A Winter's Kitchen
Earth is winter's element. Earth is associated with the physical, the
material--the body. When water turns to stone and the trees strip down to
the bone, winter teaches us about honouring our bodies, caring for
them--allowing them to take a healing time-out from our culture's demand
that we produce without ceasing.
We can make our winter kitchens into places of rest, security, and cozy
warmth, and we can celebrate the austere beauty of this season in many
creative ways. When we welcome winter's colours and shapes into our
kitchens, we are really honouring the sacredness of our bodies and of the
planet. The pleasures of making visual connection between ourselves and our
Earth Mother are many.
Before midwinter comes to deck our kitchens with evergreen, you may want
to make a place on your table for a few branches of brown, dry leaves; oak
leaves, for example, often cling to the branch long after they have withered
and beech leaves often stick around all winter long--so even the tardy
among us can collect a few. These leaves become rustling reminders of
earth-coloured beauty, even after they have died.
When all the leaves are gone, bare branches can take their place in a vase
Arranging a bare branch or a perfect rock can evoke the purity and
peacefulness of a Japanese Zen garden. Or you may enjoy creating magickal
little winter landscapes with rocks, moss, crystals (such wondrous bits of
ice that never melt!), and twigs.
Early winter is a perfect time to make or find an earth-toned rag rug to
stand on when you cook or do dishes. As you stand on its firm softness,
think of your own ability to be rooted in the earth. And we can echo the
browns, grays, snow-white, and black of early winter in other ways, as well:
earthen bowls filled with smooth gray stones or deliciously scented,
cinnamon-coloured pomander balls, hand-woven mats in winter colours, prints
of winter landscapes, all help us to embrace this season of stillness and
rest.
You may choose to echo winter's message of sleep by creating a soft burrow
or nest on your kitchen altar, especially if yours is a hibernating power
animal. If your favourite animals stay active during the winter months, you
may want to put out some food for the ones living outside your doors. When
you think about it, so many of our images of winter involve beds and sleep:
we say that snow blankets the earth; even sleet is said to create sheets of
ice! We can warm up our kitchens and make them perfect places to hibernate
by including soft fabrics to curl up in. Our power place may need a special
afghan crocheted by a loving granny, or a blanket woven in soft winter
colours to pull over our shoulders like a prayer shawl as we sit and dream
about winter meals.
When the Winter Solstice arrives, we bring our attention to the green that
never dies. It is traditional and deeply satisfying to fill our kitchens
with holly and the dusky ever-greens of pine and spruce. Evergreens are a
feast for the senses: you may delight in heaping your kitchen with an
abundance of sweet-smelling swags, garlands, and wreaths. And it can be
merry to include a small branch or even a miniature tree on your kitchen
altar. In the spirit of creating cozy burrows and nests for ourselves in
winter, you may consider transforming your kitchen into a real bower of
greenery, tacking branches overhead and all around. When you light a candle
(carefully) in a kitchen bristling with greens, the shadows it casts remind
us of enchanted forests and fairy-tale magick.
Consider hanging reminders of the sun among the green; oranges cut into
quarter-inch rounds and dried make lovely sunny decorations, or you could
string the dried slices along with bay leaves or cinnamon sticks for a
sweet-smelling festive kitchen garland. Dried chili peppers, hung in
bunches or strings, are another food-based Yuletide decoration, and
cranberries are easy to string and hang, too. If you don't want food
hanging around, you could make or buy small golden sun-shapes which often
come in beeswax and small wonderful, to welcome the sun's return, and to
celebrate the promise of our own energetic reemergence in spring.
Greens in midwinter are usually enlivened by splashes of brilliant scarlet
Traditional holly berries, along with rose hips, apples, dried
pomegranates, and staghorn sumac (as well as the aforementioned chili
peppers and cranberries) all add notes of bright colour to our festive
kitchen. Bright orange--in the form of clementines, tangerines, or the
fruit that gave the colour its name--is another colour choice for midwinter,
one that echoes and celebrates the sun. Many of us keep a big bowl heaped
with these healthful, cheery little sun-mimics for our snackers to enjoy
after a day of sledding or skating.
We traditionally celebrate the midwinter season with liberality and bounty
a sort of sympathetic magick to invite some more of the same in the new
year. We can incorporate gold and silver--those ancient symbols of
wealth--into our kitchens with spray-painted nuts, acorns, papier-mâché
fruits, and branches. Or we can go back to the roots of the custom and hide
a few real coins in the bottom of a vase heaped with spruce, or tuck a
folded dollar bill in a wreath made of herbs and bay and juniper, to
encourage prosperity and abundance in the coming year. Take some time in
the kitchen to think about the ways in which we are truly rich. Money is
often the least of our many blessings.
Even more than the emphasis on undying evergreen and golden prosperity
magick, the Winter Solstice season is a festival of light. At the darkest
time of the year we need reminders that the sun will return, that it will
slowly strengthen, eventually bringing spring to lighten our lives once
again. A few extra candles (especially handmade or hand-decorated ones)
make wonderful additions to our kitchens. Check the Hispanic section of
your local grocery store to see if they carry large votives in glass: these
make inexpensive and long-lasting decorations--just tie some raffia or
ribbon around them and tuck in some sprigs of greenery or a few twigs.
Strings of electric lights, looped above cabinets or wound around a wreath
on the wall, can also be great fun. And besides the plain white or
multi-coloured bare-bulb types, there are some great shaped lights to choose
from: chili pepper ones seem perfectly made for kitchens, and I've even seen
tiny teapot lights that would look right at home over the table or sink. It
is also possible to find lights shaped like various power animals.
While it's fun to decorate with lights and greens, it is also vitally
important to honour or need for rest and stillness amid the frenzy of the
cultural winter holiday. As one friends says, the whole place gets lit up
like a casino at Christmas but what I really crave is darkness and quiet.
Try to take a few minutes every day for quiet time. Wait a few minutes
after dark to turn on your holiday lights. Start a simple, soothing teatime
ritual to welcome children home from school on bitter cold days, or create a
late-night Dark Time for yourself in the kitchen: after you turn off all the
lights for bed, sit in your power place in the dark and breathe quietly for
a few minutes. You will be surprised by the difference those few minutes
will make.
In late winter we begin to think about emerging from our winter
hibernation. You may want to include some opalescent colours in your late
winter kitchen to remind you of the ice that will soon be thawing, the snow
that will melt into spring. One friend hangs crystal points around her
kitchen in January like little magickal icicles.
The kitchen is the perfect place for forcing a few flower bulbs placed in
vases, bowls of water, or shallow bowls of smooth stones. If you start them
in early January, they may bloom in time for Imbolc, inspiring symbols of
life's dauntless power to return again and again.
from Cooking Like a Goddess by Cait Johnson
Free Forum Hosting
First 
