By Second Christmas with Megan. Second Wigilia at Tom and Linda's. The routine is becoming tradition, which is different from routine — routine is what you do because you always have; tradition is what you do because it matters.
The Wigilia was bigger this year. Patrick and Colleen came — their second year — and this time Colleen brought not just soda bread but also a trifle, which is not a Wigilia food in any tradition but Colleen O'Brien does not care about tradition when dessert is on the line. Linda set the extra place at the table for the unexpected guest. Nobody came to fill it. Nobody ever does. But the place is there because Babcia set it and we set it because she did.
I made the mushroom soup, the pierogi, the fried carp. Tom said grace in his terrible phonetic Polish. Megan held my hand under the table. Patrick snuck a sip of Jameson during the prayer, which Tom saw and pretended not to see. Colleen and Linda argued about whether the poppy seed cake needed more sugar (Colleen) or was perfect (Linda). It was perfect. Linda wins this one every year.
After dinner, Megan and I exchanged gifts. She gave me a pierogi press — a proper one, wooden, hand-carved, from an Etsy shop in Poland. It's beautiful. I will never use it because I make pierogi by hand, the way Babcia did, with my fingers pinching the edges. But I put it on the shelf in the kitchen where I can see it every day because the gesture matters more than the function. I gave Megan a first-edition copy of her favorite novel, which I'd been hunting for since September. She cried. Mission accomplished.
Christmas morning, just the two of us. Pancakes, coffee, the tree lit up, snow falling outside. Perfect. Ordinary and perfect.
The mushroom soup is the heart of Wigilia, but the morning after—Christmas morning, just the two of us, snow coming down outside—that’s when I need something warm in my hands that isn’t about ceremony or tradition but just about feeling good. This cinnamon spiced cider is what I had simmering on the stove while Megan flipped pancakes, and the whole apartment smelled like we’d done everything right. Sometimes the simplest thing you make is the one that stays with you longest.
Cinnamon Spiced Cider
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 8 cups apple cider
- 3 cinnamon sticks
- 6 whole cloves
- 4 whole allspice berries
- 1 orange, sliced into rounds
- 2 tablespoons honey
- 1 star anise
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
Instructions
- Combine the cider and spices. Pour the apple cider into a large saucepan. Add the cinnamon sticks, cloves, allspice berries, and star anise.
- Add the orange and honey. Drop in the orange slices and stir in the honey until dissolved.
- Heat gently. Bring the mixture to a low simmer over medium heat. Do not boil—you want the spices to infuse slowly.
- Simmer and steep. Reduce heat to low and let the cider simmer for 15–20 minutes, stirring occasionally, until fragrant and the flavors have melded.
- Strain and serve. Remove from heat. Strain the cider through a fine-mesh sieve into mugs. Grate a little fresh nutmeg over each serving and garnish with a cinnamon stick if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 140 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 35g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 10mg