Lang’s calendar was certainly the basis of our modern Advent calendars. His first efforts were made up of twenty-four tiny, colored pictures that had to be stuck onto a piece of cardboard. In the years to come, however, he was to introduce the doors that are so integral to Advent calendars today.
During the Second World War, the manufacture of Advent calendars ceased, as cardboard was rationed. However, once the war was over, the firm of Richard Sellmer Verlag began producing them once more, and was almost wholly responsible for their widespread popularity.
Although it might seem like a more recent addition, Advent calendars replete with chocolate treats have actually been around for at least half a century, and were certainly available by 1958. Advent calendars are no longer made only of card either. Cloth versions, with pockets in place of doors to open, are popular, as are strings of stockings which have to be filled with toys and gifts for the child by a benevolent parent. And then there are the true twenty-first-century Advent calendars that can be “opened” and viewed online.
However, in Germany, the spiritual home of the Advent calendar, certain towns go that extra mile. The Rathaus of Gengenbach, a town located within Germany’s Black Forest, is turned into a gigantic Advent calendar every year, thanks to the fact that it conveniently has twenty-four main windows. Starting on the evening of November 30, each of these windows is unveiled in turn to reveal a festive scene. In the town of Reith, each of the twenty-four windows is actually located in a different building and collectively referred to as the town’s walking Advent calendar, while in Dresden the city’s Advent calendar is constructed at the site of its Christmas market, in the Striezelmarkt, in the form of a fairytale castle.
WHY ARE STOCKINGS HUNG UP ON CHRISTMAS EVE?
It has long been the practice that on Christmas Eve, children (and sometimes optimistic adults) hang stockings by the fire, or at the foot of their bed, in the hope that Father Christmas will deposit presents for them to open on Christmas morning. Nowadays, of course, pillow cases have become a popular alternative. In Clement Clarke Moore’s popular poem, “An Account of a Visit from Saint Nicholas,” we are told that:
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In the hope that St Nicholas would soon be there....
And indeed, this tradition has its origins in one of the myths surrounding the original Santa Claus himself, Saint Nicholas.
The legend can be traced back to the eighth century and involves a father and his three daughters. This family had fallen on hard times and could no longer afford even the basics, such as food and clothing. There was certainly no way that the poor man could afford the dowries that the girls would need to get married. Faced with such a dire predicament, the girls’ father decided that the only option left open to them, to save them from starvation, was for the girls to enter into the world’s oldest profession.
One night, however, Saint Nicholas happened to be passing the house where the family lived and he heard the father and his daughters bemoaning their desperate situation. Nicholas had been left a considerable fortune by his parents, but now there were only three bags of gold left. No matter—it was enough to help the distraught spinsters.
Having collected the cash from his home, Nicholas returned later that night. One by one he dropped the bags of gold down the chimney, where they landed in the girls’ stockings that had been hung up to dry in front of the fire. And so, the daughters were saved from a life of iniquity and poverty.
In some versions of the story Nicholas threw the bags of gold in through a window, as each of the girls came to marriageable age, and in others the gold drops down the chimney to land in the girls’ shoes, rather than their stockings. But the sentiment is the same in all of them, with Saint Nicholas cast in the role of the generous, yet secretive benefactor.
Although it is difficult to determine when the practice of hanging up stockings specifically to receive presents from Saint Nicholas began, we do know that it was so popular by the early seventeenth century that one Protestant priest complained about parents telling their children that Saint Nicholas had brought them their presents, as it was “a bad custom, because it points children to the saint, while yet we know that not Saint Nicholas but the holy Christ Child gives us all good things for body and soul. . . . ”
The three bags of gold with which the saint saved the poor girls’ reputations has survived to this day in another, rather more surprising form. A symbol of giving, the three bags of gold, have become the three balls on the traditional pawnbroker’s sign. This dates from the Middle Ages, and Lombard Street in London. At this time, the area became home to many pawnbrokers who, when searching for a symbol to represent their trade, had to look no further than the Church of Saint Nicholas, which stood in Lombard Street itself. The statue of the saint on top of the church was shown holding the familiar money bags, which Medieval artists had painted as being round, and so they appeared as balls. This symbol of the three bags of gold was then adopted by the pawnbrokers’ businesses and has remained associated with them ever since.
As a consequence, the hanging out of stockings on Christmas Eve is one of the older traditions that have become linked to the modern commercial Christmas. Nowadays many people seem to have forgotten that once upon a time Santa delivered presents only to those deserving of such generosity as a result of their own good behavior during the previous year.
Did you know . . .?
It is traditional among many families for each child to receive a tangerine in their stocking, along with all their other presents. One of the oldest varieties is the Dancy tangerine, which has a loose, pliable peel. The tangerine used to be considered an exotic fruit and, as it was available only in December, it made the perfect Christmas treat for children to receive from Father Christmas. There is also a legend that the tradition was started by twelfthcentury French nuns who left socks full of fruit, nuts, and tangerines at the houses of the poor.
