Turkey,Tension & Traditions
A Christmas newsletter about food, family, coffee, books, music and more.
Dear reader,
How’s December treating you? I hope your Christmas days are shaping up to be spent with loved ones, tucked away from the damp cold, indulging in good food, and taking quiet walks to reflect on the whirlwind that was 2024. Seriously, how insanely fast did this year fly by? (Yes, I know we say this every year, but come on. This year really outdid itself.) But before we dive headfirst into New Year’s resolutions (that is, if you’re into those. I myself am not), there’s still the festive season to wade through. So, what does it look like for you? Cozy family dinners? A “Friendsmas”? A Christmas spent somewhere new, far from home?
For me, the Christmas butterflies started fluttering back in London. George Michael’s voice was booming from massive speakers attached to neon-lit bikes rushing around every shopping district. The Brits really like George Michael. I sipped mulled wine at the food market near UAL, where my Saturday morning classes were held. Slightly tipsy but toasty, I capped off my break with a sobering coffee before heading back to class. And oh, how I miss the smoky honey and sea salt twists from Pophams! That bakery had a “no-laptop” policy, so I’d sit there armed only with a little notebook, which felt delightfully analogue. I think 2024 made me more analogue.
Yet, as I’ve learned in my adult years, the closer we get to the holidays, the more those holiday blues start creeping in. Don’t get me wrong—I still adore Christmas and New Year’s. But the older I get, the more the magic of the season starts to unravel a bit. All the cozy rituals—hot chocolate, Christmas shopping, cocooning in oversized sweaters, watching The Holiday—are lovely, but they don’t always deliver the satisfaction you expect. There’s many reasons to be sad, everyday, also around Christmas time. Festive lights and a turkey don’t change the things that break your heart.
When I returned to Amsterdam, I brought back a fresh stack of books. Books! Once again, I’ve decided to bury myself in exquisite fiction this winter. This past year, I’ve read a good number of classics, with Anna Karenina by Tolstoy standing out as my favourite. Recently, I finished Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys, which was a revelation, and The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald, which, while beautifully written, didn’t quite grip me as much. I’ve noticed I tend to gravitate toward male authors, but next year, that’s changing. My new stack features Toni Morrison, more Jean Rhys, Deborah Levy, and Promise by Elizabeth Griffiths—a book I cheekily started early and am devouring like the bookworm I am.
In this newsletter, I’ll be sharing a mix of how I’ve been surviving winter and what’s been swirling around my mind lately. As always, it’s a little random, a little reflective, and, I hope, a little comforting.
"Kleine burgerlijke dingetjes"
To my English-speaking readers: I’m sorry, but there’s no perfect translation for this phrase. It loosely means "little bourgeois things," but even that doesn’t quite capture it. It’s about those small, mundane moments of nuclear-family life—the kind of things that a self-proclaimed eccentric, progressive, modern cosmopolitan might roll their eyes at. But for so many people, these little rituals form the rhythm of daily life. I grew up in happy suburban bliss and returning to my parents' crib for the holiday season, I’ve found myself reconnecting with and appreciating these moments again. Trips to the bakery, quick stops at the local grocery store, long Christmas walks through Het Amsterdamse Bos, and Christmas choirs belting out hymns on my mother’s favourite Christian radio station. Festive and wholesome goodness.
Queen of suitcases
That is me. I’m the Martha Stewart that is in this picture. My parents are in the middle of moving, I don’t really have a place of my own, and after spending time in London, I’m heading back there in February. For now, I’m crashing on my sister’s couch, ruling my little suitcase kingdom.
Christmas Market Bliss
On a very, very rainy Saturday, I found myself at an organic Christmas market in Rotterdam. Picture this: young parents juggling a stroller in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, Labradoodles trotting happily, and oysters being slurped, while others stuffed their mouths with sweet almond pastries. It was delightfully burgerlijk.
The charm didn’t last long, though. My fingers were starting to go numb, and just as I was considering leaving, a puddle of water fell from the roof of a stall—right on my head. Nature’s way of reminding me of my African roots, perhaps. I’ve never been the Germanic type who thrives on sitting outside in the freezing cold, basking in “gezelligheid.” Let’s just say my Christmas market adventure was cut short.
I Am the Panettone and Pandoro Lady
Every year I lived in Rotterdam, my Ethiopian mother gave me strict instructions: buy panettone and pandoro. This annual pilgrimage would take me to Little Italy, a family-owned Italian store with an unbeatable selection. Every year, it was the same guy behind the counter, and every year he’d give me a look as though he recognized me.
