It can be easy to assume we all enjoy the same things about this time of year, when lights are twinkling on crisp, cold evenings, and the smell of a turf fire and musical memories from Christmases past ignite all the festive feels.
Having asked our colleagues across the Irish Farmers Journal team to share some of their favourite Christmas memories and traditions, it does appear that Christmas dinner – both the preparation and consumption of – is high on people’s lists of the tried and tested rituals that cannot and should not be tinkered with.
Adam Woods, deputy editor, Irish Farmers Journal
When I was a boy we spent Christmas with my granny, who lived on my uncle’s farm. The excitement would build on Christmas Eve when we’d see all the fodder piling up in front of the barrier, so that the animals would get a good feed then, and the jobs on Christmas morning would be kept to the bare minimum. It would allow everyone to get to church and we weren’t under as much pressure.
As I got older, the big novelty was being out into the yard to do the jobs on Christmas morning, as everyone else would be in their good clothes and wouldn’t want to get dirty. I also remember the rows every year about the ‘carpet farming’ where we’d have all our toy tractors and machinery on the living room floor and people would be tripping over them and we’d get a telling off.
Adam Woods deputy editor, Irish Farmers Journal.
Tommy Moyles, journalist, Irish Farmers Journal
Wham’s, Last Christmas, coming on the car radio in early-December, with Chris Rea’s Driving home for Christmas on the same trip, signals the start of the festive season for me. I’m not a huge Christmas fan – but I’ve always enjoyed the songs.
Once I could drive, Christmas morning breakfast in my grandparents’ home, when cousins and neighbours called in after Mass, became a favourite Christmas tradition. I’d do the yard work around it but timing was always a problem. Breakfast at 11.30am was OK for the locals when dinner in Ardfield was 4pm. But dinner time in Ballinascarthy with my parents was always at 1pm. Add in the fact that you can’t leave Clonakilty black pudding behind you, meant I was a strong contender for the first to be beaten by the Christmas feasting.
A small person in the house has reignited a Yuletide spark in me and created some new traditions and the excitement in the run in to Christmas, has been great fun.
Other than that, work is kept to an absolute minimum and I enjoy not knowing what day it is for a week.
Tommy Moyles journalist, Irish Farmers Journal.
Clodagh Carey, events manager, Irish Farmers Journal
When I recall Christmas growing up, I think of trips to see Santa in Shaws, shopping on 8 December and trying to keep the freshly cut Christmas tree standing straight in a bucket of sand. While those are great memories to have, the Christmas Day feast at home holds the most tradition for me.
Being the youngest of five, I have spent every Christmas Day in my home house, surrounded by an ever-growing family. Masterminded by my mother Eileen, she fills the kitchen with familiar aromas from early morning. Like most houses, turkey is the centre of the day, but it is the trimmings that are held most dearly by us – gravy and roasties are replaced with bread sauce and golden potato balls.
After Mass on Christmas Eve is when Mam comes into her own with the preparation of simple ingredients of potato, butter and onion as well as insisting in hand crumbing a loaf of bread – as the sauce will taste nicer. This is the highlight of every Christmas dinner and a tradition that we hope will live on through the generations.
Clodagh Carey, Events Manager, Irish Farmers Journal
Deirdre Verney, deputy editor, Irish Country Living
To me, Christmas is a time of lovely stillness after all the frenetic madness of the previous weeks. Enjoying simple things like gathering with family and friends for Christmas dinner, the festive card game of 25 or walking through frosty fields.
In my childhood we kept turkeys so December was busy, to say the least with everyone involved. In more recent years, it has become a quieter time and I normally go to Christmas Day Mass in St Brendan’s church in Birr, before completing the Goal mile in the Square, which whets the appetite for the festive feast to come.
This year however I will be away for Christmas. I know I will miss everyone at home but I’m looking forward to catching up with Grace and Conor in Melbourne and flying on to Oxford, New Zealand where my brother John and partner Anthea live with my nephews Ryan and Jack, who I’m sure are looking forward to what Santa brings them over their summer holidays.
