If you think the spirit of Christmas is lost, check in the kitchen

Christmas cookbooks and food writing can be bittersweet, offering as they do, a vision of a time of year which can be far removed from our own turkey fat- splattered bickering, and, in my case, blended family reality. The desire to be together is there but those family gatherings in picturesque barns, wearing matching non-acrylic festive sweaters, where all generations engage in non-combative conversation around a fire with platters of perfect mince pies and frosted mugs of eggnog? That's not the Millers AT ALL although it could be worse; at least we're not related to Nigel Farage.

BTW, this tweet made me laugh.

I've come to terms with my messy, imperfect Christmases but I do enjoy a good flirt with fantasy at this time of year and the writings below are some I love the most. I seek inspiration from them and then end up with something that isn't quite what I imagined and that's okay too. One part of the lunch might be forgotten and left in the oven or fridge and, on one occasion, frozen sold on the potting bench (sprouts). I have cooked turkeys with giblets in. I have sworn at the Christmas tree and threatened it with an early consignment to recycling and vowed, VOWED to go abroad next year. But I never do. We never do.

So...to slightly paraphrase Bonny Wolf, if you think the spirit of Christmas is lost, go look in a cookbook. You'll surely find it there.

The Pastry Queen Christmas by Rebecca Rather with Alison Oresman

Whatever happened to Rebecca? I adore all of her three books but perhaps this one the most. I do wish she'd write more. Christmas in Fredericksburg, Texas is SO removed from my own life although I like to imagine I would be living a version of it had we remained in northern Mexico. (We often used to hop over the border.) Like all the Americans of my imagination, Rebecca has a great- Aunt Milbry whose fruitcake is nothing like the version in the Johnny Carson joke which goes from house to house and is never eaten. There's a chili frito pie and cowboy boots filled with mistletoe; sopaipillas (because why not mess about with boiling hot fat at the most fraught time of year?); a prickly pear martini (told you it was a fantasy Christmas for those of us in the UK); photos of Santa running down Fredericksburg high street and a Cajun Christmas gumbo for Boxing Day and beyond. Oh, and an eggnog cheesecake with a chocolate cookie crust which ought to become a tradition in homes throughout the land. I have never had a recipe of hers fail on me.

Kettle Broth to Gooseberry Fool: A Celebration of Simple English Cooking by Jenny Baker

This isn't necessarily about Christmas but I've included it for two reasons: Jenny Baker is criminally neglected as a fine author and deserves to have her books reprinted. And secondly, the section titled Autumn and Winter Matters is a perfectly lovely treatise on the colder months.

'As the afternoon darkens and the fading light tinges everything blue, so the lit-up windows of the surrounding houses glow with ever-deepening orange.'

Doesn't that make you want to hurry home and steam the kitchen up with a delicious fug of turnip soup to eat with fried bread or the delightfully named hen on a nest followed by cinnamon toast for pudding?

Nigella Christmas by Nigella Lawson

When this book came out and my daughter spotted it in the bookshop she danced around the floor, holding it aloft. It's a joyous book, a kind book, reminding us that Christmas rituals are, as Nigella writes, essentially an act of good faith which shine a light in the darkness of winter. And God knows 2017 has needed a bloody great klieg light to chase away what has felt like unrelenting grimness. And the food! There's a black forest martini that also begs to be turned into a frozen concoction of deliciousness; cakes decorated with herd of plastic reindeer; really easy tricks like the redcurrant and wholegrain mustard sauce (make it!); entire meal planners (an easy elegant dinner for eight, lots of festive lunch options with every kind of animal and non-animals); stuffed pumpkins before most of us thought of doing it; golden fruit cakes and starry chocolate versions; and a host of recipes for edible gifts.

Not a cookbook, but do read Jane Grigson on strawberries whose memory reminds us of 'our northern winter longing for summer'. I included this extract in an old blog post about how food writing can be an antidote to clean eating.

Also not a cookbook but an irreverent video clip of Monica Sheridan stuffing the lousiest turkey she's ever seen.

The Dead Celebrity Christmas Cookbook Presents Christmas in Tinsel Town by Frank DeCaro

Look, I never said this newsletter was going to be tasteful did I? At least you've been spared Holiday Baking With GG Allin (I might have made that title up). Who wouldn't want Donna Reed's lemon bundt cake, chapter titles such as 'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas cookie', Stan Laurel's ham ring mold (as amiable-looking as his smile), and Joan Crawford's angel food cake (oh the irony).

It has yet to arrive but I have ordered this. it looks lovely.

Christmas Celebration: Santa Fe Traditions, Food and Crafts by Richard Clawson and Jann Arrington Wolcott

I like this because it offers insights into the seasonal traditions of families from Native American, Spanish, and Frontier American families living in New Mexico. There is lots of decoration and party planning advice too (which I will marvel over then probably ignore in order to do the same thing I do every year).

Julia Reed on Christmas, cheese straws, and the need to make an extra effort when times are trying. (This was written in 2001.) Julia can be very Marie Antoinette but that's what I love about her and her writing. More on Julia in a forthcoming newsletter btw.

Every Christmas I reread Truman Capote’s 1956 short story “A Christmas Memory”. Here's the film version, narrated by the man himself.

And finally, the lovely Rachel Roddy on her British-Italian Christmas.A calm and beautiful note to end on.