An English Christmas explained

A Christmas Cracker, a staple of English Christmas, was made by Londoner Tom Smith. Photo credit: Sparkly Kate / Flickr

Staying true to its cosmopolitan nature, an amalgamation of imports greets a Christmas in the capital.

Like the Royal family, many of our traditions have been snatched from Germany: Christmas trees, glühwein and stollen cake, and even advent calendars.

But distinctly English elements remain, which baffle newcomers who spend the day in London.
On Christmas morning, with stockings discarded and wrapping paper littering the lounge, families and friends sit down for dinner and pull their crackers.

English folk fail to notice anything strange in donning rainbow-coloured paper hats like kings, reading jokes written by delinquents, and playing with plastic toys made for two-year-olds. It all stems back to Londoner Tom Smith, who in the 1840s used the gimmick of pretty wrapping and words to save his failing bon bon business. It worked, so unfold that paper crown and pass the gravy.

With piles of turkey, stuffing, parsnips, and a plethora of pigs in blankets, it was hoped that brussel sprouts could by now have been forgotten. But alas, they endure.

Filled with sweet alcohol, all English mums have their favourite Christmas pudding recipies. Photo credit: Matt Riggott / Flickr

Despite the majority’s distaste for this tiny green cabbage, they somehow make it to the dinner table every year, and onto everyone’s plate. Prepare yourself with the Attack of the Sprouts game.

But a sweet treat will follow, with the arrival of the hot Christmas pudding. Traditionalists still prepare the pud weeks in advance, leaving the fruit to soak up the spices, and then steaming it for hours on Christmas day. The topping is an integral part; soaked in brandy and set alight, or drizzled with brandy butter, or creamy custard.

After Christmas dinner

All must be consumed by 3pm, when Her Majesty takes to the airwaves and internet and telly to bring good tidings to the Commonwealth. The content is largely obsolete; the Queen’s Speech merely marks the shift from table to television just as the grey sky (for it is always grey) darkens. An alternative can be found on Channel 4, who since the nineties have broadcast everyone from Marge Simpson to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

After musing on the Royal reflections, flick through a copy of the Radio Times Christmas issue – which will list the reappearance of favourite films and comedy duos from years gone by. Be charmed by Wallace and Gromit, and avoid the melodrama of British soap operas, outdoing each other in scenes of social breakdown.

A couple of hours drift by before someone opens another box of Cadbury’s Roses, and the octogenarians in the room hunt out the sherry and the port.

Late night games

To wrap up your English Christmas experience, have a nice mince pie. Photo credit: Girl Interrupted Eating / Flickr

As evening draws in night, whether it is Scrabble, Monopoly, or something a little less timeless, no amount of technological advancement will prevent the appearance of the board game.

Warm mince pies keep the players playing, which for many years have had nothing to do with mince-meat at all. Packed with dried fruit and parceled in pasty, they vie for attention with Christmas cake. The latter however is merely fruit cake dressed up with a tartan ribbon and a festive message scrawled onto white icing.

The elderly snoring on the sofa marks the close of Christmas day. And so to bed.

To wake on Boxing Day, which once was used to give boxes or gifts to the poor or the workers. Now it exists as an overspill of Christmas, with turkey sandwiches, and television, and one more mince pie.