Food: Vegetarians? Let them eat rabbit: But this one is entirely meat-free. Emily Green suggests some ways to feed the odd herbivore, while the rest of you tuck in to the turkey

IT IS Christmas Day. The turkey's in the oven and the guests are at the table. You have served the soup and are about to remove the bird so the meat can rest after roasting. There is the last-minute veg to cook and gravy to make.

As though this were not enough, however, you have to knock up something for that . . . that . . . that vegetarian. You would rather knock some sense into him or her. It is tempting to leave the picky person to forage among the broccoli and steamed carrots, but that would be somewhat unseasonal . . .

Self-sacrifice, Joan Crawford- style, is an option. You could really suffer over something fiddly and trendy-sounding: say, a replica of the BT tower. It could be constructed of potato galettes, lentil puree, a poached egg, grated truffle, a crostino or two and some olive paste. 'What, this little thing? I just whipped it up.'

Or, in a more old-fashioned vein, you could try to equal the sumptuous colour spread of the top-flight cookery books. And you could milk it for all it was worth. Your face would be a picture of concern and sympathy and pride in your token creation. You could admonish the vegetarian to 'Start]', 'Eat]', 'Don't let it go cold]' as you carved the turkey and passed plates to your kindred carnivores, proudly doling out steaming portions of wild rice, mushroom and oyster stuffing.

Except that you really rather like that vegetarian, and would feel happiest serving something you yourself found appetising. The answer is so obvious that it worries you. Could it be too modest? Hang it. You look at that lovely chunk of Appleby Cheshire on the counter. Welsh Rabbit it is.

Not rarebit, but rabbit. Granted, it is not Welsh and it's not got rabbit, but Welsh Rabbit's the name. It is, in fact, one of meaty England's most venerable and substantial vegetarian dishes.

According to John Ayto, editor of The Glutton's Glossary, the 'Welsh' was a patronising 17th- and 18th-century euphemism for the cheap or inferior; similarly, using a 'Welsh comb' meant grooming your hair with your fingers. And Welsh Rabbit mocked the family too poor to afford meat and forced to eat cheese and toast.

Mock away. Welsh Rabbit is much more than cheese on toast. Constance Spry calls it the 'English version of a fondue'. She commends a dry 'flavoury' cheddar, ale in lieu of kirsch. Here is the recipe from The Constance Spry Cookery Book by Mrs Spry and Rosemary Hume (J M Dent & Sons, pounds 20).

Constance Spry's

Welsh Rabbit

Serves 2

Ingredients: 4oz/115g dry, well-matured cheddar, double gloucester or Appleby Cheshire

1oz/28g butter

2fl oz/60ml brown ale

salt, pepper, cayenne

Two slices of toast, buttered or plain

Preparation: Thinly slice or grate the cheese. Put into a shallow saucepan or chafing dish with the butter, ale, salt and pepper. Set over a gentle heat and stir continuously until melted. Do not boil or burn. When smooth and creamy, pour over toast. Dust with cayenne and serve.

Welsh Rabbit has any number of close cousins. There is Swiss Rabbit, made with gruyere, nutmeg and cream; English Rabbit, made with red wine instead of ale; and Golden Buck is a rabbit that employs a cheese mixture enhanced by celery salt, paprika, several beaten eggs, cream and a splash of Worcestershire sauce. A non- vegetarian version uses anchovy paste spread on the toast. And the Yorkshire Rabbit can even be topped with bacon and a poached egg.

MISS PIGGY calls it quiche. Julia Child, Louisette Bertholle and Simone Beck prefer 'open-faced tart'. The London chef Stephen Bull taught himself to cook these eggy pies, whatever you call them, straight from Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Child and others (Alfred A Knopf, pounds 35). He was quickly decorated with Michelin stars.

Few things are simpler to make than quiche, and it is as suitable for vegetarians as for Michelin inspectors. My favourite is a leek quiche. To time it for Christmas dinner, blind bake the pie crust, and have the filling mixed and at room temperature. When you remove the turkey to rest it, pop in the tart. It needs 20-25 minutes at 350-375F/180-190C/gas 4-5.

Bertholle, Beck & Child's

Leek Quiche

Serves 4

Ingredients: 1lb/450g sliced white of leeks

4fl oz/118ml water

1tsp salt

4tbs butter

3 eggs

12fl oz/350ml cream

pinch nutmeg

8-inch blind baked pie crust

2oz/60g grated emmental or

gruyere

Preparation: Sweat leeks lightly in 3tbs butter. Add water and salt, and raise temperature until liquid has almost evaporated. Lower temperature and cook very slowly until leeks are tender.

Beat eggs, cream and seasonings to blend, then gradually stir in leeks. Adjust seasoning. Pour into pastry shell. Sprinkle with grated cheese. Cut up 1tbs of butter into small dots and distribute over top of tart. Bake on a medium-high shelf for about 25 minutes.

Like the versatile rabbit recipes, the beauty of quiche-making is that, once you've got the knack, you can more or less bung whatever you like into them. For the vegetarian, try sweating down chopped spinach and stirring it into the egg.

Child gives a beautiful recipe using roquefort, cream cheese (to mute its saltiness) and chives as a freshener. It would be just as good with the baby stiltons that abound at Christmas time.

Quiches are done when they have puffed out nicely, the tops are lightly browned and a knife inserted in them comes out cleanly. They sink a bit when cold but are still quite good.

I attempted cooking one from scratch in the microwave at a friend's home, and it did not go at all well. 'What is she doing?' demanded my friend's five-year-old daughter. 'Nuking some eggs,' replied her mother.

The child tells me, however, that the quiche tasted just fine.