Those who indulge in the ‘infuriating genteelism’ of saying Christmas lunch must be castigated, a reader from Leicester, Mr Clifford Dunkley, tells me. Castigate them, do. But they won’t stay castigated.
In his essay, ‘Dinner Real and Reputed’, De Quincey pointed out that ‘dinner has travelled, like the hand of a clock, through every hour between 10 a.m. and 10 p.m’. By his day it was generally at six, but at 8 p.m. for a formal dinner-party. In our day, in London, some hosts won’t let us eat till after 9 p.m.
On Christmas day we still do, or think we might do, things that we do not on other days. We eat special food, sit at a table, even go to church. The main meal is without doubt the one with a roast and a pudding. Since we eat so much, no meal after it is worthy of the name — perhaps tea, or a light supper.
But because many socially aspirant people have only in the past generation got used to calling the midday meal lunch and the evening meal dinner (instead of tea), a genteel taboo has taken root against calling any midday meal dinner. It is like mistakenly using I for me in phrases such as ‘between you and me’.
My husband will expect Christmas dinner later than lunch would normally be, by which time he’ll have said, after drinking a glass, that champagne is overrated and will have reverted to whisky. Veronica will help with the white sauce, and set the table, not for lunch, but for dinner.
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