All about the
most wonderful time of the year.
Recipes passed down through generations, traditions from around the world, and the small rituals that make December feel like a long, warm exhale. Pour the cocoa — you’re home.
Explore
Find your favourite corner of Christmas
The grandmother’s gingerbread that taught me patience
Every December, my grandmother would roll out a batch of dough so thin you could nearly read the recipe through it. The secret, she said, was in the waiting. Here’s the full recipe, the story behind it, and why I’ll never rush the oven again.
From the blog
Latest stories from the fireside
Twelve candles for twelve nights: our December ritual
A warm welcome, and the long version of why December feels different in my house. Every year we begin the same way…
Read more
Orange, clove, and the smell of coming home
A warm welcome, and the long version of why December feels different in my house. Every year we begin the same way…
Read more
Grandmother’s ginger cookies, and the year she forgot the molasses
A warm welcome, and the long version of why December feels different in my house. Every year we begin the same way…
Read moreAround the world
How the world keeps December warm
From Iceland’s 13 Yule Lads to Colombia’s candlelit Día de las Velitas, every corner has a ritual. Here are four we come back to.
13 nights of Yule Lads
Children leave a shoe on the windowsill. Each night a new impish brother visits with small surprises — or potatoes.
Día de las Velitas
On December 7th, families line windows and streets with candles and paper lanterns to welcome the season of light.
Saint Lucia’s crown
The eldest daughter wears a crown of candles and saffron buns are passed at first light on December 13th.
La Befana
A friendly old witch flies on her broom the night of January 5th, leaving sweets for good children and coal for mischievous ones.
The person behind the blog
Hi, I’m Eleanor. I write about the small rituals that make winter feel soft.
Seven years ago I started keeping notes on my grandmother’s recipes. It grew into a letter for friends, then a newsletter, and now this little house on the internet. If you love December, you’ll find a chair by the fire here.
One cozy email. Every Sunday. Until Twelfth Night.
A recipe, a tradition, a small memory. That’s it. No tracking, no ads, just a warm note in your inbox.
Pull up a chair.
If you love long winter evenings as much as we do, you’ll feel at home here.