused an enormous racket in the kitchen finishing it yesterday, while she was supposed to be taking her nap.  (She just laid in her bed belting out Frosty the Snowman as loudly as she could.) 

Anyway, I look forward to making a lovely Galette des Rois all year.  I love it -- I love this sort of baking, and I love this sort of celebration.  Because like it or not, Epiphany belongs to the Church.  There is no bastardizing of it, and there is no forcing it to be secular.  There is no Santa and there is no Bunny.  There are just three rather dusty old men, who finally rolled into Bethlehem so that they might worship Jesus.

In addition to the marvelous Galette des Rois, we also decided to come bearing gifts, much in the manner of the three wise men.  And instead of gold, frankincense, and myrrh (these really serve no practical purpose, by today's standards -- well, apart from the gold anyway), we opted for other things.  Emilia got toy fruit and vegetables that she can cut and/or peel, which are really quite slick.  And I got the book The Bachelors, by the much adored Muriel Spark, and Michael got whisky stones and a jigger.  Not bad, not bad at all.  We talked about it a few weeks ago, and sort-of settled on the idea of doing small gifts under the categories of:  religious, a book, or something to do with drinks.  Emilia's gift doesn't really fit any of these categories, but it is stinking cute and more fun than the lame food that came with the kitchen that Santa brought.

So anyway, it went like this:
Michael came home from work, saw the lovely display on the table and immediately started grousing about his gift not being up to par and all that.  And then I yelled at him to shut-it because, 'Lookee -- doesn't the table look so pretty with the Three Kings and the cake and all?  Yeesh.'  So then we all sat down to lovely piping hot bowls of French three-grain soup and a warm loaf of bread.  Yum.  And then Michael found a piece of chalk and we all walked outside.  You are supposed to write the initials of the three wise men above your door, mixing the year into it.  So it went like this: 20+G+M+B+11.  And then he read a prayer from his new phone.  We were supposed to have our priest come over and do the blessing for us, but we didn't think Father Nagel would appreciate getting a call to be to our house pronto, if you please.

Bless, O Lord, Almighty God, this home, that in it there may be health, chastity, strength of victory, humility, goodness, and industry, a fullness of law and the action of graces through God the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost; and that this blessing may remain on this home and on those who frequent it. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Then we went back in the house, popped open a bottle of Prosecco, opened the last presents of the Christmas season, cut huge slices of cake, and were happy as clams, or however the saying goes.