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Santa Claus

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'I don't think I have a problem with weight. I'm happy the way I am. Mind you, I suppose I do have to let my belt out a bit each year. The trouble is that when you come from the North Pole, you tend to love fattening, warming foods. I'll eat anything from burgers to black pepper steaks. Hearty stuff.

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'And, yes, I have eaten reindeer. But, ssssshhh, that's off the record, OK? I love a good reindeer chop stuffed with porcini, or reindeer sausages with garlic mashed potatoes, maybe a reindeer roast with a lemon caper sauce or in puff pastry. Of course, there are certain reindeers I wouldn't dream of . . . Well, anyway, I'd never go out and buy reindeer meat. And you have to watch the toxin levels in everything up here these days. But if it's on the menu, how can you resist? 'I always eat out. I never have learned to cook - and it's just not the same eating on your own in the grotto. You know Mrs Claus left me recently because of the smog and ultra-violet radiation up here, don't you? Anyway, what's the point of cooking when I have all those elves to help out in the kitchen? I get all my domestics sorted out for me because I'm so busy travelling. And yes, before you ask, it's true the elves do work 16-hour days and I have cut their wages by 20 per cent. But they're part of the family and so they understand it's getting harder to buy all those presents in the recession.

'I do the shopping, though. I always stock up the sleigh with lots of fresh ingredients on my return trips. Heaven knows what will happen if customs stop me and ask to open all those sacks.

'Christmas pudding is my downfall, I have to admit. That and selection boxes. I wish people would stop leaving them out. I like to keep everyone happy, you see, so when they've gone to the trouble of leaving a plate of food out for me, what can you do? It's the five millionth piece of fruitcake that's a little hard to stomach. Chocolate mousse flavoured with cognac or baked apple tart would be a different matter. Still, there are always New Year resolutions, aren't there?'

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