Merry Christmas!

This diminutive snowy nineteenth century oil painting hangs in our hallway 

and is trimmed in festive holly

Photo: Chronica Domus

I have always taken great pleasure in snowy scenes of winter and although it is not exactly snowy where my family and I are spending the Christmas and New Year holidays, it is still rather cold.  Burrr.

I would like to wish you and yours the merriest of Christmases, wherever you might find yourself today, and a very happy and healthy New Year.

Normal posting will resume in early January.  I do hope you'll come back then to share in my adventures.

A Christmas Tree of Saccharine Fantasies

Photo: Chronica Domus

For those of us who relish the decorating of our Christmas trees with keenest anticipation, there is something rather magical about unwrapping fragile ornaments which have been in hiding for the better part of a year, or longer as is often the case in my household.  The element of surprise always surfaces upon finding these cherished objects buried in layers of tissue paper that one had entirely forgotten were even owned.  The process of reacquainting oneself with these bewitching baubles is all part of the childlike spirit of the season.  It never fails but to delight and amuse me.

Photo: Chronica Domus

Over the many years I have collected vintage glass ornaments, I don't think I have ever decorated the tree the same way twice.  I began collecting whatever I could find in terms of color and shape, as long as the patina of age was evident upon their dulled surfaces. Finding these ornaments became somewhat of a minor sport which, I'll admit, is as sporty as I'll ever get.  I soon honed my attentions on collecting the futuristic geometrical shapes so popular in the early decades of the twentieth century, along with naturalistic pine cone, nut, berry, and fruit forms.

Bacchus would surely approve of this little beauty
Photo: Chronica Domus

Hmmm... not quite sure what to make of this one since Ms. Kardashian infamously attempted to break the internet
Photo: Chronica Domus

Ah, that's better ... an enchanting spun cotton sugar plum encrusted with crushed glass

Photo: Chronica Domus

Photo: Chronica Domus

The colors chosen to decorate our tree each year depend upon the room in which it will reside.  When our drawing room walls were painted pale green, an evergreen tree was often dressed in shades of turquoise blue and silver.  It suited the room and its decoration whereas a more traditional color scheme did not.

Photo: Chronica Domus

This year, our diminutive ivory goose feather tree is set against the dark walls of our dining room.  A zesty palette of coppery orange, raspberry, silver, gold, and pale pink seemed most appropriate. Whimsical visions of saccharine sherbets and magical sugar plums materialized before my eyes as I carefully wired more and more of the fragile ornaments to the feathery boughs. Tchaikovsky's "Dance of The Sugar Plum Fairy" filled my head making me want to leap about like a clumsy over-grown ballerina. Not a sight to behold I can assure you.

Stepping back to admire the finished tree, I was utterly enchanted at the outcome.  My daughter declared it "the prettiest tree we've ever had".  Of course, I love to tease her a little and remind her that she says the same thing each and every year.

The drum-shaped base of the feather tree reminded me of those old-fashioned stripey cardboard drums one finds for sale at Fortnums, filled with champagne truffles, my favorites. With that in mind, I set about gussying up the plain base with bands of vintage silvery grey silk ribbon and another of raspberry grosgrain.  I think it looks rather splendid and befitting of a sugary tree which might not seem so out of place in the Land of The Sweets.

Photo: Chronica Domus

You will have noticed there are no presents beneath it, but I urge you to look again.  You might just spy them second time around.  Secreted away in beguiling little cardboard confectionery containers in the form of silver walnuts and orange foil wrapped snowballs, are diminutive gifts.  Made in Western Germany when it existed, the walnut and snowball containers conceal sweet treats for family and friends to enjoy over the duration of the holidays.

Photo: Chronica Domus

I think my daughter might just be right. This may indeed be the prettiest tree we have ever decorated.

Miss Pole's Yuletide Decorating Philosophy

Several years ago while watching the British period drama Cranford, I was struck by the wisdom of Miss Octavia Pole, the show's Chief Gossipmonger About Town and General Know-It-All.  She uttered the following words of wisdom while presiding over the tarting up of the house for Christmas, "...that is enough! One can be so over zealous with one's Yuletide decorations".

