Tradition is what you make of it. Some people celebrate Christmas with roast goose and red cabbage. Others stand by their ham. Some even go so far as to roast a turkey, as if they hadn’t had enough just four weeks earlier. But for those who don’t mind their traditions a bit more relaxed, there’s the Christmas brunch - a sociable start to the ritual of giving and receiving, and one which leaves you with more time to share the tidings of the season with loved ones. The secret to a really good brunch is to recognize that there are two competing visions: the sweet and the savory. Sweet brunch fare typically includes fruit salads, pastries, waffles, pancakes, preserves and syrup; maybe a mimosa. Savory versions (perhaps favored by those who indulged more than intended the previous evening) include every incarnation of the egg, soups, smoked meats and fish, cheeses and crackers. And an optional Bloody Mary. Coffee, of course, helps wash down either approach. I’ve found it best to offer a mix of savory and sweet. If that sounds like too much trouble, remember: Those who don’t want to cook, shop. When you go to the market for your last grocery run before Christmas, pick up a packet of smoked salmon, some extra crackers and a sack of oranges. Fortune favors those prepared. Making sure that at least one of your dishes is finger food keeps things friendly. That way those who prefer to linger by the table - say, while the ribbon and wrapping paper are flying - can happily nibble and sip. It’s worth remembering that brunch also is a state of mind: a time to graze and chat, to do things at a leisurely pace and enjoy the sense that there’s nowhere else you have to be. In that spirit, you might as well take it easy when planning brunch at home. But that doesn’t mean you can’t eat well. Any one of several strategies will work. Make most of the meal ahead of time and let the oven do all the work. Or choose a few simple recipes easily assembled that morning. And tossing together a no-cook brunch is always an appealing option. What Christmas brunch should not be is a harried dash to the stove, juggling eggs like a short-order cook, or a tedious vigil over the toaster while browning two mind-numbing slices at a time. It should not involve frenzied speculation as to where each of seven pieces of silverware should go in a place setting. Nor should it entail folding starched napkins into orchid and daffodil shapes. And whoever ends up having to hand-wash the good china, if you are so foolish as to use it, is likely to dispel the Christmas spirit faster than you can say ``Peace on Earth.’’ Keep it casual, keep it friendly, have something for everybody and buy what you don’t want to cook. And afterward, once you’ve nabbed the last piece of lox and tried on your new shearling-lined slippers, you can let somebody else cook Christmas dinner.