Deirdre Verney deputy editor, Irish Country Living.
Lorcan Roche Kelly,
agribusiness editor, Irish Farmers Journal
Christmas has always been a big family occasion, with elbow-room only at the dining table on Christmas Day when everyone sits down to a traditional turkey and ham spread. However, one of my favourite Christmas traditions happens weeks before the big day. My mother makes two Christmas puddings every year – one for the main event and another for Nollaig na mBan – and the mixing of the ingredients is a family affair.
When all the ingredients for the rich treat are together in her biggest baking bowl, everyone in the household takes a turn giving the mixture three stirs, starting with the eldest and working down to the youngest.
The event occurs weeks ahead of the big day, but for me growing up, and even today, it always marked the start of Christmas.
Lorcan Roche Kelly, agribusiness editor, Irish Farmers Journal.
Diarmuid Nugent, intern, Irish Country Living
When I think of Christmas Eve growing up, I always remember the feeling of coming home from evening Mass. We do not make it every single year now, but when we did, that quiet drive back felt like the moment Christmas really settled in. As soon as we got through the door, we were allowed to open one present. Just one. It was such a small thing, yet it made the whole night feel full of promise.
My mam has always been the heart of our family traditions. For years she bought us all matching pyjamas and gathered us in front of the Christmas tree for a wonderfully cheesy family photo. Even as adults, we still lean into it. We might not all live under the same roof anymore, but we still line up in front of the tree, these days in matching T-shirts and Santa hats. It is simple, a bit silly, and completely ours.
Diarmuid Nugent, intern, Irish Country Living.
Kate Brennan Harding,
podcast producer, Irish Farmers Journal
I love Christmas, I love how the dark winter nights are brightened up by twinkling lights, how towns and cities come alive with old pals reconnecting. When I was a child, we used to spend Christmas Eve visiting grandaunts and pals of my mum. Those days are gone, but the tradition of Christmas Eve catch-ups is still very much alive. I adore heading into Dublin city centre just ahead of sunset, to wander down Grafton Street, having a hot port along the way, soaking up the atmosphere.
On Christmas morning, I wake to the aroma of onions frying as my mum makes a start on her famous stuffing, we might have a coffee and a sherry of course! I think that’s my favourite time – the early part of the day, with Christmas tunes on the radio. We always listen to Frank Kelly’s Christmas Countdown and lose our minds laughing. We are a three types of starters family – corn on the cob, prawn cocktail and paté – one year my mum tried to change this – there was carnage!
When it comes to our traditions, they have evolved as comfort in remembering times gone by, and people who are no longer with us. So, after digesting the dinner, it is Trivial Pursuit and trifle time. But my most favourite tradition, is the midnight dinner sandwich, which has to include mashed turnip and gravy, along with the turkey and ham washed down with a glass of milk.
Kate Brennan Harding, podcast producer, Irish Farmers Journal.
Carlos García Bertoncini, Irish Farmers Journal picture desk
In Spain, there is a New Year’s Eve tradition in which all families have dinner together for the last meal of the year and wait until 11.45pm.
Once that time has arrived, everyone begins to prepare 12 peeled grapes and place them on small plates, and a bottle of champagne is brought out.
In all towns, cities, and localities, in main squares and town halls, especially in Madrid, Barcelona, Seville, and Las Palmas de Gran Canaria – which are televised nationally – people gather with their grapes and champagne. During the last 12 seconds of the year, instead of simply counting down, they eat 12 grapes – one for each second.
At midnight, the new year has begun, the champagne is opened and a toast is made. Then, the party begins. Young people put on their best clothes and suits, for the first big celebration of the year.
The 12 grapes are a symbol of hope and luck – the champagne is a celebration for those who are here and a toast to those who are no longer with us. The party that follows is a reminder that no matter what this new year may bring, we must celebrate life itself, in the streets and with those we love most. Something that is very intrinsically Spanish.
Carlos García Bertoncini, Irish Farmers Journal picture desk.
