Bringing Back Old Traditions: A Winter Solstice Kitchen Table Story

As the days shorten and the air turns crisp, there’s something deeply comforting about marking the changing seasons, not just with décor or festive events, but with old traditions that invite us to pause, gather, and reflect.

The Winter Solstice

The Winter Solstice, falling on December 21st or 22nd in the Northern Hemisphere, marks the longest night and the return of the sun. For our Celtic ancestors, this wasn’t just a date on a calendar; it was a sacred turning point. A time to gather close to the hearth, to light candles, and to honour the quiet wisdom of winter. They knew that after this night, light would slowly begin to return, and with it, the promise of new life.

In the kitchen, this was often a time to use what was on hand, storing root vegetables, dried herbs, preserved fruits. Nothing fancy. Just hearty, nourishing food to bring warmth and cheer. Think spiced cider, oatcakes, roasted nuts; simple but celebratory.

Rowan Twig Burning: A Humble Act of Protection

One lesser-known tradition involves the burning of rowan twigs. In Celtic folklore, the rowan tree was believed to offer protection from harm. People would tie red thread around the twigs and burn them in the fire, offering a quiet moment to release what no longer served them and invite strength for the months ahead. There was no need for an elaborate ceremony, just intention, a warm fire, and the comfort of being home.

You could easily bring this tradition to your fireplace or wood stove this year. Or, if fire isn’t an option, even tying a bit of thread around a twig and placing it somewhere meaningful can carry the same sentiment.

Krampus: The Winter Shadow

While we’re familiar with jolly Saint Nick, old European traditions also made room for a darker winter character - Krampus. With roots in Alpine folklore, Krampus wasn’t evil, but served as a reminder of balance. While Saint Nicholas rewarded good behaviour, Krampus warned against mischief. It was a way for communities to tell stories about cause and effect, responsibility, and the natural cycle of light and dark.

Today, Krampus traditions have been revived in many parts of Europe, not to scare children, but to honour the richness of storytelling and the full spectrum of human nature. Even just mentioning Krampus over dinner can lead to interesting conversations about how we frame morality, consequences, and celebration.

There’s something grounding about inviting these older rhythms and stories into our homes, especially during a season that often becomes overly busy or commercial. Whether it’s lighting a candle at sunset on the solstice, baking something with intention, or learning about lesser-known folklore, these small acts can anchor us.

Traditions don’t have to be perfect or performative. They just need to feel real.

So maybe this year, you roast something simple, gather those you love, and let the old stories whisper around your kitchen table again.