Eve.

Piping hot cabbage rolls – bacon, hot Hungarian smoked sausage included

It is the day before Christmas Eve. Twenty-third. And what are we all up to?

Well, as of this moment we have some version of A Christmas Carol movie a-playing in the background. Some version of muted holiday tunes a-tuning in the background from the music box.

Nearby in the oven are two roasting pans stocked with cabbaged rolls. Hungarian, yes. Spiced with paprika and Magyaros fűszersó (fū-sehr-show): a medley of garlic, onion, parsnip, basil, marjoram . . . you get the idea.

The joy of working with mum and rolling these tasty bundles by hand makes the day. Ground meat, a bit of rice and spice. Cabbage. A few pieces of hot Hungarian smoked sausage tucked into the pan for flavour. Some ham. Bacon. Even now the house is full of the aroma of cabbage rolls simmering.

The last few evenings we’ve played games by the fire. Card games–anything! The laughs and chuckles have been worth it. Time spent together with family. Outside rain patters away. In the distance waves break on the shore. This is our Coastal Christmas. And yes, every evening our string of Christmas lights go on and off again before bed.

By my left hand resting on the table is a bell that looks startlingly like the one held by the young boy in The Polar Express film. If you haven’t seen the it, well, it is a seasonal favourite. And again, we tend to celebrate Christmas in our own way. A few songs, a few games and a lot of food.

This year we are keeping the festivities close. Just family. We often love to invite others. In fact during the weeks leading up to the celebration we do. No doubt we’ll be in good company for New Year’s Eve.

There is a certain magic to the season. We don’t buy gifts. At least not anymore. That practice sort of faded for us. We spend the little that we do on food. And on hosting others. We take time to cook and bake together. We share it with neighbours, friends, whomever.

And so I turn to Dickens. Rereading one volume entitled “Christmas Festivities,” he notes how this seasonal magic is more than a feeling. It seems to charge us with Christmas spirit. He writes:

“Who can be insensible to the outpourings of good feeling, and the honest interchange of affectionate attachment, which abound at this season of the year? A Christmas family Christmas party! We know nothing in nature more delightful! There seems a magic in the very name of Christmas.”

No doubt I am awash in the joy of the season. We don’t do too much. We don’t expect too much, but we celebrate for the sake of celebration. For the sake of Christmas! To be together with family and loved ones. Who could ask for more. We must be grateful for what we have. At least this is my view.

Outside it is getting dark. Christmas lights are aglow. Any minute now the cabbage rolls will be ready. By golly they’ll taste even better tomorrow. Although tomorrow’s meal will be different again. Mákos guba (chopped bite-sized rolls tossed in ground poppy seeds and sugar), fried fish (a coastal salmon) and spicy fish soup and maybe a few fried oysters in celebration of the region. No meat on Christmas Eve. That’s tradition. Christmas Day though? Different story.

Enjoyed with rye bread, raw onion, raw garlic. Sour cream too.

It’s raining outside now and Christmas is coming. It’s practically here.

Hoping that wherever you are and whomever you’re with you are happy and well.

Merry Christmas.