Nigella‘s feasts
WHETHER YOU SEE THE WORDS
“cook, eat, repeat” as a reassuring reminder of a routine that provides solace and structure, anchoring us in what truly matters in life, or as a draining encapsulation of the drudgery of cooking, you will find much at Christmastime to confirm your views. Even those of us vehemently in the former camp cannot deny the encroaching exhaustion so dreaded by the latter. In truth, I exult in the cooking, but I can get worn down by all the planning and the never-ending clearing up. And yet, at the time of writing, under lockdown and unsure of how expansive Christmas celebrations might actually be in 2020, I feel a wistful pang for those frenziedly mapped-out schedules and shopping lists, those cluttered surfaces, messy tables, even those ever-full kitchen sinks and roasting pans on perma-soak.
But even curtailed Christmas celebrations in my house will, I know, rely on repetition and, what’s more, we’ll luxuriate in it. We human beings need ritual; for me, at Christmas that need is met in cooking and at the table. All families create their own traditions. They’re the ones that make you wake early in overexcitement as a child, the ones you feel stifled by in your adolescence, that you remember either in horror or in the glow of nostalgia as you get older. And then there are the ones you create yourself, allowing the cycle to start up all over again.
This is not only about the food, of course. It’s about the same jokes and the same rows; about when you put up the tree, and which decorations you hang on it; what time you open presents, and the film you watch after lunch (The Sound of Music ). It all matters. This year there will be some changes: the tree may well go up earlier than usual, for longer wallowing in the season, and there will be more fairy lights and candles everywhere.
Some things cannot change: I will never renounce my traditional Christmas lunch menu; that is untouchable. But I’ve written about it so much over the years, I scarcely feel the need to replay it here now, for all that the title of this book would seem to invite it. Anyway, the truth is, as long as I have my children around my table, I could eat gruel and be happy.
“A family favourite, it’s a simple
