You can be a *little* deranged at the holidays. As a treat.

Some years ago – I don't quite remember when, it might've been 2009 or 2010 – I volunteered as a course worker at the New York City Marathon. I was stationed just inside the entrance to Central Park, where runners enter for their final loop after having already run 23-and-change miles through the five boroughs. It's a great spot to watch the race, with crowds thronging the barricades five-deep in some places. The energy is immaculate; people want those runners to succeed.

The year I worked there (I later ran the race myself, that's not the point of this anecdote at all, but the point of running the race itself is to bring it up in perpetuity no matter how thin the pretense, which I'm doing now with this unnecessary parenthetical), one spectator was especially vocal and supportive, yelling over and over to the runners:

"You can do it! This is the last hill!"

Now, I try my best not to police others' enthusiasm, but as a runner myself, I eventually felt the need to speak up.

"Ma'am, you have to stop saying that... this isn't the last hill at all."

Indeed, while our spot on the course was a motivating one for the runners – entering the park really does feel like you're getting closer to the finish like – they still had about two and a half miles to go, and at least three moderately-challenging hills remained. The race was far from over, something I would confirm myself several years later.

(You know, when I ran it. Did I mention that?)

Well, that's what today feels like.

It's December 12th, and it feels like the holidays are almost here. It feels like the year is almost over. In reality, though, there's still 13 days left until Christmas, still 19 days until New Year's. There's still shopping to do, still travel to undertake, still school and work obligations left to close out. Our legs are burning, our tanks are empty, our best-case hopes already thrown into serious question, but we've still got a few more hills to crest at a point when anything bigger than an anthill feels like a mountain. What can we do to push ourselves over the finish line?

We can delude ourselves, that's what.

That's what the holidays are really all about, right? It's getting darker, so we cover our houses in twinkling lights. It's getting colder, so we dig in on the coziest vibes we can. We're stressed out, so we listen to the cheeriest, goofiest music ever made. There's a line from one of comedian Steve Martin's biographies that's stuck with me for years – one I'm sure you won't be surprised to find resonated with me:

"Through the years, I have learned there is no harm in charging oneself up with delusions between moments of valid inspiration."

Whatever lunacy you're engaged in right now – whether it's putting antlers on your car, hiding a snitch elf around your house, filling your yard with inflatables or simply listening to "Wonderful Christmastime" on repeat – we're all just trying to make it through December. We're just trying to push ourselves over that last hill, and then the three others that well-meaning spectator didn't tell us about.

Me? I'm gonna make a Christmas tree out of cold cuts.

We'll get to that in a minute.

Friends, it's Friday once again at The Action Cookbook Newsletter.

I'm ready to send the year out in style, and I've got a full bag of goodies today, including:

• A quick, easy and delicious party dip!
• Fruitcake, but in punch form!
• Non-holiday music, a December-appropriate book, some nostalgic TV viewing, pets, and more!

Oh, and a Christmas tree made of meat and cheese. Let's talk about that first.

O Aufschnittbaum, O Aufschnittbaum–

This past weekend, we hosted a small gathering for neighbors, friends and some of our kids' friends' families. The stated centerpiece of said party was a cookie exchange–everyone brings a batch of cookies and leaves with a variety. It's a great way to conduct a party, but of course, I can't help but do something extra.

Last year, my additional focal point was one of those giant Serrano hams that Costco sells, and while it was a hit, it also became a burden for the remainder of December (it lasts for weeks!) and vaguely represented my nutritional rock-bottom for 2024. I ignored my kids' entreaties (more ham, father!) and refused to procure another.

Still, we needed something wacky – and we found the perfect thing, in the form of a Charcuterie Tree. (Charcutree? We had some debate on this.)

This is not, I will concede, an ACBN-original idea; my wife saw one on Instagram and we quickly agreed to ape the concept, which is simple: buy a foam cone at a craft store, wrap it in food-safe plastic wrap, then spear meats, cheeses, olives, tomatoes and herbs onto it to look like a Christmas tree. On the one hand, it's an extremely Internet-coded food, but on the other hand it is also something that would not be the least bit out of place in a 1960s entertaining guide.

I bought all the necessary ingredients and items, and was wholly prepared for our attempt to turn into a Nailed It!-level failure, but... well, it turned out great!

My daughter carved the star out of Havarti, and later ate it herself. Powerful stuff.

It was a big hit, and I recommend you make your own Charcutree this holiday season.

Cut some fish up into bits, when I dip you dip we dip

As we geared up for said gathering, my son expressed interest in preparing a dish together, and we leafed through a few cookbooks together. Ultimately, it couldn't be anything that used the oven – my wife's cookie-baking efforts had it fully booked – so we opted for a cold dip.