WHY DO PEOPLE PUT UP CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS?
People have always festooned their homes with some manner of decorations, whether boughs of winter greenery or with enough electric lights to double their energy bills for the year. But where did it all start? Our Norse ancestors used evergreens—mainly holly, ivy, mistletoe, and the branches of fir trees—to decorate their homes during the winter months, and to remind people that life would return to the world again. In time, other man-made decorations, such as bows of red ribbon and lit candles, would be added to enhance what nature had already provided.
With the growth of towns and cities, by the late nineteenth century it was not so easy for some people to simply take a stroll through the nearest stretch of woodland to collect their winter greenery, and so it was that commercialism played its hand; someone had to bring to market for the urban masses what had once been free to all.
This is the case now, of course, more than ever before. Much of the mistletoe that goes into decorating our homes at Christmastime, for example, is actually harvested from apple orchards in France. Following the example set by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert in the 1840s, the trend of having a Christmas tree in the home grew during the nineteenth century, and so the demand increased to have things to put on it.
Did you know . . .?
Before the advent of fairy lights, many people lit up their Christmas trees with lighted candles. However, for most people, beeswax candles were beyond their budget. As a cheaper alternative they burned tallow candles. These were made from animal fat and so would have added a distinct aroma all of their own and a good deal of smoke to the festive home.
Other than lit candles, of one form or another, at first many Christmas tree decorations were of an edible nature. There were sweets, fruit, and even wafers; then came small presents and paper ornaments. By the 1880s glass ornaments were all the rage, with baubles replacing the once traditional apples hung on the old-fashioned Paradise tree (a precursor to the modern Christmas tree)—a reminder of the forbidden fruit tasted by Adam and Ev
e in the Garden of Eden.
And now we have strings of fairy lights, tinsel by the yard, and all manner of decorations with which to adorn our homes. Then there is the belief that it is unlucky to leave Christmas decorations up after Twelfth Night. But why should this be the case? Druidic beliefs held that wood spirits were in the evergreens brought into the home, and that they could cause mischief in the household. However, they were prevented from doing so during the period lasting from Christmas Eve to Twelfth Night. After that they were free to do their worst again.
Long after the original pagan rituals and traditions had been replaced or amalgamated with Christian flavored versions, in the Middle Ages people found it hard to shake off their devotedly held superstitious beliefs so easily. Common folklore still said that the leafy boughs brought into the home at Christmastime were verily budding with nature spirits which could cause mischief if they weren’t handled properly. And the superstition has lasted to this day, even though the reasons for this have in most cases long been forgotten. If you fancy making some of your own edible tree decorations, as your forebears once did, why not try this recipe for cinnamon and ginger biscuits?
Roll the dough out flat, and fairly thin, before cutting it into the shapes you desire. There are plenty of seasonal biscuit cutters that are ideal for this job. Just remember, the less complicated the shape, the less likely it is to crumble and break, and so will survive the ultimate transition to your Christmas tree. Pierce the unbaked biscuit with a knitting needle or skewer to make a hole through which to thread the ribbon later.
Cinnamon and Ginger Biscuit Decorations
100 g/4 oz. caster sugar
100 g/4 oz. unsalted butter
200 g/8 oz. plain flour, sifted
1 tsp of ground ginger
½ tsp of cinnamon
½ tsp of vanilla extract
1 small egg, beaten
Thin, red ribbon or gold cord
To make the biscuits, start by creaming the sugar and butter together in a bowl, then add the egg. Sift the flour into the bowl and stir it in along with the cinnamon and ginger. Add the vanilla extract. Mix all of this together until a firm dough is produced. Ideally you want to leave the dough in the fridge for 1 to 2 hours at this point, but you can get away without doing so if time’s not on your side.
Grease and flour a baking sheet and preheat the oven to 375°F. Place the biscuit shapes onto the sheet and cook at the top of the oven for 10 minutes. Once they’re done, leave them on the baking sheet for a few minutes before transferring them to a wire rack to finish cooling. Thread a length of the ribbon or cord through the hole in each biscuit and tie it to form a loop, so you can hang them up. If you want, you can decorate the biscuits before hanging them on your tree; you could use white icing or melted chocolate and then embellish your miniature masterpieces with silver balls, or chopped nuts and glacé cherries. And you’re done. Just don’t expect these decorations to last until Twelfth Night!
Did you know . . .?
In the United States, it’s not uncommon for people to adorn their trees with their own edible decorations, normally pretzels and popcorn. The pretzels are often combined to create amazing shapes, while the popcorn is made into long strings before being draped on the tree.
WHAT IS FIGGY PUDDING?