It can be easy to assume we all enjoy the same things about this time of year, when lights are twinkling on crisp, cold evenings, and the smell of a turf fire and musical memories from Christmases past ignite all the festive feels.
Having asked our colleagues across the Irish Farmers Journal team to share some of their favourite Christmas memories and traditions, it does appear that Christmas dinner – both the preparation and consumption of – is high on people’s lists of the tried and tested rituals that cannot and should not be tinkered with.
Adam Woods, deputy editor, Irish Farmers Journal
When I was a boy we spent Christmas with my granny, who lived on my uncle’s farm. The excitement would build on Christmas Eve when we’d see all the fodder piling up in front of the barrier, so that the animals would get a good feed then, and the jobs on Christmas morning would be kept to the bare minimum. It would allow everyone to get to church and we weren’t under as much pressure.
As I got older, the big novelty was being out into the yard to do the jobs on Christmas morning, as everyone else would be in their good clothes and wouldn’t want to get dirty. I also remember the rows every year about the ‘carpet farming’ where we’d have all our toy tractors and machinery on the living room floor and people would be tripping over them and we’d get a telling off.
Adam Woods deputy editor, Irish Farmers Journal.
Tommy Moyles, journalist, Irish Farmers Journal
Wham’s, Last Christmas, coming on the car radio in early-December, with Chris Rea’s Driving home for Christmas on the same trip, signals the start of the festive season for me. I’m not a huge Christmas fan – but I’ve always enjoyed the songs.
Once I could drive, Christmas morning breakfast in my grandparents’ home, when cousins and neighbours called in after Mass, became a favourite Christmas tradition. I’d do the yard work around it but timing was always a problem. Breakfast at 11.30am was OK for the locals when dinner in Ardfield was 4pm. But dinner time in Ballinascarthy with my parents was always at 1pm. Add in the fact that you can’t leave Clonakilty black pudding behind you, meant I was a strong contender for the first to be beaten by the Christmas feasting.
A small person in the house has reignited a Yuletide spark in me and created some new traditions and the excitement in the run in to Christmas, has been great fun.
Other than that, work is kept to an absolute minimum and I enjoy not knowing what day it is for a week.
Tommy Moyles journalist, Irish Farmers Journal.
Clodagh Carey, events manager, Irish Farmers Journal
When I recall Christmas growing up, I think of trips to see Santa in Shaws, shopping on 8 December and trying to keep the freshly cut Christmas tree standing straight in a bucket of sand. While those are great memories to have, the Christmas Day feast at home holds the most tradition for me.
Being the youngest of five, I have spent every Christmas Day in my home house, surrounded by an ever-growing family. Masterminded by my mother Eileen, she fills the kitchen with familiar aromas from early morning. Like most houses, turkey is the centre of the day, but it is the trimmings that are held most dearly by us – gravy and roasties are replaced with bread sauce and golden potato balls.
After Mass on Christmas Eve is when Mam comes into her own with the preparation of simple ingredients of potato, butter and onion as well as insisting in hand crumbing a loaf of bread – as the sauce will taste nicer. This is the highlight of every Christmas dinner and a tradition that we hope will live on through the generations.
Clodagh Carey, Events Manager, Irish Farmers Journal
Deirdre Verney, deputy editor, Irish Country Living
To me, Christmas is a time of lovely stillness after all the frenetic madness of the previous weeks. Enjoying simple things like gathering with family and friends for Christmas dinner, the festive card game of 25 or walking through frosty fields.
In my childhood we kept turkeys so December was busy, to say the least with everyone involved. In more recent years, it has become a quieter time and I normally go to Christmas Day Mass in St Brendan’s church in Birr, before completing the Goal mile in the Square, which whets the appetite for the festive feast to come.
This year however I will be away for Christmas. I know I will miss everyone at home but I’m looking forward to catching up with Grace and Conor in Melbourne and flying on to Oxford, New Zealand where my brother John and partner Anthea live with my nephews Ryan and Jack, who I’m sure are looking forward to what Santa brings them over their summer holidays.
