Hosting a Relaxed Sunday Lunch at Home

Start With a Roast That Forgives You

The secret to a relaxed Sunday lunch is choosing meat that improves with time rather than one that demands your full attention at the last minute. A rolled shoulder of lamb, a pork belly scored and rubbed with fennel seed, or a whole chicken brined overnight will all sit happily while you pour yourself a glass of something cold. These cuts are generous, forgiving and, crucially, taste better for a long, slow cook than they do for a precise one.

What you want to avoid is anything that punishes a five-minute delay. Fillet of beef, a pink leg of lamb and delicate fish all need you at the oven door at exactly the right moment. Save those for a table of two. For a Sunday with six or eight around it, choose the joint that can be cooked through and rested without anxiety, then carved in thick, unapologetic slices.

Cook It Ahead and Reheat With Confidence

There is no law that says a roast must come out of the oven minutes before it reaches the table. Cooking the main event in the morning, or even the day before, is the single biggest favour you can do yourself.

For a shoulder of lamb, season it well, sit it on a bed of halved onions and a few bay leaves, add a splash of water and cook it covered at 150°C (Gas Mark 2) for four to five hours, until the meat gives way under a spoon. Let it cool in its own juices, then refrigerate. On the day, reheat it covered with foil at 160°C (Gas Mark 3) for forty minutes or so, basting once with the juices.

• Pork belly: roast uncovered at 160°C for three hours, then blast at 220°C for twenty minutes to crisp the crackling. Reheat gently, covered, so the skin stays brittle.
• Chicken: roast as normal, cool completely, then reheat jointed in a covered dish with a little stock. It will be every bit as moist.
• Yorkshire pudding batter: whisk it on Saturday night and leave it in the fridge. Cold, rested batter puffs far better than one made in a hurry.
• Roast potatoes: parboil and roughen them in the pan on Saturday, keep them covered, then roast them properly on the day.

Build a Timetable That Leaves You Free at One

Write the plan down. A relaxed host is simply a host who knows what happens next, and a scrap of paper on the fridge does more for your composure than any amount of natural charm.

On Saturday, make the pudding, trim and prepare the vegetables, and set the table. On Sunday, put the joint in early, then give yourself a clear hour before guests arrive to shower, change and open the wine. Aim to have everything except the gravy, the potatoes and the greens finished by the time the doorbell rings. Gravy can be made from the defatted roasting juices, thickened with a little flour or cornflour, and kept warm in a jug over a pan of simmering water. Two jugs, in fact — one plain, one with a splash of redcurrant jelly or a spoon of mustard stirred through.

Set a Table You Don't Have to Fuss Over

A Sunday table should look as though it has always been there. A plain linen cloth, even a slightly rumpled one, beats elaborate centrepieces every time. Keep flowers low so people can see each other, use candles that stay unlit until the pudding, and put out more water than you think you need.

• Warm the plates in a low oven — it costs nothing and makes an enormous difference.
• Put salt, pepper and mustard on the table, not on the sideboard. People hate asking.
• Use glasses that will take both water and wine, so nobody has to hunt for a second one.
• Skip the place cards. Seat people next to someone they don't already know, and let it sort itself out.

Put Everything on the Sideboard and Let Them Serve Themselves

The most generous thing you can do as a host is to stop hovering. Lay the carved meat on a warm platter, arrange the potatoes, the greens, the carrots and the swede alongside it, and let guests help themselves in whatever order and quantity they please. Someone will take too much crackling. Let them.

Keep the table itself clear apart from the plates, the bread and the drinks. This means nobody is passing heavy dishes over anyone's head, and you are not trapped at one end of the table carving while your own lunch goes cold. A bowl of apple sauce, a jug of bread sauce and a pot of horseradish complete the picture. If a guest wants ketchup, they can have ketchup, and nobody needs to comment on it.

Keep Pudding Simple and the Goodbye Easy

Pudding should be made in advance and served without ceremony. An apple crumble assembled on Saturday and baked while you eat the main course, a lemon posset set in small glasses, or a bowl of poached pears with clotted cream all fit the mood. Serve it at the table with a pot of tea or coffee and let the conversation wander.

When it is time for people to go, let them go. Do not insist on one more cup or start clearing plates with a clatter. A good Sunday lunch ends when the last guest stretches, thanks you properly, and heads for the door. You will have fed eight people well, and you will still have the evening to yourself.