It goes pop . . .

'Tis the season to be jolly and fa la la your way to the shops to choose which of God's little creatures you are going to subject to indignities this year.

You haven't lived, until you've inserted most of your arm up the rear end of a turkey.

It is of vital importance that your chosen turkey be already deceased before you try this. This will save you ending up in the district court in the New Year, hearing the prosecutor say that the victim was "quietly grazing when set upon by the accused".

After hauling the turkey home, you are now ready to prepare your stuffing. Prepare lots.

My sister always does a spare baking tray of turkey, because the usual amount fails to provide for our family, which is, frankly, without restraint on Christmas Day.

She also buys spare drumsticks and wings because she believes it is undignified for siblings in their 40th and 50th years to pinch and hit each other at the dinner table.

This, apparently, is a normal scenario around any dinner table, because most turkeys have only two wings and two legs.

The sage, onion and breadcrumb version of stuffing is usual, but if you want to get inventive with citrus peel, you'll find the turkey largely uncomplaining of your creative impulse.

Please confine that creative impulse to things culinary, and do not be tempted to dress the turkey or yourself in questionable attire.

If, like me, you are an uncertain cook at the best of times, feel free to consult an expert.

My expert is Heather, a personal assistant to a chief executive and a grown-up version of a nanny to people like me who have special needs when it comes to finding their desk.

Heather doesn't believe I should be left to my own devices when preparing anything that other people will be eating, particularly food which, if not properly cooked, will cause food poisoning. Poultry falls into this category, so she has provided me with a fool-proof plan. It is to add one cup of uncooked popcorn to the stuffing mixture, and insert as normal.

The following steps are probably unnecessary for most people, but I will detail them here anyway.

After stuffing the turkey, now take out the stuffing and remove the plastic bag of giblets and other interesting parts that you should have removed earlier.

Restuff the turkey.

Rinse your hands and discover your diamond ring is no longer on your finger.

Haul the stuffing out of the turkey for the second time, remove the diamond ring from the turkey's bottom and restuff the turkey.

Rinse your diamond ring under the cold tap, making sure you have put the plug in the sink.

If you miss this step, go to the garage, find the wrench, crawl under the sink, undo the pipes and rescue the ring.

Reassemble the pipes in a fair facsimile of their previous position and mop the kitchen floor.

You are now ready to place the turkey in the pre- heated oven.

Pull up a chair and listen for popping sounds while you shell the peas.

When the turkey's backside blows the oven door open and the turkey sails across the kitchen and embeds itself in the dining room wall, it is cooked.

Couldn't be simpler.

Now turn your attention to the pudding. Unlike the turkey, the pudding does not require popcorn to signal its readiness for the table. It does, however require, that you check the water level frequently during the steaming process, so it doesn't boil dry and leave you with a pot that is glowing red.

If, despite your best efforts, it has reached this stage because you left it to its own devices while you pottered around straightening the tinsel in the other room, do not grab the handle of the pot with your bare hand.

I can attest to the joylessness of sitting in an accident-and-emergency department on Christmas Day, keeping company with those who have managed to catch a Champagne cork in their eye or get a 10-cent piece from the Christmas pudding stuck somewhere irretrievable and unmentionable.

Merry Christmas!

- © Fairfax NZ News