Let's Cut the BS, Fat Man

Santa,
I'm sure you remember me, we met a few weeks ago.

I'm the one without the face suit, thank you.

Unless I met one of your many impersonators... you bearded folk are like the Elvis of Yuletide Vegas. Anyway, I digress.

Let's address the flying elephant in the room. The reindeer.

They don't look like this.

Please. These aren't pulling any sleigh. You get to every house in a single night and that clearly takes magic. If you have magic, you can use it to haul your very-overweight-to-obese self all over the world. That means these

are dead weight. Ipso facto. 

With these facts in mind, I'd like to present you with my Christmas list. Deviate at your peril.

Dasher.

Dasher with port demi-glace.

Dancer.

Dried Dancer, thinly sliced from the leg.

Prancer.

Prancer au poivre, with carmelized leeks.

Vixen.

Vixen sous vide.

Comet.

Cured Comet, with dried beetroot and chili pickle apple.

Cupid.

Heart of Cupid, tartare.

Donner.

Donner, Party style. Rare.

Blitzen.

Blackened Blitzen, with fingerling potatoes.

Since these same deer have been working for you for decades, they are likely immortal and that means they'll keep forever without spoiling. Bonus.

I did wonder why so many reindeer recipes featured these little red berries...

Until I realized they were meant to be reminiscent of this.

Bon appetit.

Signed, 

Serafina