What does a food critic cook for Christmas?

After years of practice, Jay Rayner has rules on Christmas lunch. Don’t faff over a starter; ditch most of the veg; always set fire to something

The first inquiry always comes about now, as autumn gives way to winter. “So,” the questioner asks, wet-lipped with anticipation, “what are you going to be having on the big day?” The implication is obvious. I am employed to travel the country passing judgment on restaurants both grand and less so. I look down my nose at the offerings of MasterChef contestants and then deliver a crushing verdict. Surely, therefore, Christmas lunch in my house must be magnificent; the platonic ideal of Christmas lunches to which all others must aspire, a parade of poise and ooh and ah.

I don’t blame anyone for thinking like this, because it’s what I think too. Mine really should be magnificent. It’s no accident that I’ve been a restaurant critic for two decades. I brood about what I’ll be having for dinner while eating breakfast, and daydream perfect lunch menus designed to make my guests swoon, even when I haven’t invited any. So, of course, I want my Christmas lunch to be the very best it can be. The problem is making it so.

Christmas lunch is down to the planning. It remains the only day of the year when I write a timetable

25 years of cooking Christmas lunches has taught me that nobody likes Christmas pudding apart from Richard E Grant