First, knit your turkey a balaclava . . .
4 DAYS BEFORE: Take your turkey for a brisk walk in the countryside. Being a dry bird, the turkey greatly benefits from fresh air in its lungs. If the weather is cold, it’s best to wrap your turkey up well. For further tips, see Knitting A Balaclava For Your Christmas Turkey, by Mary Berry.
Set your oven to a low heat. Fly to Provence and scout local markets for fresh rosemary.
3 DAYS BEFORE: Start implementing your Christmas conversations. Recommended icebreakers include:
1) ‘ We’re driving down to my sister-in-law’s in Dorset on the 22nd, and then up to friends in Norfolk on the 23rd, and then across to my mum’s in Wales on Christmas Eve and then home to Scotland on Christmas Day, so it should be fine, just as long as the M4 isn’t too busy around Swindon.’
2) ‘They’re saying there could be heavy congestion on the B9387, so we’ve decided to take the A394 and then the B9426 as far as the B3194, and then cut across on the A492 and A493.’
For further tips, see Christmas Banter In Five Easy Steps, by Mary Berry.
3) Turn your oven down a notch, then change your mind and turn it up again. Repeat this process every few hours until Christmas Day itself.
Make sure your turkey is comfortable. Place it in an armchair close to the television and treat it to a glass of five-star brandy with nibbles. For heaven’s sake, don’t mention Christmas lunch within its hearing. Around this time of year, the average turkey can begin to grow nervy. 2 DAYS BEFORE: Safety first. Wear boxing gloves to peel your sprouts. It may add 48 hours to the process, but will prevent damage to your fingernails.
Around 2pm, start to panic. Key phrases to employ are: a) ‘I’ve left it far too late!’ b) ‘ They’ll all be here in under 43 hours and I still haven’t done the potatoes!’ c) ‘ Has anyone seen the bread sauce?’ d) ‘Oh my goodness, I’m already behind with the sprouts!’
If you have an Aga, place a delicacy in one of the more obscure compartments now, ready to discover its charcoaled remains just in time for New Year.
By now, you should be nearly halfway through peeling the sprouts. For ideas on how to spray-paint your sprout-peelings in gorgeous golds and reds, consult Mary Berry’s How To Make Your Sprout Peelings Delightfully Christmassy.
To ensure your Christmas turkey tastes its best, give it a choice of last meal and the chance to say some moving last words. Then kill it, stuff it and pop it in the oven. CHRISTMAS EVE: By now, your family game of Monopoly should be drawing to a close. First aid should be applied to all seriously injured competitors and the rest should be forced to apologise. Open your oven door and ask your turkey how he’s getting on in there. If a reply is forthcoming, he’s still underdone. CHRISTMAS DAY, 3.30am: Set your alarm so that you have plenty of time to panic. Forgotten the carrots? No problem! Just drive to the allnight supermarket, taking the B1097, and then join the motorway at Junction 9 before turning off onto the A396 at Junction 14. 5.30am: On your return from the supermarket, continue to peel the sprouts. 8.30am: Open the oven door to check how the turkey is doing. If it turns around and gives you a thumbs- up, it is still not fully cooked. 11.15am: The first child arrives in the kitchen saying: ‘Is it ready yet?’ Now is the time to lose it. Bash Mary Berry’s book, Christmas Made Simple, with a pestle and mortar until it is finely crushed. 12.45pm: Continue to peel the sprouts. Estimate approximately 53 sprouts per person, just to be on the safe side. 2.15pm: Remove the turkey from the oven. Stick a fork in its side. If it yelps, it is not yet properly cooked. Return it to oven and wait until the day after Boxing Day. Then turn to your family waiting expectantly around the table. In your merriest voice, say ‘Sprouts, anyone?’