One year, he even asked, “Buurvrouw? Ik herken je ergens van” (Neighbour? I’m sure I’ve seen you before). Nope, I’m not your neighbour—I’m just that person. The Panettone and Pandoro Lady. Every December, like clockwork, there I was, filling my arms with those golden boxes. And every year, he still looks at me with that same inquiring expression.
My Current Favourite Breakfast
Porridge with black tahini and butter basted dates. You’ll thank me.
Skeleton Trees
Winter and death trace themselves on the trees, their bony branches sticking out into the sky. Winter has always been my season of introspection, of quiet recalibration; a season too easily dismissed. A raindrop falls from a branch, slipping cold into the collar of my coat. Gratitude, gratitude, gratitude. Even now, the season insists on being felt.
Meaningful Music
One Christmas when I was a teenager, we drove to visit my aunt in France. The entire journey, my father played The White Album by The Beatles on CD. Not only has it become my favourite Beatles album, but because of that road trip, I now associate it with Christmas.
There’s something both nostalgic and futuristic about the album. To me, it sounds like lucid dreaming; rooted in the framework of your subconscious, yet conscious enough to make decisions; attached to the charm of yesterday but irresistibly curious about the possibilities of tomorrow.
If you want to diverge from the usual a bit, here are my favourite Christmas tracks of this year:
Flowers in December by Mazzy Star
Snowbound by Sarah Vaughan
This Christmas by Donny Hathaway
New Yorker “How to Survive Winter”
Read this post. It’s cute. Maybe it’ll make you laugh.
Re-appreciating Good, Simple, Black Filter Coffee
A couple of years ago, I had to drastically change my coffee habits. Problems with my skin and an unexpected allergic reaction to caffeine left me with no choice. And let me tell you—it was devastating. I love coffee. It’s the one thing that gets me out of bed in the morning.
At first, I gave it up completely. For two long years. Slowly, though, I began reintroducing it into my life, sporadically, within moderation. Now, because I still don’t allow myself to drink it as often as I’d like, each cup feels like…well….heaven.
And I have to say: nothing, absolutely nothing, beats a perfectly brewed cup of filter coffee. Black as night. Hot as hell. Simple and sublime.
An Instagram Account: Trivarnahariharan_Poetry
A special person introduced me to this account, and it’s become one of my favorites. Every day, it shares the most beautiful and poetic literary quotes—Sylvia Plath, Bell Hooks, Virginia Woolf, Jeanette Winterson, and more.
Whenever I catch myself in yet another brain-rot moment from mindlessly scrolling on Insta, one of these quotes appears, and it’s like a breath of fresh air. It fulfils me in a way few things on Instagram do. I read it, feel inspired, and put my phone away, remembering that the life I truly want exists outside the borders of my iPhone screen.
Nancy Meyers Family Dynamics During Christmas Dinners
There’s always that moment during the holidays, isn’t there? The inevitable falling out. The one conversation that turns the air thick with tension. All the kids return to their parents’ houses for a few days, and though it’s familiar, living under the same roof doesn’t feel as natural as it used to. One person’s buttering the turkey, the other’s pouring wine, and somehow, through the most casual of exchanges, the unresolved family drama rises to the surface once again.
“Why did you never give me back my sweater?”
“You never showed up to my birthday!”
“You don’t make enough effort to improve our relationship!”
It’s like something straight out of a Nancy Meyers movie.
I remember my first Christmas dinner after moving out for uni. I came back all excited, only to find myself spiraling into chaos by the end of the evening. What had changed? Why was everyone suddenly so… extra sensitive? It’s like we all become incapable of controlling our tempers during the holiday season.
It reminds me of that episode of The Bear—you know, the one with the flashbacks to the family Christmas dinner? It’s tragically sad, yet darkly hilarious. Honestly, it was one of the best bits of acting I’ve seen this year.
And sometimes, the drama starts before dinner even begins. Just about an hour ago, my sister managed to knock off someone’s wing mirror while driving our father’s car. Dad is… not happy about it. But hey, Merry Christmas!
Café Tip for If You’re Ever in Rotterdam
Multi Multi. Last week, the same week of the Christmas market, I stopped by for a, ahem, filter coffee, but I have to say, their lunch menu is absolutely delicious too. One word: onion soup. And Gruyère. Lots of it.
New Year’s Resolution
As I mentioned in the intro, I don’t usually do resolutions. But if I had to make one, it would be this: become rich- quickly pay off student debt - buy house - purchase entire closet full of The Row.
Cashmere Slipper Socks by Cos
Last year one of the best Christmas presents I got were a pair of cashmere slipper socks by Cos. They are so soft and warm, I feel like a rabbit in one of Beatrix Potter’s illustrations.
Merry Christmas to you, dear reader <3
Love,
Naomi