Anticipation

Our first London Christmas and we are pretty organised - it helps that my sister is doing The Dinner, of course. My role is Best Supporting Brother, bringing a starter and a box of wines. We were up early this morning to shop for the starter but not early enough to avoid a queue at Mr Dove's. Twenty chilly minutes waiting outside, looking in on the array of fat chops and plump pheasants, strings of chipolatas and hunks of dark maroon beef. While other queued patiently for their turkey or goose, we were after more porcine treats and came away with more bacon than strictly necessary, a small piece of pork belly, a split trotter and some green gammon. The latter two will be turned into a Jambon Persille (the Burgundy fixation hasn't finished yet) for Christmas Day while the belly is for tonight.

It's hard to know what to cook on the 22nd and 23rd this year. It's a weekend and a holiday but you can't overdo it, not with all the feasts to come. Roast birds seem wrong, roasts full stop in fact. And anything festive or traditional feels like jumping the gun. My solution can be found in the back of the spice cupboard: star anise, ginger, chillies and the like. They will flavour the pork belly as it slowly simmers, melting the fat and the meat into one. Dark, meaty soy will add umami, colour and richness. Some bland noodles or plain rice will sit alongside with some quickly cooked bok choi.

It will be about as Christmassy as a picnic, but even with the lights on the tree and crap films on every channel, I can put off culinary Christmas for a day or two yet. Savouring the anticipation as it grows.