Christmas is a Series of Fragrances
An early Christmas scent arises on that first morning in late November or early December when the air carries the promise of snow. Growing up in the North, I recognized a purplish tinge in the cold sky, harbinger of a snowfall. I was convinced I could even smell it.
In this land of green Christmases, that first cold day of winter is still magic. I stop to gaze at the sky, check the mountains for a skiff of the white stuff, and think Christmas. Often the snow at higher elevations turns to rain and fog down at sea level. But when the grey overcast clears in a day or so, the shoulders of Grouse and Seymour are an alluring white.
The next Christmas fragrance is the tree. Early in December, usually on my birthday, which happens to be St. Nicholas Day, we go to our neighbours' farm to choose a tree. Scouting the the lanes of fir and spruce, we inhale the heady fragrance. In the evening, when Tom, the grower, drops off our tree we bring it inside, where it fills the house with the magical fragrance of the season.
Then comes the aroma of the seasonal food. An early batch of gingerbread is the first to deck the house with scent. Once it's in the oven, it's time to grind some dark roasted coffee. When the gingerbread comes out, it's time to sit down, enjoy fragrant coffee and fresh, hot gingerbread.
Early on Christmas eve, I begin to prepare the trifle the old way. The first layer has the lovely smell of raspberries thawed from the summer stock: their delectable scent wafts us as I pour the hot jelly over sponge cake. After the jelly sets, the light scent of sliced banana and the warm custard layer add their own bouquet to the next layer of preparation. We enjoy our Christmas dessert with the added fragrance of fresh cream whipped with Mexican vanilla.
On Christmas morning I prepare the turkey for the oven. The kitchen fills with the smells of onion, cumin, cinnamon and cardamom as I toast the rice and then partly cook it before stuffing the turkey.
The roast turkey gradually builds over several hours, until the whole house is filled with the aroma. An hour before the turkey comes out, we prepare the winter root vegetables, smelling the earthy fragrance of turnip peels and brussels sprouts.
Then my daughter prepares the cranberry sauce. The whole berries pop open and cook, they send out a sharp and delicious aroma. She cooks the sauce first and adds sugar later -- just a little. Cranberry sauce smells and tastes best when it's tart and a still a bit warm.
Perhaps it's those hours of exposure to the smells of the special foods that make this dinner so special. Our mouths are watering by the time we make the final preparations, salivating as we open the jars and release new scents: bread-and-butter pickles and stuffed green olives. Christmas is special: for once we take time to enjoy a whole day of preparations. The evening reward is a leisurely family meal with our loved ones.
Boxing Day is a holiday from cooking, a time to enjoy turkey leftovers or turkey pickle sandwiches, each smelling slightly different from the original feast. In our house, Boxing Day also brings one more Christmas fragrance. After taking the meat off the turkey, I simmer the bones for several hours, preparing a delicious stock. This leaves me free to work on puzzles for most of the day; I always associate the smell of turkey stock with doing jigsaws.
The following day, I strain and prepare the stock and boil it with orzo, then add egg and lemon, and finally, cut-up turkey meat. Once again, we enjoy the aroma, now tangy with lemon. It's my husband's favourite, the best turkey soup I know.
Now we have prepared enough food to last till the New Year. All we'll need to do is add some salads and fruit. It's time to sit down, read the Christmas books, and work on the jigsaw puzzle, indulging now and then in a fragrant mandarin orange or two.
May we long enjoy the leisure and the pleasure of Christmas.
Happy New Year!