I GREATLY admire people who set about the preparatory work of the season with glee and zeal Sourcing the best ingredients, patiently soaking the fruit for the cakes and puddings, making lots of delectable edible gifts for presents, encouraging delighted kids into the kitchen to make gingerbread and cinnamon biscuits and what have you. Wholly splendid, and inspiring.
And then, the brochure from Emer Murray's wonderful shop in Galway, Goya's, drops through the door, and I think to myself: perhaps sloth is, after all, virtuous. Am I going to make a better plum pudding than Ms Murray? Not on your nellie. Will my mince pies be more delectable? Not a chance. When it comes to the cake, could I make a better effort than the woman who, to my mind, shows a clean pair of heels to all other bakers in the country? You must be joking.
The real treat in ordering food by post is that it actually feels like you are giving yourself a gift, rather than just stocking the larder. Tubs of oysters, cases of wine, slender sides of salmon, smoky slices of charcuterie ready to be opened for lunch, mean that this is actually one of the great ways to shop.
And, so, I pick up the telephone, credit card in hand.