The bright hues of seasonal citrus inject a welcome dash of festive color to the dining room table in an image I snapped back in December 2013

Photo: Chronica Domus

Miss Pole is a woman after my own heart for I believe that our homes are not retail establishments and should not be decorated as such.  Not every surface need be covered in gewgaws, with displays to rival those found in department store windows.

Miss Octavia Pole, second from the right, is a woman of Yuletide wisdom

Source

A little sparkle here, a little color there, a few snippets of greenery placed atop picture frames and looking glasses and, well, that's usually about the extent of it for us. Restraint can travel very far.

Photo: Chronica Domus

Oh, and a tree, of course. One year it might be a towering evergreen, another a tabletop goose feather tree.  To some, Miss Pole's Yuletide decorating philosophy may sound a little spartan and somewhat under-decorated but to us, it feels just right.

This year the kitchen's hanging wall shelf got into the act (did I go too far I wonder, Miss Pole?)

Photo: Chronica Domus

Placing greenery atop the looking glasses and picture frames is an English tradition I uphold to this day

Photo: Chronica Domus

I extend Miss Pole's words of wisdom to the exterior of the house too. Simple homemade wreaths hang upon the doors, and occasionally when the mood strikes, twinkling white lights are draped over the boxwood hedge. I say occasionally as we do not have an external power source. Running an electrical cord from the front of the house, all the way along the side, and in through an upstairs window left ajar to seek out a power outlet can become a bit of a production.  A production, I might add, that this particular year I'm not apt to indulge.  I am more than happy to leave the flashing light shows at the Vegas strip (if only my neighbors would read this blog), and those inflatable lawn blow-up thingies to, well ...perhaps I shouldn't say.

I could not bear to relegate the beautiful sneeze-inducing incense cedar, left over from wreath making last week, to the compost bin and so it now sits upon the mantelshelf looking rather pretty
Photo: Chronica Domus

On the whole, I think Miss Octavia Pole would approve were she to pop in for a pot of tea.  On the other hand, I'm not quite sure what she'd have to say about these peculiar little fellows:

Photo: Chronica Domus

Do you subscribe to Miss Pole's Yuletide decorating philosophy of restraint, or do you find yourself getting a little carried away with your festive flourishes?

Wreaths: The Season's Calling Card

Photo: Chronica Domus

There is nothing like a wreath made with freshly clipped greenery to announce the pending arrival of upcoming holiday festivities.  I like to look upon this humble decoration as an official calling card of the season. Once espied upon neighborhood doors, I know unequivocally it is time to get my act together and begin the decoration of my own abode.

This past Saturday, I did just that.  I think the cooler weather has helped set the mood around here. We are experiencing the coldest December in recent memory, just as it should be I feel.  In milder years, I have a far more difficult time psychologically preparing for Christmas so the recent rains and cold snap have reinvigorated the spirits and bolstered my resolve to get things done.  In fact, it has been such a profitable weekend that I have somehow managed to decorate the Christmas tree as well, a personal best so early in December.

As I was determined to bedeck my door with a wreath by day's end, I set about looking for suitable greenery and then settling upon an appropriate shape.  Yes, a shape.  Now, as you might have already guessed, I am an unapologetic traditionalist when it comes to most things.  I do, however, like to put a little creative spin on matters whenever the mood strikes, and ramp up the fun, especially so around Christmastime.

Decisions, decisions, decisions: round, square, oval, or rectangular, that is the question

Photo: Chronica Domus

An expeditious visit to the San Francisco Flower Market early on Saturday morning provided me with the basics.  I fell head-over-heels in love with a beautiful wreath I had seen for sale at one of the flower seller's stalls which provided the inspiration I needed to make my own.  The item in question was a traditional circular wreath, made of the freshest mixed foliage, and was, shall we say, for sale at a king's ransom, at least as compared to the more prevalent plain-Jane spruce and fir varieties.  Not to worry though, as fortunately for me, I enjoy the process of making wreaths, a handy little skill that was taught to me by my friend Sue when I first moved to California. I remember Sue taking me to her mother's house in Burlingame, where we collected clippings from the towering Redwood tree in the garden.  Sue taught me to make small bundles from the clippings and wire them to a frame she had jerry-rigged from a wire coat hanger.  I clapped with delight as I stood back and admired our handiwork, an uncomplicated and beguiling natural decoration.  Sue had unraveled the mysteries of wreath making and it really wasn't all that complicated.  I've been making them annually ever since.

