Nigella Recipe Pulled Pork

For me, the central Christmas feast is the least problematical meal to consider, since I cook the same thing every year: I know what I have to do; there’s nothing really to think about further. I don’t feel complacent about it, though: it still makes me excited and nervous in equal measure. But it’s the other days that need a little more careful consideration. Since I find thinking about food a pleasure in itself, this isn’t difficult. And nor, indeed, are any of the meals I make over Christmas. My cooking is never complicated or tricksy, but over this time, it’s especially important that life is made easier. Relax: I have a plan.

Since much of this time is spent exhausting oneself with Christmas shopping, wrapping (for me, every bit as nerve-jangling as late-night shopping) and related seasonal stresses, I need food I can rely on for succour, both in the kitchen and at the table.

First up: oxtail on toast. There is something so comfortingly old-fashioned about this, and since it needs to be made ahead so that the flavours deepen and gravy jellify, I make a batch, and then stash portions of this stew, aromatically Christmassy with its allspice and clementine, in the deep freeze or fridge (depending on how soon I may have to call upon it) as well as a good loaf in the bread bin, so that I may call upon it whenever a little something cosy on toast is called for – which is often at this time of the year. A little goes a long way, so even a batch isn’t as dauntingly big as it sounds. The oxtails are cooked until they flake softly away from the bones, and the scant, set liquid helps them cover the toast without making it hopelessy soggy (though that would be good, too). It’s also wonderful as a sauce for wide egg noodles or poured over soft polenta.

Slow Cooked Pulled Pork

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Second up: sweet potato macaroni cheese. When ballast is required after a Christmas party or general seasonal carousing, or to feed overexcited children after a nativity play or carol service, this is what I call upon. This, too, can be made in advance, so that a quick reheat in the oven until the macaroni cheese is golden and bubbling is all that’s needed on a tired or late night. All macaroni cheese is good – that’s a given – but this, with its sweet potato countered by the sharpness of feta and the elegant bitterness of sage (which can be left out if it would cause problems with children insistently opposed to “green bits”) is, as immodest as it inevitably sounds, the best I’ve ever made or eaten. I always have macaroni cheese and a joint of gammon on Christmas Eve, and this version is an even better partner with the sweet-salty ham.

Third up: barbecuey pork butt. This is, frankly, pulled pork by another name, and ideal for lunch or supper when you have a large group of people to feed and need to do so without losing your sanity. The pork cooks for long, slow hours in a low oven, filling the house with a gorgeously welcoming scent, and all you need to serve alongside are some soft buns, to be split open and filled with this tender, rich meat. The pork itself is cooked without its rind, but if you buy the meat from the butcher, you can ask for the rind separately and make crackling to eat over pre-dinner drinks. I always do: nothing better.

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Fourth up: drunken noodles. As the name suggests, these are just what’s needed when seasonal overindulgence has taken its tiresome toll. Even those with a very sore head can manage to soak rice noodles then toss them in a wok with enough spices to clear the very worst of hangovers. But while they offer balm to those who need it, they also make for a perfect, simple supper for those who require a culinary counterpoint to the meat-heaviness of holiday eating.

Finally: lemon pavlova. Make a great pudding, and you can bring out those cold cuts yet again without apologising for them. This is that great pudding. I make the base ahead, and then have nothing more effortful to do on the day itself than spread with lemon curd, whip up some cream to dollop on top, and toast some almonds to sprinkle over. And were you to want to make this look especially Christmassy, all you’d need to do is add a ruby scattering of pomegranate seeds before the crunch of the almonds.

It’s embarrassingly childish of me to find this name funny, but I do, and that’s why I’m keeping it. Pork butt is what Americans call pork shoulder, although my butcher says that it is more properly the blade bone part, which is why I have specified so in the ingredients. What I’ve made below, though, is essentially pulled pork, and I’m sure any part of the shoulder would do just fine.

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The real treat about this – apart from the ease of preparation and the joy of eating – is that you cook it for such a long time in a low oven, that not only does your house smell magnificent (I put this in late at night, and come down at breakfast to be heralded by it), but you don’t need to do anything when the hungry hordes arrive, except shred it. But I have also given an option for a shorter cooking time, should that make life easier.

If you have a double oven, ask the butcher to give you the scored rind too, snip it into pieces with kitchen scissors and roast in an oven preheated to 220C/gas 7 for 25 minutes, then turn them over for a final 5 minutes. Serve alongside the pork. This is very, very good squidged into baps.

Line the base and sides of a small roasting tin, just large enough to take the pork, with a double layer of foil, sit the pork in it, fat-side up, and let it come to room temperature, which takes about 40-60 minutes, depending on your fridge and the weather. When it’s almost there, heat the oven to 250C/gas 9.

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Mix the sugar, mustard and vinegar in a bowl, stir in the salt, 5-spice and hot chilli powder, then add the garlic.

When the pork is ready to go into the oven, mix the rub ingredients together again (I use a rubber spatula for this, and for smearing the pork joint) and cover the pork joint with as much as you can. The barbecuey rub may not look very appealing at this stage, but that need be of no concern. Put the smeared pork into the very hot oven and leave for 10 minutes – by which time the top will be beginning to burn in parts – then turn down the oven to 100C/gas ¼ and cook for at least 12 hours, or up to 18, tenting with foil after 14-15 hours.

Alternatively, after a 10-minute blast at 250C/gas 9, turn the heat down to 150C/gas 2 and cook for 5½-6 hours, tenting with foil after 3 hours.

Pulled Pork Sandwiches

Remove from the oven, untie, discard any bits that are too blackened to eat (though the burnt bits are my favourite) and pull to pieces with a couple of forks. Pour over some of the juice (though you might want to spoon off a little of the fat first) and serve immediately.

STORE NOTE Cool leftovers, then cover and refrigerate within 2 hours of making. Will keep in the fridge for up to 3 days. Reheat in an ovenproof dish, covered with foil – or wrap the pork in foil, if small portions – in an oven preheated to 150C/gas 2 for about 30 minutes (timing will depend on quantity) until piping hot. Add a splash of water, if needed, to prevent it from becoming too dry.

I’m just going to say it: this is the best macaroni cheese I’ve ever eaten – better than the macaroni cheese I ate as a child; better than the macaroni cheese I brought my own children up on when they were little (they don’t agree); better than any fancy restaurant macaroni cheese with white truffle or lobster; better than any macaroni cheese I have loved in my life thus far, and there have been many.

Mustard Pork Chops

I don’t feel it’s boastful to say as much, as the greatness lies not in any brilliance on my part, but in the simple tastes of the ingredients as they fuse in the heat. That’s home cooking for you.

I do rather love the way these little macaroni cheeses, with their pixie-penne, look like they’ve been made with artificially coloured, cheap squeezy cheese or out of a box, when in fact their exotic glow