Have yourself a Merry Danish Christmas
Tree traditions, elasticated waistbands, prizes for anyone who remembers where I've hidden the Christmas chocolates, and sleep. Dear Santa: please, please, please may I have some sleep...?
Happy Friday! I’ve submitted the manuscript of my new novel (Deck the halls!)! I’ve had a moment to sit and drink coffee alone and read magazines (Hallelujah! Read my piece on Viking-proofing your winter in Good Housekeeping and another on making home hygge in Psychologies). Then? School broke up for the holidays and now I’m on the longest shift of pre-Christmas parenting.
I’m missing Denmark a lot at this time of year and my home town in particular. This picture of Vejle by zsofi007 for Last Week in Denmark (a lovely newsletter written by fellow immigrants in Denmark) brought a tear to my eye earlier this week. No one does Christmas quite like the Porny Pony town (a pilgrimage destination for The Year of Living Danishly readers) and the ‘cats with breasts' bench’ will always hold a special place in my heart…
So I thought I’d share with you a classic from the archives and my time in Denmark - all about what anyone living Danishly will be eating on the big day.
Danes celebrate Christmas on the 24th when candles light every home and families gather to spend the next few days together, undiluted. But really the whole of December is considered a special family time in Denmark. And they like it this way.
In common with most areas of Danish life, there’s a structure to Christmas in Denmark and everyone has a role to play. Children are expected to help out and do their bit, from washing up to tidying, cleaning up, and even the cooking. Family members often take responsibility for different courses and share the workload.
Danish Christmas trees (look healthier than my Christmas tree)
Bushy Danish firs are left outside until Christmas Eve when they’re decorated as a family with the colours of the Danish flag – red and white – as well as fairy lights and real candles. I know, it’s madness. And yes, I have set fire to soft furnishings in the past. No, I don’t want to talk about it. Yes: I’m more careful these days. And no: I couldn’t wait until the 24th and my beast of a tree has been up and adorned for ages and is now wilting (will I ever learn?).
On the 24th, the devout might pop to church in the afternoon (though as one of the most secular countries in the world, this is largely for the hygge) before bundling home to cook.
Danish Christmas dinner
This is likely to be a feast of slow-roasted duck or flæskesteg - roasted pork with crackling (or, in some households I hear of, both). This is served with potatoes, two ways: caramelised and boiled potatoes. Because Danes can never have enough potatoes in any given mealtime. You might have some red cabbage on the side for garnish but from what I’ve gleaned over the years, meat and potatoes are doing most of the heavy lifting here. And yes, we’re all interested to see how this pans out with Denmark’s plan to be leaders in the plant-based revolution.
The main course is followed by risalamande - rice pudding mixed with whipped cream and chopped almonds with a whole almond hidden somewhere in the dish.
Once you’ve cooked, eaten, and tidied, it’s time for pakkeleg in our house – a high-octane form of pass-the-parcel. Even if the thought of party games makes you cringe (*waves*) you need to try pakkeleg. Everyone brings a wrapped present, puts it in the middle of the table, then rolls a dice. Throw a six and you can select a gift until they’ve all been taken. After this, a six means you can steal someone else’s present or even collect the whole haul against the clock. There are sometimes tears (Danish kids learn life’s harsh realities early on), there’s often alcohol involved, and there is always chaos by the end.
Post dinner and pass-the-parcel 2.0 there is dancing…
Remember the tree decorated with naked flames? Well, Danes love living on the edge so much that it’s customary to dance around the candle-lit Christmas tree after you’ve eaten and drunk your fill. You also have to sing. Loudly.
Singing famously slashes stress and releases endorphins but doing it with other people also boosts mental wellbeing, according to Harvard and Yale studies. Plus, it’s really hard to argue with your partner/kids/inlaws when you’re singing at the same time.
Denmark’s most popular Christmas songs include “Højt fra træets grønne top” (High From The Tree’s Green Top), “Nu det jul igen” (Now It’s Christmas Again) and, my favourite, “Sikken voldsom trængsel og alarm” (or: What A Terrible Hustle And Bustle!). A song that includes the killer line:
“It’s good when the church sermon is boring because then you can take a nap.”
And then? You’re done! The 25th is a day of rest. During Christmas week in Jutland, everything is closed. And I mean EVERYTHING. Denmark shuts down for rest of the holidays so it’s all about getting hygge with family and friends – and making the most of all those leftovers.
I’ll be back next week when I would like to hear all about how you spent your midwinter and will doubtless be longing for tales from the outside world. Until then, we hunker down. We restore. We recoup. We remember where we hid the special Danish marzipan chocolates that we SPECIFICALLY bought to enjoy on Christmas Eve but have apparently now mislaid. We wear elasticated waistbands. We sleep. Or at least, we live in hope.
Vi ses – og god jul!
Helen x
PS: In case you’re at a loss for a last minute gift any child-wranglers in your life, allow me to shamelessly recommend How to Raise a Viking! All my books are available via Bookshop.org (six in total if you want to catch them all, like a game of Pokémon) and there are plenty of recommendations for other authors who you might enjoy on there too. I love a book gift and - spoiler - all my nearest and dearest are ALL getting book-based presents this Christmas. Happy reading!
Clears space on bookshelf for new novel 🥳
Sounds lovely, but I need a tree up for all of December! Well, I did back when we had a house. Now I mostly just enjoy the decorations of whatever city we happen to be living in.