A paddle of 28 gauge green floral wire, fresh greenery, and a metal wreath form and soon you too will have a beautiful wreath to hang upon your door

Photo: Chronica Domus

I purchased two small bunches of Calocedus decurrens, commonly known as incense cedar, and a gigantic bough of Picea pungens or blue spruce, all for a fraction of the cost of the pre-made wreath I had admired so much.  To that I added clippings of bright green Arborvitae from my own garden.

The wreath coming along nicely

Photo: Chronica Domus

Upon my return home, I set to work clipping the greenery into small pieces of about three or four inches in length, gathering them into little bundles, and wiring them to the frame as I went along. The process of construction progresses rather swiftly this way.  The fresh woodsy aromas of the spruce and cedar which fill the air are so evocative of the season, something I enjoy immensely.  Sadly, I believe I might have a slight allergy to the beautiful golden seeded cedar for I found myself sneezing countless times by the conclusion of my project.  I was beginning to think that I had been afflicted with a dreaded cold, the last thing one needs at this busy time of year. Thank goodness the two wreaths I constructed will be hanging on the outside of the house and not inside.  Ah well, all the commotion of the sneezing fit is just a small price to pay for the finished results I think.

The front door wreath hangs in place

Photo: Chronica Domus

Reflective glass makes photographing the front door quite a challenge so here I have photographed it opened into the entry vestibule

Photo: Chronica Domus

Oh no, what's this?  Muddy evidence of the nightly peep show as sociable little raccoons 

peer through the glazing of the front door

Photo: Chronica Domus 

In a little over an hour, I had constructed a simple rectangular evergreen wreath for the front door, and a square one for the side entrance door at the back of the house.  I really like the unconventional shapes I selected this year and feel they compliment the angular design lines of both doors.  What do you think?

Photo: Chronica Domus

Unadorned by bows and ribbons, I think both wreaths reflect the simple beauty found in nature, a beauty which is hard to improve upon.  I hope you like them as much as I. Now that the wreaths are in place, I can focus my attentions on adorning the inside of the house with the remainder of the blue spruce and arborvitae.  Into the compost goes the incense cedar though.

Tell me, do you bedeck your doors or windows with wreaths at this special time of year?

A Visit To Sutter Creek

Photo: Chronica Domus

One of the things we did over the long Thanksgiving weekend, aside from the expected feasting, was to get away for a short visit to California's gold country. Hopping into the family motor on a very chilly Saturday morning, we made the two hour journey north-east. We traveled highways and byways, then through smaller winding roads lined with nut groves and fruit orchards until we reached our destination, the heart of the Sierra mountain foothills.

Sutter Creek, known as the "Jewel of the Mother Lode", is a small town that sprang up in the mid-nineteenth century from the madness that became the California Gold Rush. It is located in Amador County and aside from its storied gold mining fame, the area is known for its thriving wine-making industry. Vineyards abound in the tranquil surrounds of Sutter Creek and the other small gold mining towns which makes visiting the area a real treat.

A view of a vineyard that I snapped from the moving car on our journey to gold country

Photo: Chronica Domus

As it was Small Business Saturday, the antithesis of the ghastly Black Friday phenomenon, and we not only enjoy but encourage supporting smaller retail establishments whenever the opportunity arises, we dutifully played our role as consumers.  Popping into the numerous antiques stores along the main drag, we found a few treasures to take home.  A little vintage glass ornament for this year's Christmas tree, a small American yellow ware bowl, and a useful and serviceable English ironstone platter for the kitchen.  All were priced very reasonably.

Photo: Chronica Domus

One of my favorite shops in Sutter Creek is The Antique Gardener, which stocks a charming pastiche of vintage, antique, and new items for the house and garden, as well as plants, seeds, pots, and gifts.  I needed to purchase some greetings cards and stocked up from their nice selection.

