THIS week, I’m admitting defeat, and going for the obvious; the big problem of what to do with all that food after the Christmas festivities subside.

Let’s admit it; we’re all as bad as each other. We moan about the huge queues in the supermarkets, and people overfilling their trolleys despite the shops being open pretty much all of the time, whilst at the same time stockpiling huge catering drums of Twiglets and bottles of Advocaat ourselves.

The turkey’s always way too big, there’s mountains of leftover sprouts and whose idea was it to buy that enormous ham?

And so it’s inevitable that we’ll all have rather more food knocking around for the next few weeks, and something needs to be done about it. With a little thought, you can conjure up some wonderful and enticing meals with the food you have right there.

In these straitened times, we’re all glad of a few cuttable corners, and management of the larder is one such corner that we must negotiate with skill.

When you stagger downstairs on Boxing Day and face the inevitable teetering piles of crockery and bowls of leftovers, take a breath, make a cuppa, and reflect on what you’ve got there.

The vegetables can be swiftly re-sautéed to caramelised perfection, perhaps accompanying a slice or two of Christmas ham. They can be blitzed into a satisfying soup, chunky or smooth, perhaps laced with a little Moroccan or Indian spice, or the aromatic blast of some fresh herbs.

The bread sauce can bulk up the soup and add a nice warmth. Gravy can be frozen and re-used, or added to the soups and sauces you make.

Let’s ignore the sausages wrapped in bacon. Any men in the house will have demolished those within minutes, hot or cold. It’s a genetic thing. We just do.

Dessert-wise, I’ll cover mince pies in the first article of 2013, with something a bit different.

You can use the leftover slices of Christmas pudding or cake in my basic parfait recipe (6 egg yolks and 175g sugar whisked until pale, then folded into a pint of soft-whipped cream. Just add your flavourings and freeze).

That works for all those sweets and chocolate bars, too. Any left-over After Eights can be chopped and folded into the parfait to make a fantastic mint-choc-chip dessert that you’ll wish you’d made in the first place.

But we’re dealing with the big bird here. What to do with that turkey.

The remains of a roast turkey contain much magic, and must not be trifled with.

The meat, breast, leg or thigh, makes for a vast range of terrific tasty stir-fries, curries and soups, not to mention being a brilliant sandwich helper, but beneath that meat lays the real treasure – the carcass.

This is crying out to be made into stock, and believe me, you won’t regret it one bit, for turkey makes a supercharged, intensely savoury stock that chicken can only dream of.

Those bones are superb at rendering into delicious juices, which can be bagged, frozen and revitalised later in the winter. But the meat must be dealt with sooner, and I decided to go for a twist on a classic post-Christmas turkey solution, curry.

I wanted something a little fancier, and hit upon the idea of a pithivier, the French answer to the pie. I had a little fruit left over from cake-making, so my mind leapt to thoughts of Coronation chicken, and there we were.

A lovely golden puff pastry case crammed with diced turkey, a few nuts and dried apricots, bound in a light curried velouté sauce.

In case there’s lots of spuds, carrots and parsnips left, I thought I’d add a scoop of spiced coriander-flecked root mash, and to add a little freshness and acidity, a few leaves of dark cavolo nero cabbage, though any tasty greenery will do. And that’s it from me until after the big day, so allow me to wish you all a very Merry Christmas. Novelty aprons on!

For the filling:

200ml milk

200ml strong chicken stock

40g butter

½ large onion, finely diced

40g plain flour

1 tsp curry powder (shop-bought or your preferred blend)

About 300g leftover turkey meat, diced

A handful dried apricots, chopped

A handful flaked almonds

For the pithivier:

Approx 500g puff pastry

1 fresh, free-range egg yolk

A splash of milk

For the spiced root mash:

2 large potatoes, peeled and diced

1 parsnip, peeled and diced

2 carrots, diced

½ onion, finely chopped

1 tsp curry powder or any spice melange you fancy

Approx 75g butter

A little fresh coriander

Extras:

Green vegetables (cabbage, broccoli, spinach etc.)

Method:

Firstly, make the mash by simmering the root vegetables in salted water until tender, then draining and passing through a mouli or sieve.

Sweat the onions gently in the butter until soft, then add the curry and cook through, before stirring into the mash.

Adjust seasoning and add the coriander.

For the pithivier, heat the stock and milk gently in a pan. Melt the butter in another pan, and add the onion.

Cook until soft and golden, then add the flour and curry powder. Cook this roux for a few minutes then whisk in the warm milk and stock.

The sauce will thicken quickly, so keep whisking until you have a smooth sauce.

Adjust the seasoning, adding more curry if you wish. Cool the sauce in the fridge, before adding to the diced turkey, along with the apricots and almonds.

You’ll need just enough sauce to bind the meat – too much and it will leak out of the pastry. You can always serve the rest of the velouté separately.

Roll out the pastry to about 1/4 cm thickness and cut two discs, one about 20cm in diameter and one about 25cm.

Beat the egg yolk with a splash of milk, and brush around the edge of the smaller disc.

Carefully spoon the turkey into the centre of the pastry, making it as dome-shaped as possible, then carefully lower the larger pastry disc over, pressing out any air bubbles before sealing.

Brush all over with the egg glaze, and press the edges of the pastry together using the tines of a fork.

If you wish, you can faintly score lines from the peak of the pie down to the edge, which allows the pithivier to expand better.

Place the pastry onto a floured baking tray and chill for a couple of hours.

Heat the oven to 200ºC / Gas 6. Bake the pithivier for about 25-30 minutes, or until golden and risen.

Heat the spicy root mash, and get your greens ready. Serve immediately.