Christmas Cheer from Paloma & Fig

Christmas Cheer from Paloma & Fig

Please enjoy a selection of Christmas memories, traditions, photos, and favorites from the Paloma & Fig team. We wish you the most beautiful time as we approach the Nativity of Our Lord. May peace be with you at the end of Advent and through the Christmas season!

Every year, for as long as I can remember, my family has been decorating the entire house in one day together right after Thanksgiving. We don’t typically do anything else on Black Friday. Between the leftover Thanksgiving food and the classic Christmas songs we play on speakers in the background, it’s always something I look forward to. It doesn’t feel like the Advent season starts (or rather, is about to start soon) until we all gather together and hear that music as we pick out what to put on the tree and every other room.
—Elizabeth Hamonko, Contributing Writer 

My husband’s grandmother’s clafoutis has become one of our many cherished traditions during our relationship, but it’s somewhat of a guarded recipe, so we’ll settle for this one here. Among my other favorites for this time of year are Sally’s McKenney’s quick soft pretzels, this slightly less sweet take on the classic New York Times plum torte, and cinnamon rolls. If I can spend a day making all of these with “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming” on loop, it’s a perfect day for me. Christmas is a quiet, joyous occasion in our home, centered around food and prayer. We always watch Gelsey Kirkland and Mikhail Baryshnikov’s 1977 Nutcracker on Christmas Eve—available on Youtube here—attend Mass at midnight, and then begin Ingmar Bergman’s Fanny and Alexander on Christmas morning, which takes a number of happy days to complete.

Our first baby will be a month old this Christmas. I’m anticipating less baking, but I’m over the moon that Christmas Mass will most likely be our very first outing as a family of three. Glory to God in the highest—we are so grateful. 🤍
—Franci Revel Eckensberger, Lead Editor

I grew up with a large, Lebanese, extended family spending every Sunday lunch at a table together eating from overflowing plates while competing for funniest (or most annoying) cousin. Now that we are older, many of us in my generation have moved away, and so Christmas lunch is a cherished family memory reminiscent of Heaven: everyone together again at table. I also would be remiss if I did not mention our family Christmas concerts. On Christmas night, after all the eating, laughing, and present opening, my family gathers to perform an impromptu concert of our favorite Christmas carols. These concerts end up being either incredibly moving or hilarious as many of us have not performed, played, or sung for a real audience in years—but you best believe my cousin’s 90s clarinet is still kicking.
—Rietta Parker, Contributing Writer

Christmas at “The Shire”

By early December, the kitchen at The Shire hums with sugar and spice. Our little yellow house has the biggest yard in the neighborhood and enough trees to make it feel like a woodland tucked inside suburbia. My mom’s garden has long since outgrown its title. It’s more like a jungle, fat and happy with milkweed, elephant ears, and hibiscus, a riot of native Florida colors. Somewhere out back, my dad’s probably in his studio, shaping clay into his latest sculpture or firing up the kiln in the shed.

Inside, the air itself feels sugared. Dark chocolate melts on the stove while someone stirs in marshmallows that never seem to last long enough to cool. My mom’s oatmeal cookies (soft, crumbly, gone within minutes) are a delicacy. If our home were a confectionery, there’d be a line around the block for Mama’s cookies.

For Advent, Mama (affectionately dubbed The Good Mama) used to sketch a Visio Divina each night on the whiteboard for us kids to ponder. Before dinner, we’d gather around the table, light the wreath, and take turns reading prayers by candlelight, one sibling after another. 

When the temperature finally dips below what we Floridians call “yikes, it’s chilly,” we drag logs to the front yard, light a bonfire, and send word to the neighbors. There’s usually homemade Christmas sangria, what seems like a million and one folding chairs, and my garage sale acoustic guitar.

On Christmas Eve, we meet downtown with my high school creative writing teacher, now a dear family friend, to carol with a local outreach group. It’s cold, but it’s warm. We sing from shelter to shelter, until we reach the Nativity Scene in downtown St. Petersburg. 

By New Year’s Eve, the house slows down again. Hynes tradition dictates cinnamon toast at midnight; a ritual born when my brother John, a toddler with very specific midnight cravings, demanded something sweet to ring in the new year. We’ve made it every December since. Some things stick (and not just to the plate).
—Marge Hynes, Paloma & Fig Copywriter 

Have a Merry Christmas!