St. Nicholas' Day Spritz

Day 55: The Midwinter/Christmas holiday season has officially kicked off with the baking of spritz for St.. Nicholas' Day. I make 3-5 different shapes, and although I put Sprinx on top of most of them, if I have candied cherries or fruitcake fruit, the "wreath" gets that in the center. We have a list of dangerous words here: spritz, Sprinx and "sprinkles," i.e., the Fancy Feast "gourmet" kibble Merry regards as a treat. I have to be extra careful when muttering to myself so that he doesn't misunderstand what's about to happen. In any event, the cookies will be decorated either tonight or tomorrow (probably tomorrow, because 3 PM kinda sneaked up on me today). Happy St. Nicholas' Day!

St. Nicholas' Day

Day 54: For me, the holiday season begins on St. Nicholas' Day, December 6, and it is observed by baking one of two types of cookie, usually spritz. Sometimes, I start off with sandies (aka Russian tea cakes), but they are something that I occasionally make at other times in the year. Spritz are only made for the holidays. While other people make spritz (and usually for Christmas parties), I happen to think mine are the best. Why? Because I don't skimp on those sugar sparkles. My mother used to say that a thing worth doing ws worth doing well, and I firmly believe that applies to dipping buttery, rich spritz in crystalline sugar. Go whole hog, or don't bother going! Otherwise, today also marks when I start decorating the house...but first I think I'll have a nap to sleep off all that sugar.

Magic And Mystery

Day 54: Seein' as how I already broke with tradition and made the St. Nicholas' Day cookies several days ahead of time, I chose to celebrate by putting up the Solstice Shrub today instead of on the 10th. The world could use more Light right now, both literally and metaphorically. I wasn't sure I'd get beyond erecting the tree, but by noon, all the birds were in their roosts, nestled among the boughs alongside snowflakes, icicles, a few frogs, a cat or two and the occasional sheep. Easily 80% of my ornaments are avian, probably closer to 85%. There are jays and nuthatches, goldfinches, parrots and penguins, cardinals galore, as well as dozens of purely whimsical, stylized birds but front and center is a Cockatoo representing the love of my life, gone now some twenty years though always close in my heart. His is always the first ornament to go on the tree and last to come down (unless there's a stray hiding somewhere). So many memories hang on my Solstice Shrub in caricature! Today, it shines in anticipation of the returning Light, illuminated by warm recollections of seasons past.

The Bird Tree

Day 54: It's St. Nicholas' Day, and that means it was time to put up the Christmas tree. This has become my tradition, although it was not one which carried over from my childhood. The decorations have gone through several iterations, but when I no longer had a life-partner with whom to share the holidays, birds began to dominate the boughs. Nowaways, at least 90% of my ornaments are birds, the remainder largely dedicated to other creatures from nature such as frogs, a caterpillar on a leaf, a beehive and a few sheep. To be sure, there are snowflakes and icicles as well, presented as backdrops for my avian horde. One might notice a preponderance of cockatoos and to a lesser extent parrots, nods to feathered family members long gone but no less dear for the passage of time. I do not celebrate Christmas in the traditional sense, but rather as a somewhat tardy acknowledgement of the Solstice, a festival of light and renewal, and of remembrance.

First On The Tree

Day 54: I'm off schedule this year, but at least I'm early instead of late. I don't usually put the tree up until the 10th, but with today being St. Nicholas' Day and the first batch of cookies having been baked several days ago, I decided I'd at least assemble it and string the lights. That done, the bare boughs nagged at me when I sat down to enjoy my book, so I dragged the ornaments out of the closet and set to work. The first ornament I hang is always Cocoa's, and it goes in a place of honour, front and center at eye level. Hard to believe that the dearest love of my life has been gone almost twenty years.

Getting A Jump On St. Nick

Day 52: St. Nicholas' Day (December 6) normally initiates the cookie-baking season in my kitchen, but this year I got the jump on St. Nick with a batch of premature spritz. Spritz are one of my two favourite Christmas cookies, the other known variously as Russian tea cakes, sandies or snowballs. The holidays are not fully in sway until both varieties are baked, bagged and frozen. Spritz are a bit of a pain to make, but not nearly as much so these last couple of years as previously. I invested in a trigger-operated cookie gun which spits out uniform bits of molded dough with each individual click. The secret to success lies in having the cookie sheets cold when the dough is extruded onto them; the chilled surface makes them adhere. I put my heavyweight pans in the freezer the night before, and shooting cookies was an absolute breeze the following morning. The crunch of abundant crystal sugar provides texture to the rich, buttery, almond-flavoured cookies. I was delighted to find it in colours other than red and green this year. I mean, whoever heard of a green snowflake outside of politics?

St. Nicholas' Day Greetings!

Day 65: St. Nicholas' Day was a significant event in our household when I was growing up, a foretaste of Christmas for a little girl who was trying (but not always succeeding) at being good as gold in anticipation of a visit from Santa Claus. I was too young to understand the permutations which had carried the good saint from holy man to roly-poly man, although I felt instinctively that there was some connection between the two. On one hand, Santa was a jovial and grandfatherly sort who inspired affection, while on the other, St. Nicholas was someone for whom I felt a deep respect and perhaps a little awe. You could cozy up to Santa and sit on his knee, but you would have approached Nicholas with deference and might have dropped a curtsey as you offered him your hand.

Both of these figures brought gifts. Santa had his big bag full of toys, but St. Nicholas brought candy. Santa came down the chimney at midnight when I was fast asleep. Nicholas was bolder. He came between the evening meal and bedtime, arriving and departing in clandestine haste. He seemed to show up at the moment when I least expected him, when for a second my anticipation lapsed and I was engaged by something else. I was convinced that he could read my thoughts, an ability I attributed to Santa in a much smaller degree. When my attention wandered (and what child's doesn't?), a sudden THUMP would bring me out of my reverie and send me scampering for the door, and whether front door or back was not predictable, subject to the saint's whim. There, I would find a bag of candy, but never for all the times I looked did I see footprints in the snow.

Treasure in hand, I would then rejoin my mother where she sat reading. "Look at what St. Nicholas brought me!" I'd exclaim. And when my father came back in the room, having excused himself earlier to work on a project or visit the bathroom, I would share with my parents the brightly colored ribbon candy the good saint had delivered, none the wiser until my dad passed away.

Baking Day

Day 64: Is there a more homey fragrance than that of baked goods hot from the oven? The aromas of buttery spritz cookies and nutty "birdseed bread" fill my house on this cold December day. I got a little ahead of myself with this project. I don't usually start baking until St. Nicholas' Day, but the chill in the weather wanted something to cut through its bite, if only psychologically.

To my way of thinking, baking is a spiritually uplifting occupation. It is impossible to be downhearted when creating cookies, or dismal when handling bread dough. The golden warmth of crust and crumb brighten the kitchen and the soul. When the garden lacks gaily colored flowers, let the sideboard bloom with plates of spritz dipped in crystal sugar, festive and bright, and don't let Jack Frost put a damper on your cheer!