I’m not going to make one of these TV Christmas recipes; I’m just here to meditate TV and radio

IIf the run up to Christmas seems a bit chaotic, there’s always a cozy corner of the TV schedule where nothing but wonderful, cheerful and cheerful things happen. By that I mean the cooking channels, which are currently being completely rebooted. Nigel Slater’s 12 Tastes of Christmas, anyone? That episode of Fanny Craddock at Christmas when she folds ground beef into an omelette? I challenge anyone to watch my favorite movie, 2017’s Nigella sativa: At My Table, a Christmas Special, and feel anything but a Christmas hangover. Or you’re just drunk, considering Nigella’s first recipe is a massive Christmas vodka martini containing vodka, raspberry liqueur, and enough white creme de cocoa to stun a reindeer. Later, she makes brandy and salted caramel ice cream and mixes some red cabbage with cranberries. sky.

However, I won’t be making one of these recipes; I’m just here to meditate. Behold my Christmas angel, all resplendent in elegant country dress and strutting around her cottage filled with fairy lights (although it’s actually a TV set in Elstree with a BBC snow machine cranked up to 11). Oh, poached eggs and duck with orange? I have to make those! (Spoiler: I won’t.)

But whether we make these Christmas recipes or not, all these festive specials from Nigella, Jamie, Nigel, Keith and Fanny are excellent service for stressed-out home cooks. In Capital Floyd: Christmas Specials from 2000, Keith wasn’t remotely stressed out by a 12-pound turkey with giblets or a gravlax appetizer for nine. Yes, it may be because he’s been hunting Chateau Lafite Rothschild since 9 a.m., but no one could accuse our man Floyd of an ounce of celebratory disorder. Meanwhile, Tom Kerridge’s Christmas Cook is preparing another treat as he rolls his own Kiev turkey with sage butter and apple cider and makes some Christmas ice cream. Tom doesn’t try too hard, and it’s clear that all of this is totally doable with a little forethought, a good potato peeler and some elbow strength! He says it’s all in the planning.

Obviously the elephant draped over the decorations in all these rooms – which is never mentioned – is that all of these Christmas specials were planned in advance. In fact, it was recorded throughout the month of April, with a team of at least 25 researchers, producers, home economists, food stylists and lighting technicians all working for weeks to make sure Nigella Hut is so stunningly seasonal that we close our eyes as we watch the woman whip meringues into the snowy peaks.

And that’s the real power of Christmas food TV. You can do it all yourself, suggests Rick Stein in Christmas on the Cornish in 2010 while wrestling with a goose in the Aga, and even make time to wander the streets of Port Isaac and liaise with a group of merry hunters. Except Rick didn’t do any of this alone; Instead, one poor researcher spent weeks tearing out her hair trying to source organic goose, festive lanterns and salty sea dogs suitable for singing carols in the middle of spring.

The magic is in the pretense – we don’t mind the nature of these offers, not least because they provide a valuable advisory service in a very stressful time. Has your child had a part in the barn in a nativity play and you’ve been asked to provide a costume? Is a mince pie dance scheduled at your company, and is the theme of the dress “wacky”? Do you bravely accept that your Christmas will actually be a 650-mile round trip on various British motorways to comfort your parents and eat mostly at the Wild Bean Café?

Are you perhaps suffering from a dearth of Christmas spirit? In which case, have you thought about going to bed with a hot water bottle, a new box of stolen Waitrose chips and a laptop playing Nigella’s Amsterdam Christmas song as our heroine, doing God’s work, is sent to the Dutch capital to blindly swear that she loves Scandinavian-themed Christmas markets? Rarely has a single woman looked so content in a licorice shop, making special cakes in the shape of townhouses, or eating fruit bread from a fake wooden kiosk. “Amsterdam is the Venice of the North,” Nigella tells us with all seriousness, as if no one had said it before. But we don’t care, because there’s a lavish no-bake cake and a gingerbread layer cake that’ll need a cold heart like a snowman who doesn’t like it.

These festive TV cooking shows don’t remotely prepare us for Christmas, but for me they are even better than Christmas itself. All the glam, none of the stress. My oven is still off, my shopping list is still unchecked, but my heart is already full to bursting.