My December newsletter – of Devil’s cats, dried fish and books

Yesterday was the First Sunday of Advent. Suddenly, the dreary, grey November exploded into light, as us Swedes hung up glowing stars, adorned our windows with our “adventsljusstakar” and generally began the countdown to Christmas.

Now, had this been five hundred years ago, the first Sunday in Adent would also usher in the Advent fast. Similar to the Lent fast, good Christians abstained in the weeks up to Christmas and concentrated on spiritual growth. Easier to do, I imagine, in an age where Christmas was not a materialistically driven shoppingfest . . .

These days, Sweden also celebrates Black Friday—now extended to Black Week—so the savvy among us have already done most of their Christmas shopping. A bit sad, IMO. I recall those years when part of the Christmas glow was to wander about and carefully pick out just the right gift for your loved ones.

All that Christian fasting back then still affects Swedish Christmas traditions. In all of Europe, a staple during the long weeks of fasting—whether before Easter or Christmas—was fish, and specifically the dried, salted codfish the Spanish call bacalao. Caught primarily in Norway, the fish was gutted, deboned and spread out to dry in the brisk Atlantic winds, resulting in something that looks like dry leather—and quite inedible. It wasn’t (isn’t, as many people still enjoy this ancient delicacy). You just needed to know how to prepare it.

In Sweden, the preparation of the bacalao—which we call lutfisk—traditionally began on December 9. The desiccated fish was put to soak, and after five or six days, it would be put in a lye solution for a couple of days, after which it was rinsed in repeated baths of clean water over a further five or six days. By then, the fish had regained some of its original form, and it was full of much needed protein. My grandmother would tell me of just how much work preparing the lutfisk was—she lived in the far, far north of Sweden and was responsible for sourcing the water—from the ice-covered river.

At Christmas, the lutfisk would be boiled and served with a white bechamel sauce, sometimes flavoured with crushed mustard seeds. In medieval times, the lutfisk was served with raisins, almonds and peas and considered something of a feast. My mother loved lutfisk. Me, not so much, as the consistency is a bit too much like jelly.

But while I may not rate lutfisk as a necessity of my Christmas preparations, I, just like my mother, must have saffron buns—lussekatter. Originally, these golden buns came from Germany and the Netherlands, where they were called duivekat—devil’s cat—and were baked to keep the devil away during the darkest days of the year. The tradition reached Sweden in the 17^th century, but it is not until relatively recently that we renamed them, this due to a more and more elaborated celebration of St Lucia. Devil’s cat became Lucia cat became lussekatt.

I have baked my first batch for the year.

I have lit the first candle of Advent and even allowed myself to just sit for a while, sinking into moments of peace and quiet. A quick breather before getting on with December which, as always, is a busy, busy month. But come December 22, I will disconnect from the world and sink back into that peace and quiet—far, far away from the madding crowd (and isn’t that a most unsubtle literary reference 😉)

Now, when I have moments of peace and quiet, I read. I am assuming you agree, so here come a couple of reading recommendations to see you through December!

Under a Southern Sky by Clare Flynn: Yes, this is the second book in a series, and yes, it makes sense to maybe have read Sisters at War first, but frankly, this wonderful book about young, widowed Hannah Kidd stands perfectly well on its own. A book about loss and grief, about finding your way back to life—all against the vividly depicted background of Australia during World War II. Once again, Ms Flynn delivers a captivating story and a most engaging protagonist.

Mistress of Dartington Hall by Rosemary Griggs: From World War II to Tudor England—what can I say, I am rather eclectic in my reading. In the late 1580s, England is holding its breath: word has it that Philip of Spain is assembling a huge fleet, aiming to attack the English. Along the coasts, beacons are set up, and people fret and pray as they await the papist attack. In Dartington, uncomfortably close to the Devon coast, it is Mistress Roberda Champernowne who is doing her best to keep her people calm while overseeing the preparations to withstand—or flee—an attack.

This is biographical fiction at its best, Ms Griggs’ excellent research coupled with her intimate knowledge of her setting—Dartington in Devon—and a fluid, lovely prose. What I especially loved was how Roberda always acts within the constraints her time imposed on women—she is strong, she is brave, but ultimately, she is subject to her husband’s will. Gah! Especially given just how worthless he is!

The Cameo Keeper by Deborah Swift: Accompany Ms Swift to 17^th century Rome, a city heaving with deceit and corruption, poverty and wealth. A new pope has been elected, and with the pope comes his principal advisor, the calculating, intelligent and ruthless Olimpia Maidalchini. Yup: a woman! In the midst of all this stands Mia, her fiancé Jacopo and her beloved stepmother Giulia—who has reasons of her own to keep very, very far below the radar. As always, Ms Swift combines vivid prose with in-depth research!

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Well, with that I will leave you to enjoy December. I wish you all some moments of peace, of sharing a look or a hug with someone you love.

Anna