Just to be clear, the plan to eat in a restaurant for our Christmas Day lunch, rather than host it at home, was not a spontaneous one. The process began at approximately 8.30pm on December 24, 2015. There were the usual preparations taking place for the next day’s big meal at our place — potatoes to be peeled, Brussels sprouts to be scored, chestnut stuffing to be made, parsnips to be blanched.
As usual most of these activities were not under control. My action list was out of whack and time slots were being missed. I dimly recall saying something like “I don’t see why you can’t help with some of this” to my 20-year-old son Sam and my partner David (who had, to be fair, done something with the carrots) and it was as if I had tapped in the nuclear codes.
A heated couple of hours later the debate ended by my son declaring this was the last time he was going to have a Christmas like this: “Next year I’m going somewhere else.” And me snapping “fine” as I stormed off to find a bucket to brine the turkey.
To put this into context, “a Christmas like this” is a Christmas that I really love. Ever since I was a child I have adored the day or at least I have adored what I think of as the day — the oft-repeated rituals, the feeling of time out of time — even if the actual experience has frequently had its problems.
I am still excited by waking on Christmas morning to the particular hush of the London streets almost entirely bereft of traffic. I like to see the Christmas trees sparkling in the houses and flats round about and because I am childishly enthusiastic about presents I also love to see a huge pile under the tree.
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Although the precise formula of my Christmas Day has changed over the years, the differences are slight. There are still the same red felt stockings from my childhood to be opened first thing, the sound of carols coming from the radio that used be switched on by my mother and now by me, the morning gift exchange between those of us in the house followed by the arrival of lunch guests and then the big meal.
Many years ago I decided if it weren’t for women Christmas wouldn’t exist and certainly it is true that I have imposed this plan on those who live with me. No boyfriend or husband has altered in any detail the way I have spent the day nor, until this year, any child. Once I became a parent, my husband was happy to comply with the big lunch particularly when it could include his two children from his previous marriage. When we broke up he still spent Christmas with us, as they often did. So it seemed natural when I began to live with someone else — who also had two children from a previous relationship plus a nice ex and her new husband — that they join in too. Add any friends who could encourage us all to behave a bit better and you get a large and merry throng at the feast.
Or that’s how I see it but not so my son, who has been asking for years why we need to have such a performance at Christmas and can’t it be just us and “not do anything”. I said that normal life is “just us, not doing anything” but he replied that that was rarely the case, that I am always doing something. Doing something seems to me to be a prerequisite of being alive, but in the debate about how to handle Christmas this year, David allied himself with Sam and declared that since my son had done my Christmas every year it was reasonable that this year I should try his.
So it is that we are joining the growing trend which will be swapping the traditional meal around the family table for the hurly-burly of a restaurant, hotel or gastro pub. We are going to the Wolseley restaurant in Piccadilly, London, for our lunch.
Around the country more people are deciding that part of what they want for their Christmas is the indulgence of somebody else doing the work, of taking time away from their own kitchen and of not having to consider how to cater for the increasing number of intolerant and faddy eaters that any large gathering now includes.
“Around the country more people are deciding that part of what they want for their Christmas is the indulgence of somebody else doing the work
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I have never previously considered going out to eat on Christmas Day and I have always felt, deep down, that there was something a little sad about the idea — that it lacked the qualities of family and feast that has us channelling the Cratchit family after Scrooge’s turkey delivery.
Quite why that should be measured in hours spent basting the turkey, laying the table and lighting the brandy on the pudding, I don’t know. But I am sure that I am not the only person who has some weird investment in this as a way of proving that all is well in our world.
It was only while at dinner with some friends, the theatre producer Robert Fox and his wife Fiona, when we learnt that Robert was taking the family to the Wolseley on December 25, that the seed was sown. It looked like a great option. It even held its own when compared with the traditional format that I was mourning. No towers of washing-up, no attempting to be a chatty and welcoming hostess to a large cast while fretting about the elaborate timetable of vegetables.
The next day I told Sam about the Foxes’ plan and for the first time his eyes lit up at a sentence that included the words “Christmas Day”. He said, “That would be fantastic”, and so, like any overindulgent mother, I set out to achieve it. Tables at the Wolseley for Christmas lunch are as sought-after as a sighting of Santa’s reindeer. But we have one.
I am still not sure what I will do with myself on Christmas Eve with no feast to prepare, or how the morning will feel with only leisure to organise, but I am looking forward to this different plan.
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It sounds as if it is going to be a great party without me having to do any of the work.
Great reasons to get out of the house on Christmas Day
SWIM
Brave souls take to the Serpentine Lake in Hyde Park, central London, while 500 are expected for a charity swim at Crooklets Beach near Bude in Cornwall at 11am. budeslsc.co.uk; serpentineswimmingclub.com
CRUISE
CityCruises is offering a sightseeing trip down the Thames with mulled wine and mince pies or a traditional lunch. £120pp with lunch or £18 without; citycruises.com
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HELP
Crisis, a charity for homeless people, is appealing for volunteers in Edinburgh, Birmingham, Newcastle, Coventry and elsewhere. crisis.org.uk
WATCH
Odeon cinemas across Britain will be open for the first time this year. Passengers and Rogue One are expected to draw large audiences. odeon.co.uk
PAUSE
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The Bodhisattva Kadampa Meditation Centre in Brighton is organising a day course, including lunch and beach walk. 10am-4pm, £25; meditateinbrighton.com
SKATE
Most ice rinks are closed on Christmas Day but the Jewish Community Centre’s in north London will be open for 50-minute sessions. £12; jw3.org.uk
SURF
An outing in the waves has become a morning tradition at beaches near Woolacombe in north Devon and Bournemouth in Dorset.
DRINK
Licensing laws mean boozers can’t open until 12:30pm but tend to fill up quickly.
SING
Cathedrals and churches are, of course, open for services, including eucharist with Archbishop Justin Welby at Canterbury Cathedral. 11am; canterbury-cathedral.org
WALK
March off the brandy butter with the compulsory family outing. Most of Britain is expected to be cloudy and about 8C: a white Christmas is unlikely.