Warmth in our bellies

It's still snowy outside, so I've pulled the curtains, turned on the radio and cleared the worktop to start preparing our Christmas feast. First up, braised red cabbage with apples and onions - chop, chop, chop, grind, grind, grind (mmm - nutmeg, cloves and cinnamon, tropical warmth on every breath), but then nothing to do but luxuriate in the smell of comfort food settling down in the big red casserole into a soft slushy mess. The challenge is not eating it until everyone's round the table on the 25th - I've hidden it in an anonymous pot at the back of the fridge so no one knows it's there. Don't let on!