Christmas in the City

IN THE DARKENING days and nights of late autumn, as evenings became lit up by myriads of stars in the frosty sky, the thoughts of children turned to Christmas and all its joy and magic.

Coming home from school to a house with the warm scent of spices and baking cakes was an uplifting feeling of great times ahead. The dried fruit had to be soaked in brandy and the nuts and apples chopped up for the steamed Christmas pudding and rich Christmas cake. Each family member shared in stirring the pudding, as it was hard work mixing all the heavy ingredients to the right consistency. The delph bowl was lined with grease-proof paper and buttered inside to prevent sticking, then the heavy mixture was scooped into the 2lb bowl and the greaseproof paper secured with jute twine wrapped twice and knotted tightly.

The pudding was immersed in a large saucepan, half filled with boiling water, and then topped up to the rim with more boiling water to ensure it didn’t crack as the water evaporated as it boiled for hours – a tight lid was put on it and plenty of shillings put in the gas meter to make sure the heat was constant.

Oh! The glorious smell of exotic fruit and spices was tingling to the nostrils and the aroma filled the whole house, a unique sense of warmth and anticipation filled the child’s heart.

Once the pudding had been steamed for hours and then re-wrapped in fresh greaseproof paper it was stored, when cooled down, in a biscuit tin to be used after dinner on Christmas Day.

The iced Christmas cake was made with similar ceremony and it was stored till the magic day arrived.

The extras for Christmas feast included siphons of red lemonade and tins of broken biscuits from Jacob’s. The sherry, whiskey and brandy was bought in the months leading to the big day, and stored up in the sideboard for visitors.

The paper chains were resurrected from the attic and the lovely perforated orange and red star was placed over the light bulb to give a warm glow to the entrance hall. The accordion of heavy tissue paper geometric design chains were very carefully unwound, and put up in the corners of the ceiling in the dining room.

A trip to town on the bus to see the lights and the shop windows, and a visit to Santa before December 8 was a highlight and cause of sleepless nights to eight-year-old me.

Queuing for hours to visit the wonderland of Cleary’s display and getting a present from Santa was a great day out, and clutching my parcel to my chest was necessary in the crush of people all over O’Connell Street. The fairy lights of multi colours were on the big trees and carol singers were at the GPO and lovely happy festive songs made everyone smile as they scurried along Henry Street.

Moore Street was alive with different women outdoing each other with offers of lovely ripe oranges and fresh chickens and rabbits displayed on breadboards on baby’s prams for sale at bargain prices. ‘Get the last of the fresh chickens’ was heard above the general din. The sounds and music intermingled, and gave a great sense of wonder and anticipation to all.

Family presents were practical and functional. Hand-knitted woollen jumpers or winceyette warm pyjamas, no frippery or money wasted on toys. Santa brought toys so children had enough.

DUBLIN FAMILY LIFE in the home with sing songs and recitations as party pieces were the order of the day. All the generations gathered in the sitting room – adults on chairs, children on the floor and someone doing MC. My Uncle Ned was a gifted singer and he did a take on Mario Lanza singing ‘O Sole Mio’ in his own version of Italian. Each person was called on to do their ‘party piece’ and my mother accompanied singers on the mouth organ, my brother played the Jew’s Harp, my Uncle Owen played the banjo, then he sang ‘ The Old Rustic Bridge by the Mill’ and I asked my cousin why was he singing a ‘rusty’ mill!!

The small children danced and Christmas carols and ‘Old Come All Yez’ echoed around the house. The aunties drank sherry, the men drank whisky and the children dived into the broken biscuit tin of gorgeous biscuits, sometimes finding a Mikado or a half-chocolate covered one and having tug-of-war for best one.

Supper time came and kettles were boiled and lots of tasty ham and turkey sandwiches were brought in and more strong tea was served. Sherry trifle followed and it made us children all giddy! The iced cake had been cut up into fingers and a plateful was handed around. Top-ups of more strong tea were called for, and after supper, more singing followed. We all joined in ‘Molly Malone’ as ‘she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow’. It was all about a poverty-stricken young girl selling fish on the streets of Dublin. Us children were all seated on the stairs and I remember crying blobs of tears when poor Molly ‘died of a fever and no one could save her’. I always hated that verse.

The night finished up with ‘Irene Goodnight’ by my younger cousin Edward, with everyone joining in the chorus. Then, warm hats, coats, scarves and gloves were brought down from upstairs – hugs all around – and ‘safe home, God bless and cheerio to all’.

Then time for aunties, uncles and cousins to face the walk home in the dark, starry night full of simple, Dublin Christmas cheer.