Christmas dinner
(and why we’re not actually cooking it!)
Back when I lived in Ireland and my kids were small, I used to write for a food magazine. Not sure they still exist but I won’t name them just in case. They knocked me for about five invoices so I stopped writing for them ha. I wrote a huge Christmas dinner how to guide, which included a cockerel (loads of people at the time would cook them instead of a turkey). Anyway, when I stopped writing for the mag, I carried on doing it on the blog instead. I’m sure I said pretty much the same thing every year, which was don’t panic! It’s just a big roast dinner, but it’s worth reminding you that it’s your Christmas too, so enlist everyone to help, and do as much as you can before the big day. This year, in our tiny cottage with very limited kitchen square footage, we’re opting for a pared back version, but still, if you want all the turkey tips and timings, I’m your woman.
If you’re catering for a couple of vegetarians or vegans, I suggest doubling up on the stuffing (it’s delicious on its own, but I often squish up some veggie sausages and add them into the mix).
My one absolute, must-do for cooking a Christmas dinner is writing a plan. Once you’ve weighed your prepped turkey (or rib of beef or whatever, frankly) and worked out the cooking time (you might get times with your turkey, or Jamie Oliver’s site has a good guide) grab a pen and a notebook. Start with the time you want to sit down to eat, then work backwards, adding in reminders and times for everything: putting the pudding on to steam, basting the turkey, roasting the potatoes, etc. I tend to scribble it out roughly, because I always forget something, then write it out properly in the order I’m going to do it.
Remember, when you’re writing out your timings, that the turkey will keep piping hot for at least an hour, and actually considerably longer.
Do as much prep as you can the night before:
I always buy a disposable foil turkey tray – you don’t want to spend your Christmas evening scrubbing tins. Just recycle it afterwards. Don’t bother washing your turkey – the heat of the oven kills any germs and you’ll just spread all sorts of yuck around your sink.
If you’re cooking a whole turkey, it’s nice to enhance the flavour with a few extras, so cut up a couple of lemons or clementines, squeeze them over the bird and then stick them into the body cavity along with a halved onion and whatever herbs you have: bay and rosemary is nice (I’m not a fan of actually putting stuffing in the turkey). Mush up half a pack of butter with some lemon or clementine zest, salt, pepper and a little chopped rosemary or parsley. Then just squish the butter all over the turkey (if you’re not too squeamish, you can put it under the skin of a whole turkey - don’t worry about breaking it - it’s pretty sturdy). I add a couple of slices of clementine and maybe a sprig or two of rosemary on top too.
If, like me, you favour a turkey crown, then it’s even easier, you just do the butter squishing and decorating bit. You can wrap string around it if you’re worried it won’t stay put.
Once you’ve finished with your enhancements, cover the whole thing quite tightly with foil (don’t buy that ridiculously expensive turkey foil – just overlap the normal stuff), then pop it in the fridge, or if it won’t fit, leave it somewhere cool until you need it – a box in the garage as it’s nice and cold in there, but if we have a sudden warm snap you’ll need to pack a bit of ice around it (it needs to be less than 4 degrees).
Cooking the turkey
Bring the turkey up to room temperature before you start to cook it, or you’ll waste the first half hour or so of cooking time on doing exactly that. If it’s a smaller bird or just a crown, 30 minutes should do it. Then just whack it in the oven. Everyone does it differently - my Mum always used to cover it in foil for the first hour or so, then take it off for the rest of the cooking time. Some people like to keep basting, others just leave it alone. Do whatever you feel comfortable with.
If you’re cooking a whole turkey, check it’s done by grabbing a spoon, then stabbing it with a knife on the thickest part of the thigh (think of it as the fattest bit of the drumstick where it meets the body). If it’s a crown, stab the thickest part of the breast. Collect some of the meat juices with the spoon then tip them onto a white plate. There should be no trace of blood. Or just use a meat thermometer - stab it in the same place - it should be at least 70 degrees C.
Then just get the turkey out of your way, snuggled up in some foil and covered with a couple of clean tea towels until you need it, freeing up the oven for roasties, stuffing, parsnips, etc.
