Crowded house: easy meals to warm a festive night, from hearty soup to sausage rolls

We’ve spent the last few Christmases with my brother and his family in Canterbury, a city famous for many reasons, including being the birthplace of the playwright Christopher Marlowe. Canterbury also has an audacious modern theatre called the Marlowe, and every December it produces what is (in my completely biased opinion) the greatest pantomime, in which my brother is the greatest pantomime dame. Oh no he isn’t! Oh yes he is! Watching a matinee, while passing the box of Maltesers back and forth along our family row of seats, is a euphoric-hysterical moment of Christmas. Then the cold December air hits our hot faces when we cross the city on our way home for something to eat.

Which brings us to my sister-in-law’s post-pantomime suppers. They meet several criteria: can be made in advance and sit for several hours; will reheat or cook quickly; and will warm and please 10 people aged three to 83. Kate has made various good things over the years, but my favourite by far was the time we arrived home to a huge pan of creamy carrot soup and a large tray of puff pastry sausage rolls. While shoes were kicked off, coats thrown and three piles – bowls, spoons and paper napkins – put on the counter (it was 23 December, and there was more than enough table laying ahead), Kate reheated the soup and the rolls.

I remember so clearly how good it all was; the easy rhythm, thanks to Kate’s preparation; the smells that filled the kitchen; all of us sitting, spoon in one hand, hot sausage roll in the other, stray flakes of puff pastry drifting on to jumpers. The right food at the right time. Ever since, soup and sausages has become an answer to the question: “What can be made in advance, cooked quickly and please many?” Of course, the soup could be any kind – Thomasina Miers’ potato and leek (pictured top), maybe, or my minestrone or pasta and tinned chickpeas (add pasta when you are reheating). Alternatively, one of Nigel Slater’s wonderful recipes: black-eyed bean, rosemary and kale soup, or sprout tops and stilton, leeks and lentils. The sausage rolls could be vegetarian, or stuffed with walnut, apple and sage.

That same trip, on Christmas Eve, our meal had an even easier rhythm. Because we had ordered a fish pie from a local chef, a magnificent and luxurious thing (rather like this, or this) that needed only to be baked until the edges bubbled while we boiled and buttered some frozen peas. Another option for an easy entertaining pie for a crowd is a shepherd’s pie, of course, or a lentil and mushroom one, also requiring only boiled peas. Another is Ottolenghi’s bkeila, potato and butter bean stew, which I am sure gets even better after a pantomime-length rest and can be served with bread or instant couscous. Alternatively, roast ham and a pan of red cabbage is a dream meal that can be made in advance and waits patiently until you are ready. And my final suggestion is another idea from Kate, which is big bowls of (undressed) tabbouleh and cabbage salad, and then, when you get back from the pantomime (walk, concert, pub, church), warm flatbreads, dress salads, dry halloumi and stuff. And for pudding, on the 27th, or 28th, or 29th? Surely there are more than enough sweet things around and behind you to satisfy everyone, but maybe get a bag of clementines and a box or two of Maltesers to be sure. Happy holidays!

What I’m reading | Jill Norman is one of our greatest food editors and food writers, so her new book, The English Table, is not only a reason for celebration, but a celebration of England’s culinary history. Moving nimbly through the ages and centuries, Jill uses historical and classic cookbooks to tell an engaging, fascinating and often amusing story of English food, while appealing and useful recipes invite us to taste both past and present.

What I watched | The Leopard, Luchino Visconti’s 1963 film adaptation of Giuseppe Tomasi’s book, in which Burt Lancaster plays the enigmatic Prince of Salina in 1860, threatened by the new wave of republicanism. As film critic Peter Bradshaw once noted, it’s a “rich and gorgeous film, crowned with a magnificent, extended ballroom scene”. Also: a fabulous feast.

In the cupboard | Despite writing the line myself, I hate being told to “always have a packet of X in the cupboard because they are useful”. The thing is, vacuum-packed chestnuts are annoyingly, fantastically useful. For stuffing, obviously, or sausage rolls, but also with brussels sprouts and bacon, my red cabbage pie, chestnut and chickpea soup (another one for the soup and sausage night), or quick and divine chestnut, chocolate and prune cake.