"Merry Christmas, You Wonderful Old Building and Loan!"

For some reason, many people dislike It's A Wonderful Life, calling it sentimental or saccharine. Whenever I hear this, I wonder if we're watching the same movie. Despair and suicide at Christmas time are not as uncommon as they should be, and while they could be treated sentimentally, director Frank Capra does anything but. Maybe it's the final scene (which I won't give away) that people are objecting to. In which case, I have to wonder if our world is as saturated in cynicism as my grandfather seems to think. This ending isn't a common occurrence certainly, but it's genuine and realistic. George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) is truly a great man (in a way that we're ALL called to be great) and this is why he deserves this ending. Anyways, I'll let someone else (who really gets it) explain why this is a great movie. (Article contains spoilers!) It's A Wonderful Life is not only my favourite Christmas film, but one of my favourite movies of all time.

I scrapped the idea of making food with this. Eggnog is what's called for and plenty of it. Traditionally, eggnog is spiked with rum and while that's good, brandy is better and bourbon is best. Try all 3 and decide for yourself which you like.

SPIRITED EGGNOG



6 egg yolks
6 cups milk
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
rum, brandy or bourbon to taste (optional)

Beat the egg yolks with 2 cups of the milk and then pour them into a small saucepan over medium-low heat, stirring constantly. As soon as steam starts to rise from the liquid, remove from heat and stir in the sugar. Pour in the remaining 4 cups of milk and the nutmeg and mix well. You could stir in the alcohol at this point, but I usually leave it out so kids can partake as well, and let people mix the booze into their own glass. Garnish each glass with a dollop of whipped cream and a pinch of nutmeg. Merry Christmas!

Christmas in England

Scrooge (Alastair Sim) and the Ghost of Christmas Present (Francis de Wolff) watching the Cratchit family carve their Christmas goose

The 1951 Christmas Carol (or Scrooge) is the definitive film version and Alastair Sim is the definitive Scrooge. I sometimes feel a little irritated when films are made of my favourite books (I don't think they've made a perfect Tale of Two Cities yet and the most recent Brideshead Revisited film was a travesty) but this Christmas Carol, while changing a couple of things, is the most faithful to Dickens' vision and spirit. It's inspiring. It's tradition.


CHRISTMAS IN ENGLAND WITH MULLED WINE AND ROASTED CHESTNUTS


Mulled Wine




2 x 750 ml bottles of red wine
2 oranges, sliced thinly
4 cinnamon sticks
10 whole cloves
1/4 cup dark rum
4 tablespoons dark brown sugar



Combine all ingredients in a large saucepan over medium-high heat and cook, stirring every few minutes or so, until steaming but NOT boiling! Serve warm in mugs or heatproof glasses, garnished with a cinnamon stick. Mulled wine makes beautiful music, especially when accompanied by roasted chestnuts.



Roasted Chestnuts

Chestnuts (however many you can beg, borrow or steal ;)
Water (enough to cover the nuts)


Soak your chestnuts in room temperature water for 20-30 minutes to soften the shells.


Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.


With a sharp knife, make slits in the flat side of each chestnut (to allow the steam to escape and prevent the nuts from exploding) in an X shape. Place the nuts on a baking sheet with the cut sides up and bake for 20-25 minutes until fragrant and easy to peel (the nut inside will be golden brown). Peel when cool enough to handle and eat while warm.



God bless us, every one!

And They were Sore Afraid...

A Charlie Brown Christmas is a holiday classic, played countless times every year on several TV channels, beginning in mid-November. It's a perennial favourite for Christians and non-Christians alike, its showcasing of Luke 2 notwithstanding. At Christmas time, we all want meaning. The original meaning of Christmas bursts everywhere in our culture, political correctness uncomfortably unable to keep a lid on it, with "Season's Greetings" and "Happy Holidays." And somehow people love Charlie Brown, whatever their beliefs. It isn't just the awesome jazz piano composed by the late great Vince Guaraldi. It isn't just the quotable lines ("All I want's my fair share!" "He never got his picture on bubblegum cards!" "I know when I've been insulted; I know when I've been insulted!"). It's the children singing together. It's the little tree: pathos on a spindly trunk. It's Linus reciting from the Gospel of Luke. This is the meaning of Christmas, Charlie Brown.

