To you, this may mean *just* inviting the neighbours round for a competitive posh mince pie and smoked salmon blini gesture. No harm in making sure they know who’s top dog on the street: but hang on; didn’t they produce some wagu-filled Yorkshire puds from the local market last year when you went round? Yikes; back to Waitrose it is.

To us, people in hotels, restaurants and bars who work for you all year round, it means a different bunch of things. First: who’s on the roster? Do we exempt anyone who has family? Impossible. Do we give priority to those who want to go to church? Well, that’s legally non-neg, but unless you have shown some signs of devotion year-round, prepare for a raised eyebrow. Do we sigh and suck up the - extensive, I could bore on but won’t - negative side of hourly contracts and waive the ‘I have commitments’ tribe goodbye, mentally making a note that come the depths of January they might not get all the shifts they would like? You bet. So, fundamentally, our Christmas Day staff will be the full-on, committed professionals who have been here for long enough to know what comes around goes around and the fairest way of apportioning shifts is on the basis of your regular days off. Yep: the great ‘whoo hoo, it’s holibobs time’ just doesn’t exist for us in full-time hospitality, any more than that weird word: ‘weekend’.

But none of us would be doing this unless we loved it: and there is something magic about being one of a resolute, elite and thus powerful group of workers who stride into Christmas morning with the intention of making sure that our guests enjoy every second of their day, choreographed with balletic precision. Yes: come Christmas, you are getting la crème de la crème at your table, and in the kitchen.

From menus without prices, to crackers with proper gifts inside (something for the table to play with, talk about - no worthy recycled origami please), music-hall masks and tiny tablescapes with colourful flowers….this was always going to be well planned. What we can’t plan for are the guests. You’re going to be the yeast in our bread: I’m not going to stretch that metaphor to its kneaded conclusion, but you see what I mean. You are the magic ingredient in our recipe. We’ve got our own alert system for each table: we know that if there are three of you, you might be taking out a parent who you don’t see often, because you or they probably don’t live locally, and so things might need low-key attention from the start; we know that if there are 5 or 6 of you, you probably know what you’re doing - we can spot the alpha-host a mile off and make sure the rest of you get a word in. We know that if you have a child in the mix (we have no children’s menus, pricing or facilities, so it would be a bit of a statement child here) that the kid will look at the menu and, when we suggest chips instead of gratin, smile. And we know that when it’s a two or a four, you just want to kick back and let us run the show….

All is calm, all is good, until the pud. This is our long-established code orange moment: the time when alcohol kicks in, tension (if it came to the table in the first place) starts to bubble up and staff are getting tired, counting down to the reinforcements coming on. Sure: there will have been bits and bobs along the way that needed adjusting, extra portions or dishes explaining. Maybe one of you will have thrown us an unanticipated dietary ball that needed sorting with the kitchen. But the proof of the pudding….is in not only the eating but the two-way relationship between the person making your day special and the guest making that person feel it is all worth while.

Yep: Christmas Day is magic for all the obvious reasons, but a peek backstage shows just how magic happens. Have a wonderful Christmas with all of your family, friends and familiar faces at SH or where ever you are.