So. The chutneys are in the cupboard, maturing. The cranberry vodka, already ruby red, is gently steeping. The Christmas cake is snug in its tin, liberally doused in brandy, waiting to be iced. Any moment now I'm going to break out some special festive shortbreads, package them up in a tissue-paper strewn box I just happen to have to hand, and give them to colleagues while trilling about how easy it is to cater Christmas, just so long as you're organised.
That last sentence wasn't true, I'm afraid. Not least because there would be absolutely no point in packaging up shortbreads for the ever-hungry Guardian hordes, and I'm allergic to trilling. But my Christmas cake is still sitting smugly in its tin – thanks altogether less to super-organisation, and altogether more to jolly St Delia, who kindly pre-soaked my fruit, measured out the black treacle and even bagged up the flour. Without Waitrose's pre-weighed cake ingredients I'm not sure my Christmas cake would have been made at all.
But when it comes to cooking, just the mention of a possible "cheat" makes some people start frothing with crossness. Sometimes, let's be honest, with good reason: somebody should definitely have warned Delia that reaching for the frozen mashed potato and tinned mince, for instance, probably wouldn't end well. Meals that come boxed in kit form also seem unlikely to bring joy, ditto cakes.
But sometimes, surely, it's OK to take a shortcut. Take my cake: I don't have a treasured family fruitcake recipe, nor hoards of people descending on my home for a week's competitive eating at the end of the month. In my household a Christmas cake is a treat, rather than essential part of festivities. It's something that's likely to get overlooked. And thanks to Delia, it didn't. Who loses out?
Those of you who don't cook anything you haven't grown yourself from seed may wish to question the environmental credentials of such a kit. And you might have a point about Delia's packaging: when I took out the tiny packet of spices, for instance, I was more than bit ashamed, not least because all of them are sitting in my cupboard. The same went for the plain flour – which surely even a reluctant cook has. But by way of balance, I didn't end up buying a whole tin of treacle I didn't want and for the sake of a teeny spoonful, nor overbuying dried fruit – or worse, buying it but forgetting to soak it and ending up abandoning the cake. Delia's bag o'cake is not entirely unjustifiable.
Not that it is an bag o'entire cake, mind you. I needed to buy butter, eggs, orange and lemon zest, and eventually icing and marzipan separately – which is a fair old shopping list. And I did tweak the method a wee bit: the recipe card included suggests an all-in-one method, while I prefer to cream my butter and sugar first. Essentially, Delia's grab bag just makes things seem a little less daunting; a wee bit more achievable. For the first-time baker it's a helping hand of encouragement; for the capable but harassed, it gets the job done. At this time of year, cooking is less about enjoying yourself in the kitchen and more about fitting everything in.
In that spirit there's another Christmas shortcut I'm quite happy to take – and another that will doubtless have traditionalists tutting. I have never yet made my own mincemeat. My shortcrust might be handmade and crumbly, but the filling inside my mince pies will be resolutely out of a jar. Cranberry sauce, bread sauce, gravy – I will happily volunteer to making each from scratch. But mincemeat? My shoulders droop at the thought.
And without a spring in your step, what fun is slaving in the kitchen? Baking with a cob on is neither fun for the person in the kitchen, nor does it make what you produce taste any better. It's the opposite of Christmas spirit.
Which Christmas shortcuts are you happy to take, and which cheats would you never entertain? Would you rather splash out on a Heston Christmas pudding than stir one up yourself? Come on, it's safe to come out and admit it. Surely only Scrooge himself would be furious about getting a bit of help with Christmas cooking … and I bet my cake is going to taste all the sweeter for the bit of help I got with it on the way.