The festive offerings include a selection of Christmas cacti and some enormous
sugar pine cones

Photo: Chronica Domus

A beautiful Silver Tip Christmas tree holds center stage in one of the rooms of
The Antique Gardener

Photo: Chronica Domus

A collection of sturdy vintage garden tools for sale
(doesn't everyone need a pitchfork?)

Photo: Chronica Domus

Straw shopping bags, an attractive way to bag one's purchases

Photo: Chronica Domus

Unlike San Francisco, Sutter Creek looked as though it was in the full grip of autumn's glory. Blazing color enveloped every deciduous tree in town, and alongside their evergreen companions, made for a very picturesque scene.

What a magnificent autumnal display of color

Photo: Chronica Domus

Photo: Chronica Domus

No doubt the leaves will all be gone within a few weeks.  We noticed that snow had already settled upon the distant peaks of the Sierras as we drove into town. Perhaps all the talk we are hearing of a wet winter will actually materialize, fingers crossed.

Everywhere one looks, one is reminded that this is an old town, at least by California's standards.

A relic of another era, the town's water pump situated by a trough that once refreshed thirsty horses

Photo: Chronica Domus

Even modern vehicles were not so new

Photo: Chronica Domus

Sutter Creek's visitors will enjoy viewing the varied architecture that stretches back to the very beginnings of the town's history.  Local stone, brick, and wood have held up rather well over the ensuing years.

Brick buildings are a rarity in an area known for shakin' and quakin'

Photo: Chronica Domus

Stone buildings are a common sight along Main Street

Photo: Chronica Domus 

The white steeple of the town's church, standing proud since 1862

Photo: Chronica Domus

Moseying in and out of the various buildings along Main Street, we were delighted to have discovered the local distillery. Now, can you even imagine a wild west town without one to keep the local saloon bar flowing?  Once inside, we discovered an array of handsomely labeled spirits bottles, including these lovely examples:

Photo: Chronica Domus

I'm assuming this one's pretty fiery

Photo: Chronica Domus

With all this talk of the local sauce, we decided to investigate what in town constitutes "good eatin". We soon stumbled upon the restaurant at the historic Hotel Sutter and made a bee line for a table where we heartily tucked into a toothsome and filling early dinner.  Of course, we were in the heart of the other wine country (yes, how fortunate to have not one but two wine regions so close to home), and made a point of sampling the excellent area wines.

Photo: Chronica Domus

Our visit to Sutter Creek provided us with a splendid and relaxing little getaway, an opportunity to enjoy the crisp late-autumn air of the surrounding foothills, and allowed us to walk off some of that Thanksgiving feast we devoured a few days earlier.

If you find yourself in the environs of San Francisco, please do consider a trip further north into gold country, and especially to Sutter Creek for a little glimpse of California's famed wild west.

Thanksgiving-lite

Photo: Chronica Domus

Through a concatenation of circumstances, this is the first year I can recall that we are to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday en famille, at home, just the three of us.  I am calling it Thanksgiving-lite.  Ahead lies a very busy social weekend so we have deliberately chosen to keep the day uncomplicated and low-key.  We will share a cozy late-afternoon fireside dinner in the drawing room, seated around the small English Regency Pembroke table that usually resides against the wall in the dining room.  I did say it would be cozy.  Such useful occasional tables are among the most versatile pieces of furniture ever invented.  Easily movable, thanks to brass casters, and expandable (drop-leaf) design, they are excellent tables at which to dine in the smallest of spaces.

We are at heart social creatures, and although not entertaining the usual crowd of waifs and strays, this Thanksgiving day, we are still planning a little fun later in the evening. We will enjoy the welcomed companionship of our dear friends Harvey and Jeannette over desserts, coffee, and postprandial drinks.  I have baked a sinfully delicious spiced pumpkin cheesecake, an apple pie, and of course, a traditional pumpkin pie.

Waiting in the wings, dessert too will be moved into the drawing room this evening 

in time for our guests' arrival

Photo: Chronica Domus

As I look back over the year, I find myself being thankful for a veritable cornucopia of simple pleasures. Most of all I am thankful for my family and friends, their health, and for the joy they bring into my life.  I am a richer person for it.  Oh, and how could I have almost forgotten to mention my dear beloved Mavro, another year older and slower, but still reveling in his golden years.