Deirdre Verney deputy editor, Irish Country Living.
Lorcan Roche Kelly,
agribusiness editor, Irish Farmers Journal
Christmas has always been a big family occasion, with elbow-room only at the dining table on Christmas Day when everyone sits down to a traditional turkey and ham spread. However, one of my favourite Christmas traditions happens weeks before the big day. My mother makes two Christmas puddings every year – one for the main event and another for Nollaig na mBan – and the mixing of the ingredients is a family affair.
When all the ingredients for the rich treat are together in her biggest baking bowl, everyone in the household takes a turn giving the mixture three stirs, starting with the eldest and working down to the youngest.
The event occurs weeks ahead of the big day, but for me growing up, and even today, it always marked the start of Christmas.
Lorcan Roche Kelly, agribusiness editor, Irish Farmers Journal.
Diarmuid Nugent, intern, Irish Country Living
When I think of Christmas Eve growing up, I always remember the feeling of coming home from evening Mass. We do not make it every single year now, but when we did, that quiet drive back felt like the moment Christmas really settled in. As soon as we got through the door, we were allowed to open one present. Just one. It was such a small thing, yet it made the whole night feel full of promise.
My mam has always been the heart of our family traditions. For years she bought us all matching pyjamas and gathered us in front of the Christmas tree for a wonderfully cheesy family photo. Even as adults, we still lean into it. We might not all live under the same roof anymore, but we still line up in front of the tree, these days in matching T-shirts and Santa hats. It is simple, a bit silly, and completely ours.
Diarmuid Nugent, intern, Irish Country Living.
Kate Brennan Harding,
podcast producer, Irish Farmers Journal
I love Christmas, I love how the dark winter nights are brightened up by twinkling lights, how towns and cities come alive with old pals reconnecting. When I was a child, we used to spend Christmas Eve visiting grandaunts and pals of my mum. Those days are gone, but the tradition of Christmas Eve catch-ups is still very much alive. I adore heading into Dublin city centre just ahead of sunset, to wander down Grafton Street, having a hot port along the way, soaking up the atmosphere.
On Christmas morning, I wake to the aroma of onions frying as my mum makes a start on her famous stuffing, we might have a coffee and a sherry of course! I think that’s my favourite time – the early part of the day, with Christmas tunes on the radio. We always listen to Frank Kelly’s Christmas Countdown and lose our minds laughing. We are a three types of starters family – corn on the cob, prawn cocktail and paté – one year my mum tried to change this – there was carnage!
When it comes to our traditions, they have evolved as comfort in remembering times gone by, and people who are no longer with us. So, after digesting the dinner, it is Trivial Pursuit and trifle time. But my most favourite tradition, is the midnight dinner sandwich, which has to include mashed turnip and gravy, along with the turkey and ham washed down with a glass of milk.
Kate Brennan Harding, podcast producer, Irish Farmers Journal.
Carlos García Bertoncini, Irish Farmers Journal picture desk
In Spain, there is a New Year’s Eve tradition in which all families have dinner together for the last meal of the year and wait until 11.45pm.
Once that time has arrived, everyone begins to prepare 12 peeled grapes and place them on small plates, and a bottle of champagne is brought out.
In all towns, cities, and localities, in main squares and town halls, especially in Madrid, Barcelona, Seville, and Las Palmas de Gran Canaria – which are televised nationally – people gather with their grapes and champagne. During the last 12 seconds of the year, instead of simply counting down, they eat 12 grapes – one for each second.
At midnight, the new year has begun, the champagne is opened and a toast is made. Then, the party begins. Young people put on their best clothes and suits, for the first big celebration of the year.
The 12 grapes are a symbol of hope and luck – the champagne is a celebration for those who are here and a toast to those who are no longer with us. The party that follows is a reminder that no matter what this new year may bring, we must celebrate life itself, in the streets and with those we love most. Something that is very intrinsically Spanish.
Carlos García Bertoncini, Irish Farmers Journal picture desk.
SHARING OPTIONS