CANDY CANE HOT CHOCOLATE (serves 1, but is easily doubled, tripled, etc)

2 cups milk
1 scant tablespoon cocoa
1 generous (but not exactly heaping) tablespoon of sugar
1 tablespoon creme de menthe or peppermint schnapps
2-3 tablespoons whipped cream
Candy cane or Christmas sprinkles to garnish (optional)

Combine the milk, cocoa and sugar in a small sauce pan over medium-high heat, stirring every few minutes until very hot. Do not allow to boil! Remove from heat.

Pour into a medium sized mug and stir in the creme de menthe. Dollop the whipped cream on top of the hot chocolate and garnish with the candy cane and/or the Christmassy sprinkles, if using.

Spiced, Poignant Warmth

Dear Frankie
2005; Emily Mortimer, Gerard Butler, Jack McElhone
Directed by Shona Auerbach

The storyline of this Scottish film sounds touching enough: single mother writes letters to her son, pretending to be son’s away-at-sea father. “Father’s” ship is coming to port; nine-year-old Frankie (a wise, unforgettable Jack McElhone) is expecting to finally meet his Da. Frankie’s mother (the luminously beautiful Emily Mortimer) hires a stranger to play the part.

And it is a beautiful story, a touching story. But the best moments are the most unexpected. The pace set by director Shona Auerbach is lilting and lingering and true to life. She doesn’t rush us to reconciliation or to words that will ease an awkward silence. As gentle and lovely as Dear Frankie is, it is also a tense film, one in which I found my heart pounding through many scenes, waiting to see or hear what would come next. No scene is as fraught with tension as the moment when Frankie meets the man (Gerard Butler) his mother has hired to be Frankie’s dad for the day. Almost every emotion in the human spectrum runs through us in those few moments.

Herein is the genius of Dear Frankie: that the filmmakers, Auerbach and writer Amy Gibb and each actor is creating a real story, is inhabiting a real role, a real life. (No, I don't mean that it's based on a true story, just that it's so genuine to how we feel, react, behave.) They are not acting a part or having the perfect screen kiss or laugh. They hold back, they hesitate, they suffer, they are silent for long moments, they experience a hundred feelings in the blink of an eye. We forget how pretend and glossy films usually are, how simulated the world they create, how artificial the responses we have to them. We forget, that is, until a film this true comes along and holds up a mirror to human experience.

This drink is a deep, hot cherry cider capped with a small dollop of whipped cream and shaved chocolate. I watched Dear Frankie recently on a chilly October night and it seems like a perfect autumn film, capturing so much of that season’s melancholy and changefulness. But you could (and should) watch it any time of year. The drink, on the other hand, is good for autumn, better for winter, and truly perfect for Christmas.

SPICY CHERRY CIDER
This cider is inspired by a recipe on Epicurious.com.

4 cups cherry juice (100% black cherry juice, such as R.W Knudson's)
2 cups apple juice (again, only the best: Tropicana, or another 100% apple)
1 cup brandy
2 tablespoons sugar
4 cinnamon sticks
20 whole cloves
1 large apple, cored and cut in quarters (peeling it isn't necessary)

1/3 cup whipping cream (optional)
1 ounce bitter sweet chocolate (optional)

Stir the cherry juice, apple juice, brandy, sugar, cinnamon, cloves and apple together in heavy-bottomed saucepan. Bring to a boil and reduce the heat to medium, stirring regularly. Simmer for ten minutes or so. (This isn't to reduce so much as it is to infuse the drink with the spices.) Remove from heat and strain out the cinnamon sticks, cloves and apple chunks. Discard the spices and the apple. (I also save the apple in the fridge sometimes and mash it's pulpy, garnet coloured, sweet spiciness into a bowl of thick, plain yogourt for my breakfast next morning.)

Pour the cider into 5 teacups or small mugs.

Whip the cream if using and shave the chocolate. Dollop some cream and sprinkle some chocolate onto each drink. Serve immediately. Serves 5.