Let’s get one thing clear from the start: figgy pudding is not Christmas pudding. That’s plum pudding. The constituent ingredient of figgy pudding is figs, whereas plum pudding—the traditional Christmas pudding—should be made with plums. Easy, isn’t it? So, in that case, why is everyone so familiar with figgy pudding when it’s hardly eaten anymore? Well, it’s all down to the carol “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” in which the name of the pudding is mentioned:
Oh, bring us a figgy pudding;
Oh, bring us a figgy pudding;
Oh, bring us a figgy pudding and a cup of good cheer.
We won’t go until we get some;
We won’t go until we get some;
We won’t go until we get some, so bring some out here.
Many people would be surprised by the appearance of figgy pudding, which looks like a white Christmas pudding. The following recipe for figgy pudding serves four.
Today’s traditional Christmas pudding, like so much of our modern Christmas, comes from the Victorian era. However, long before anyone ate Christmas pudding of any description, people living during the Medieval period would have tucked into a hearty bowl of frumenty—that’s a spicy porridge-like dish made with almond milk, to you and me. The following recipe dates from the fifteenth century.
Figgy Pudding
280 ml/½ pt. of milk
175 g/6 oz. dried figs
100 g/4 oz. suet
75 g/3 oz. raisins (or sultanas)
50 g/2 oz. dates
1 tbs of honey
½ tsp of ground cinnamon
¼ tsp of ginger
200 g/8 oz. flour
140 ml/¼ pt. of brandy
100 g/4 oz. prunes
50 g/2 oz. dried apricots
25 g/1 oz. dried apples
½ tsp grated lemon peel
¼ tsp of ground nutmeg
Whipped cream
This dish needs a little preparation time. The day before you plan to make the figgy pudding, soak the prunes, apricots, and apples in water, and soak the raisins (or sultanas) in the brandy. Then before you prepare the dish, remove the stones from the prunes and the figs.
Now we come to the making of the pudding itself. Sift the flour into a mixing bowl, stir in the suet and mix together with cold water until a soft dough is formed. Turn the dough out onto a floured board and knead it until smooth. Grease a large pudding basin and roll out twothirds of the pastry to line it.
Melt the honey and stir in the grated lemon peel, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger, then add this to the soaked fruits and brandy mixture. Mix well and then place inside the pastry-lined bowl. Moisten the edges of the pastry with water and cover with a lid rolled out from the rest of the pastry. Press the edges together to seal it. Cover the lot with greased greaseproof paper (or aluminum foil) and steam for two hours, topping up the boiling water from time to time to ensure that it doesn’t evaporate. To serve, turn out onto a plate and serve with the whipped cream.
Frumenty
250 g/10 oz. cracked wheat
5 cups of water
1 cup of beef stock
1 cup of almond milk
2 beaten egg yolks
A pinch of dried saffron threads
A pinch of salt
Boil the wheat in the water until it’s softened (which should take about 15 minutes) and then remove it from the heat, leaving it to stand so that the rest of the water is absorbed. Add the beef stock and the almond milk, and bring it back to a boil, before reducing the heat to a low setting. Stir the mixture for approximately 5 minutes. Stir in the beaten egg yolks and saffron, and keep stirring until the egg starts to thicken. It is important not to let the mixture boil. Take it off the heat and let it stand for another 5 minutes (during which time the mixture will continue to thicken) before serving.
If you don’t want to go to the trouble of making almond milk you can simply substitute it with ordinary milk. But if you do fancy the idea of making almond milk for yourself, here’s how to do it.
Almond Milk
100 g/4 oz. blanched almonds
1-2 tbs of ice water
1 cup of boiling water
Grind the almonds with the ice water in a mortar (or put them in a blender). Put the resulting paste into a bowl, adding the boiling water. Allow the mixture to stand for 15 minutes before straining it through a metal sieve. The resulting almond milk will last for three days if kept refrigerated. Frumenty was eaten as an accompaniment to meat, traditionally venison, and was also served up with porpoise! As well as being a popular part of the traditional Celtic Christmas meal, it was also eaten on Mother’s Day, when the inclusion of eggs would have provided a brief respite from the traditional Len
ten fast.
Although the idea of eating porridge on Christmas day might seem a little strange to us now, in areas of Scandinavia it’s still part of Christmas dinner. By Tudor times, people had graduated from eating spiced porridge to consuming Christmas puddings which—rather like mince pies—contained more than just the dried fruit and spices we’re familiar with today. A typical Tudor pudding would contain meat as well as oatmeal and spices. The preferred method of cooking this little lot was to boil it, and to stop the pudding falling apart in the bubbling vat it was stuffed into a pig’s intestine first, rather like sausages are today. In fact the pudding ended up looking like a fat sausage and would be served by the slice. But another hundred years later and the list of ingredients had changed again. If one recipe for Christmas pudding can be considered more traditional than any other, then it is probably that enjoyed by the Pudding King himself, George I.
King George I’s Christmas Pudding (1714)
10 eggs
450 g/1 lb. dried plums
450 g/1 lb. mixed peel
450 g/1 lb. sultanas
Christmas Miscellany Page 5