All I want for Christmas is some frozen food

Slow-cooking lamb for the day now seems less of a luxury, and more of a literal expression of how little there has been to do, writes Katy Brand

I think I may have finished cooking. Perhaps until next summer. I am cooked out (Getty)

I never thought the moment would come when I wanted frozen food for Christmas, but lo, it has arrived.

I think I may have finished cooking. Perhaps until next summer. I am cooked out. We are now at the rear end of year two of “all this”, and the thrill of spending all day in the kitchen making the kind of nourishing meal I always dreamed of – but never had the time to – has passed.

Slow-cooking lamb for the day now seems less of a luxury, and more of a literal expression of how little there has been to do. Yes, you look forward to the lamb and it gives you a lovely smug, cosy feeling. But is it also laughing at me a bit? In the oven? Am I losing my mind?

And yes, it’s very nice when you eat it. But then it’s gone and you have to get up the next day and start all over again, soaking dried chick peas or attempting to make an authentic ramen broth from scratch. I can’t do it anymore.

The sourdough starter has taken over the cupboard – it’s got its own agent now, judging by the phone-calls it’s making – and there’s a lovely easy loaf of white Warburton’s in waxed paper in the bread bin.

I have kitchen fatigue, is what I’m saying. I can just about stretch to a bacon sandwich, but then I’m back on the cornflakes, or granola and yoghurt for a special occasion, such as a birthday. Or Christmas. Would it be a dereliction of duty to serve granola for Christmas dinner? What if it had lovely posh bits of dark chocolate in it?

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Ok, even I know that would be a step too far. My husband feels the same, so in our house we have come up with a frozen solution and just decided to let it go – let all the expectations go, fill the freezer up with nice pastry-salmony things, and mushroom tartlets, and duck spring rolls, and even a cheese and ham crispy pancake for Boxing Day, sling them in the oven at regular intervals and eat them, punctuating each “meal” with a mince pie or a fist-full of Quality Street.

I am so excited. I might have a slice of bread and butter to calm down, if I can be bothered to find a knife.