Christmas Eve

The day before Christmas Day, I was whisked off into the local mountains to spend Christmas Eve with a large family group. It was truly, one of the most amazing experiences of my life. 

The horse shoe shaped table was set for 26 people. Four generations were represented.

In the foreground is a bizarre wooden contraption. When the candles are lit the hot air rises and turns the propellor at the top. Little figurines adorn the structure that has a resemblance to the tower of Pizza. It was a gift from Germany. Each year the families give a Christmas gift. The sentiments are to show that the second World War is passed. Grudges are not held tight.

The festivities were held in a basement. It was traditionally where the sheep, cows and horses were kept over winter. 

The fireplace roared and it created a very homely scene.

The table was prepared with before dinner nibbles.

   

There was a selection of bouches or chocolate logs for desert.

 There was a huge selection of fruit, dried fruit and nuts for desert. My pathetic contribution to this feast was 8 tiny fat meringue snowmen. They were somewhat dwarfed by the walnuts.

The tradition here, is to arrange little figurines into a scene where baby Jesus is born. The figurines are representative of the country folk in Southern France. Baby Jesus is a tiny speck in the right of the photo. The scene is called a crèche. Some homes, just have the crèche and no Christmas tree at all.

There was a lot of walnuts to be eaten. They were held in what was the area where hay was kept for the animals.

  

 Here is a close up of the table setting.

This is a yoke for the horse in days gone by.

This is the roof of the room where the meal was held. It literally was a cave. There was no glamour where I was concerned. I wore a very warm, cosy, large polar fleece jacket that I had borrowed. A huge contrast to the bright, floral summer dress that I traditionally wear on Christmas Day.

I was delighted to get a snapshot of myself and the matriarch. She was hard of hearing, but a powerhouse of personality. I was deeply honoured to be included in this traditional family gathering.

In between courses, I was shown another part of the chateau. It was an area where one of the families came for their holidays to spend time with her parents. The room had that cave-like cosiness feel.

Every tiny space in the kitchen was utilised to the max.

 The meal was many, many courses. There was so much happiness, loud talking and lots of laughter.

All the courses were traditional dishes from this area of France. We ate vegetables and fish. Christmas Eve is called, reveillon. You eat lightly before the main event the next day, Christmas Day.

I was treated so well. I was included in all conversations. When it came to dishing up, I was always given the first serving. Everything was explained to me in simple french. I was always encouraged to have seconds. They were very keen for me to eat heaps, try everything and have copious seconds. The deep, rich wine was superb. iIt was hand made by one of the couples that dined with us.

The cheese platter was groaning with fresh cheese. I politely tasted a small amount. I knew that the raw, untreated cheese could potentially play havoc with my stomach. The rest of the people ate huge amounts of a variety of cheeses from this platter. It was consumed with a huge green salad.

Then came the phone call from Père Noël to say that he was on his way to the Chateau to deliver the presents. The kids rushed upstairs to have a look out the window to see if they could see him out the window.  They sang songs together whilst waiting for him to arrive.

By the time we went back downstairs again, Père Noël had already been and gone. He left a whole lot of presents for the kids!

 Then chaos followed as a riot erupted as all the presents were opened simultaneously.

It was very, very late. 

Next was coffee, chocolates and liqueur. 

We all sat around the table, relaxed, tired, full and quite low key. Eventually, family groups started leaving.  What an incredible Christmas Eve! I will never forget it. Little did I know that the evening was not over yet.