Buy it for someone else who needs it
It’s coming round to that time of year, when you’ve ticked all the easy ones of your list, and you’re facing into the fact you’ve only got that one awkward so and so to still shop for. We all have at least one, and every year it’s tough going. My best advice is shop early for these ones, it doesn’t get any easier the later you leave it!
So, what would I suggest for those awkward ones that say “don’t get me anything”? Here’s a few ideas:
1. Don’t. Literally. Don’t buy anything for them, buy something for someone else who is in much greater need. You can even get them with a food theme. With Gift in Action from Action Aid, you could buy cocoa tree saplings, a community garden or a goat breeding programme. Practical Presents offer a fireless cooker, a cool zeer pot or some funky chicks. Someone else gets to cook to survive, they don’t get a blueberry vodka filled stiletto.
2. Buy them something they have forgotten they loved. I think this is where the more unusual nostalgic sweets come into their own, and I love the decade boxes that A Quarter Of have. There are boxes from the 50s onwards, with the 50s having Pontefract Cakes and Peanut Brittle, whilst the 70s (peak sweet eating time for me) has Tooty Frooties, which makes it all worthwhile for me. The other good option for foodies is a much earlier cookbook, to revisit food from your childhood. Nothing for me makes a day better than cooking up cakes from the BeRo cookbook. Check out Alibris for out of print stuff.
3. Buy them something they’ve always wanted to do. I think experiences rather than things are often a better bet, and memories have value for such a long time afterwards. Long after the blueberry vodka has gone. I would think even the least festive feeling person in the world would be happy to find themselves the recipient of a booking on a course at The School of Artisan Food or perhaps bread making with Richard Bertinet in Bath. For something even more niche, how about a sugar decorations masterclass or even a home food smoking course. Smiles guaranteed, both on Christmas Day and on the day of the class.
4. Do something for them. Be the commis chef on Christmas Day, without complaint or tutting. Sort out their cookbooks, or put all the recipes they’ve been collecting into some sort of sensible system for future reference. Get the oven professionally cleaned. Plant salad ready for next year (sorry, can’t remember, sure there are types you could plant now). Just think about the things they always complain they never get round to doing.
5. Go all out and spoil them. Notch up a Michelin starred restaurant or two, or at the nearest top one from the Good Food Guide. Travel overseas and exploit their best food offering, or even just different food offerings to what’s on offer near you.
Don’t leave this till the last minute, as you may need to do more question asking to just get a really good feel for anything except option 1. Failing that, just buy them the Giant Gummi Bear and a jar of Marshmallow Fluff. That’ll teach them.
