LYNDA HALLINAN
Lynda Hallinan relishes red, white and green of a Kiwi Christmas and suggests ideas for gifts from the garden.
a Kiwi garden celebration
Deck the halls with boughs of Osmanthus heterophyllus, fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la! Okay, I concede that my alternative lyrics for that classic carol mightn’t be as catchy as getting all jolly over boughs of English holly, but here in the Southern Hemisphere we’ve always had a slightly different take on Christmas, haven’t we? Instead of snowflakes, eggnog and swags of pine cones and holly berries, we make do with snow-white pavlovas, lolly logs, ice-cream cones and summer strawberries.
I’ve never experienced a “proper” Christmas, as my English expat friends like to call their Yuletide celebrations. Consequently, my idea of a traditional red, white and green festive season is one inspired by craggy pohutukawa in bloom along our coastlines, waxy new potatoes dug straight from the garden and tall jugs of minty mojito cocktails – and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
And, really, what could be more quintessentially Kiwi than a Christmas pavlova topped with ripe berries and kitschy kiwifruit mandalas? My pavs generally collapse in the middle – they’re invariably more caldera than towering meringue mountain – but there’s nothing that can’t be fixed with sinful peaks of whipped cream and edible embellishments such as nectarrich pohutukawa blossoms, shaggy dianthus, nasturtiums, rose petals, alyssum, sky-blue borage and fresh mint leaves.
When I was growing up, Christmas was a communal affair with all our aunts, uncles and cousins coming to our farm for the day. Mum and Dad raised the ham, Uncle John brought green beans and spuds, Uncle Ash made fried rice (he’s part-Chinese), Aunty Kay turned out a posh salad and Grandma came bearing gifts of plum jam, scroggin and apple shortcake. Every year without fail the turkey was overcooked, we all ate far too much trifle, someone invariably got their knickers in a twist, someone else drank too much and, if it was sunny, we’d all begrudgingly trundle
off down the farm to help haul in a truckload of freshly baled hay.
In more recent years, there has been a changing of the guard and my sister and I now share the hosting duties. Last year we bravely dispensed with the formal sit-down dinner in favour of a Champagne breakfast of champions. You name it, we ate it: sausages, bacon, eggs, hollandaise, smoked salmon, saveloys, mushrooms, tomatoes, garlic bread, fruit cake, trifle and pavlova. (Pudding for breakfast? Well, why not? If you wait until you’ve eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner – and all the goodies Santa stuffed into your sacks – there’s rarely any room, or enthusiasm, for dessert.)
By 10am on Christmas morning, we were full of food and good cheer, leaving nothing on the agenda bar the opening of presents, another glass of bubbles and a nap on the couch.
Christmas needn’t be stressful, and that extends to decorating your home. Instead of fighting the crowds at the shopping malls, go foraging for an eco-friendly festive season.
For starters, ditch those cheap plastic baubles and shiny strands of tinsel for edible Christmas tree decorations such as candy canes, citrus pomanders studded with cloves, popcorn strands, giant marshmallows, gingerbread biscuits and windfall apples. (When Kiwi conservationist Shannon Zaloum recently joined an international clean-up of plastic along the coastline of Roatán Island off Honduras, she was gobsmacked to see Christmas decorations floating alongside straws, toothbrushes, shoes and single-use drink bottles.)
Make festive wreaths from sturdy sprigs of fresh foliage from your garden, rather than quick-to-wilt flowers, and save yourself the hassle of fussing about with heavy blocks of non-biodegradable floral foam. Those crumbling slabs of oasis contain both plastics and chemical toxins, so opt for a reusable woven willow or cane wreath frame instead. You can pick these up cheaply from craft stores and op shops. You don’t need any special floristry skills but here’s a tip: work your way around the wreath,
pressing the sprigs in firmly so they are all pointing in the same direction, for a gap-free finish.
You could plant a hedge of classic English holly (Ilex aquifolium) to hack back for Christmas floral work, but this English stalwart is so terribly slow growing that I can never bring myself to cut it. Instead, I use the spiky-leafed holly lookalike Osmanthus heterophyllus, which grows at three times the pace to form a wonderful glossy green hedge.
Known as false holly and fragrant tea olive, Osmanthus is the spitting image of holly but has the added bonus of small but intensely perfumed white flowers that fill your garden – and your home – with the smell of ripe apricots and honey. The essential oils distilled from all those tiny snowy petals are prized by renowned French parfumiers, and osmanthus oil is said to stimulate our happiness hormones when inhaled, making for a truly merry Christmas.