I am thankful to you too, my loyal readers, and wish you all a joyous Thanksgiving.

Photo: Chronica Domus

What do you have planned in celebration of today, and most importantly what are you thankful for this Thanksgiving day?

Possibly The Best Cranberry Sauce Ever

Black Mission figs and fragrant rosemary are what make this cranberry sauce recipe such a smash hit

Photo: Chronica Domus

I've never quite understood the need to serve cranberry sauce with turkey.  However, food traditions are hard to break, especially when one is trying one's best as a hostess to adhere to long-established Thanksgiving fare which is, after all, part and parcel of the holiday.

In England, turkey is the traditional meat of choice for the majority of households on Christmas day (goose a close second).  I only ever recall the presence of cranberry sauce at table in the years we were to spend Christmas day at my uncle and aunt's house.  My aunt was an excellent cook, a real powerhouse that would whip up a storm for a crowd with little fuss and with all the execution of a military exercise.  She made everything from scratch except, that is, the cranberry sauce.  The solid red unidentifiable canned mass that was presented on a plate was so dense it could actually be sliced. Aside from the color, I don't think anyone would actually be able to guess there were real cranberries in that "sauce" (isn't sauce supposed to be somewhat runny by nature?).  No wonder the stuff never made an appearance at my own parents' table.  The last time I celebrated Christmas at the home of my uncle and aunt, I noticed an upgrade had come about.  The cranberry sauce came out of a jar, which to my eye looked infinitely more appealing than its canned cousin.  Yet, I was unable to bring myself to sample it.

It was not until I started cooking Thanksgiving dinner for my own family and friends here in America that I realized cranberry sauce is considered a staple, and fully expected to make an appearance on the big day as much as pumpkin pie.  What was a girl to do?  Would I crumble and bring myself to purchase a can of the gelatinous goop passed off as cranberry sauce?

Mulling things over for all but a few seconds, I decided the answer was a resounding no.  Absolutely not!  I was happy to give the can the cold shoulder at my table, thank you very much!  You see, it was through the thoughtful act of a friend that passed along her old copies of  Bon Appétit magazine that I long ago unearthed the best recipe (possibly) in the world for home cooked cranberry sauce.

I was chuffed to bits to discover that the sauce was really rather simple to make, requiring little output for the result, and it could be made up to a week in advance when one's kitchen is still relatively quiet as compared to the frenzy of activity leading up to Thanksgiving.  Today, the recipe is published electronically, here, if you too wish to give the can the boot and make your sauce from scratch.

The ingredients simmering away prior to the cranberries being added
(warning: your kitchen is about to be enveloped in a heavenly aroma!)

Photo: Chronica Domus

The addition of figs, fresh rosemary, and an unexpected dash of black pepper are what make this version of cranberry sauce so memorable.  You might very well think the combination is an odd one, but together with the ruby port wine (I've used both ruby and reserve port depending on what I had on hand), and an aged viscous balsamic vinegar, you are assured of a winner.

Fresh cranberries popping in the sauce pan

Photo: Chronica Domus

The cranberries are cooked a few minutes longer than the recipe suggests which insures that all the berries have broken down

Photo: Chronica Domus

The finished cranberry sauce glistens in its Anglo-Irish cut glass bowl

Photo: Chronica domus

Although those of your fortunate guests who expect cranberry sauce to be served alongside their turkey and trimmings will rave about its flavor, it is by no means my favorite use of the sauce.  No, for that I turn to dessert.

An early-nineteenth century syllabub glass holds the icy fruity treat

Photo: Chronica Domus

You see, a smattering of this delightfully fruity stuff, warmed in a pan just before serving, makes an incredible topping for a dollop or two of vanilla ice cream.  The tart fruity sauce really pairs well with the creaminess of the ice cream, and is a big winner each time I serve it for dessert around the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. Besides, it is a most delicious solution of what to do with the inevitable leftover sauce (the recipe yields just over three cups).

Please do venture forth into your kitchen over the next week and make a batch of this memorable version of cranberry sauce.  I'm certain your guests will thank you for it.

Does cranberry sauce make an appearance at your Thanksgiving table and if so, is it homemade or canned?