My favourite Christmas sides
Apple, red onion and chestnut stuffing
Having made this a couple of times, I have a few thoughts: firstly, don’t make the breadcrumbs too fine. It helps to add a bit of ‘bite’, so sourdough or baguette crumbs work well. If you’re not veggie, add some finely sliced streaky bacon (it’s actually yum with halloumi instead). We prefer it a little bit drier, so I only add about 100ml of the stock, but go with what you like best.
You will need:
100g butter or plant-based spread
2 red onions, finely chopped
1 dessert apple, grated (don’t bother to peel)
1 small sweet potato, peeled and grated
1 large punnet mushrooms, whizzed in the blender
100g fresh white breadcrumbs – not too fine
180g pack of cooked chestnuts, chopped
A big handful of chopped herbs: sage, thyme, parsley, etc
Squeeze of clementine juice
100-200ml vegetable stock
1 tsp salt and a generous grinding of fresh black pepper
Gently heat the butter in the frying pan and add in the onion (and bacon if using). Fry very gently until softened. Add in the apple, sweet potatoes and mushrooms and cook that just until it’s a bit darker in colour and softened.
Remove from the heat and allow to cool. I make the stuffing in the mixer, but if you’re doing it without one I suggest you just get your hands in there – it’s the easiest way to combine everything.
So now just bung it all together: the cooled onion, apple, sweet potato and mushroom mixture, the breadcrumbs, crumbled chestnuts, herbs and juice, and give it a good old mix. If it seems really dry, add a good slug of veggie stock, but if you’re happy with the mixture, feel free to leave it out. This really depends on how soft you like your stuffing.
Season well (you can fry a teaspoon of mixture if you want to check the seasoning) then transfer to your buttered dish. Decorate with a couple of clementine slices and sage leaves, if you like.
Your stuffing will take about 30-35 minutes (it’s nicer with a crispy top) in the oven at about 190/gas 5 (180 if you’ve got a fan oven) so basically you can pop it in with the roasties. You can also make stuffing balls, and obviously depending how big you make them, the balls will take less time to cook.
For the roast potatoes
If you’ve got vegetarian guests, obviously swerve any duck fat, but apart from that you should be good to go. I chose the biggest, smoothest (easier to peel), floury baking potatoes for my roast potatoes. On Christmas Eve (or even a couple of days before), just peel them, cut into evenly sized chunks and pop them into a saucepan of generously salted cold water. Bring them to the boil, then turn them down and simmer for as long as you dare. Watch them like a hawk – you want them fluffy, but obviously don’t want them to be breaking apart. Drain, leave to steam until cool, then either refrigerate (if it’s the night before) or open freeze them by popping them on a baking tray in the freezer until they’re solid then you can transfer them to a lidded container (or use a bowl covered tightly with foil). They’ll be fine there in the freezer until you need them.
On Christmas Day, make sure the oven is hot, then coat the bottom of a nice big roasting tin with oil (just coat it, I find it a bit gross when they’re swimming in fat). Once the fat is hot, pop the potatoes in straight from frozen (or chilled – it doesn’t matter) for around an hour, basting occasionally until crisp and golden. For added yumminess, chuck in some whole sprigs of thyme or rosemary and a handful of whole garlic cloves too.
For the veggie sides
We love sprouts - just steam them, then cool them down until you need them, then they can be fried with chestnuts and bacon (or no bacon) and herbs.
We love carrots (I love parsnips too , but the other half isn’t keen) roasted with thyme and honey, (some vegans don’t eat honey, so a good swap is maple syrup). Peel and chop carrots (and parsnips) into quarters (don’t go too fine or they’ll burn) and just pop them in the fridge until you need them. On the big day just chuck them into a baking tin, drizzle with oil and whatever sweet stuff you’re using, season with salt and pepper, and bake in the oven. They always take longer than you think – check after half an hour and pop them back if they’re not soft, sticky and gorgeous.
Braised red cabbage
I love sweet, appley, spiced red cabbage and it’s a doddle to do. Just shred, then cook it down with a dash of vinegar, some apple juice, cinnamon and star anise and a chopped apple or two. Add sugar to taste.
Oh, and as always, just remember that if anything goes a bit wrong and something gets burned or forgotten, it’s not the end of the world. Enjoy the day, pour yourself a drink and remember: it’s just dinner. So have a glass of fizz or two, open some pressies (say you love it even if you hate it), enjoy your loved ones (even the annoying ones), eat too much, watch some trashy telly, put a Santa hat on the dog and have a wonderful day. xx