The South doesn’t have snow like the classic “Christmas in Connecticut” tableau in the North, but we still go all out for the holiday. Another basic difference between Northerners and Southerners is that Northerners tend to go away in December. Arthur and I always headed for warm places during the holidays. But Southerners stay home, which means we decorate like crazy with magnolia leaves, holly berries, boxwood, and all those greens that are indigenous to the South. And, like our sociable ancestors, we entertain wildly. We enjoy a busy season of cocktail parties and open houses, going from home to home, spreading (and imbibing) good cheer.
The holiday season begins with the tree, which, in my house, is delivered the day after Thanksgiving. Fresh, of course, because the smell of fir is a major part of the Christmas experience. I really don’t care for designer Christmas trees—the ones with special color schemes or coordinated decorations. They have no heart or soul and look as if they belong in a department store. This is the time to get really personal—to emphasize family and build traditions.
Cherish any decorations from previous generations, whether or not you like them. I have ornaments that belonged to my grandparents and red glass balls my mother bought that were on my very first Christmas tree. I also have ornaments that Whitney made as a child, and some that he bought for me. It still makes me laugh to see the mermaid with exposed breasts he gave me when he was a teenager. He thought he was getting away with murder by putting something so risqué on the tree.
I love to buy antique ornaments at auction, especially if they’re nineteenth-century Dresden and made of molded paper. In addition to my newly acquired elephant and among others, I have a beautifully crafted pug dog with a stick in his mouth. Whether an ornament is an antique, a collectible, or a family treasure, I value it because it holds a memory or tells a story, and I enjoy reliving these moments every time I decorate my tree.
While there’s no right or wrong way to trim a tree, here are a few practical tips: If you have a very large tree topper, as I do—I have a giant peacock with a sweeping tail on the top of my very tall tree (doesn’t everybody?)—the best way to attach it is to do so before the tree is set up. Use wire to secure the ornament, whether it’s a star, a bird, or something else that strikes your fancy, then position the tree in its stand.
Next, put on the lights. This year I switched to LED lights. They’re not quite as charming as the old lights, but they are safer. LED lights don’t get hot, they don’t dry out the tree, and you can leave them on for long periods of time.
There’s a method to the way I hang my ornaments. I put the antiques and the family heirlooms in prominent places—then I fill in with the new (and sometimes wacky) ones. I add red or gold beads, which I end up throwing at the tree where I can’t reach, but somehow it ends up looking fine. When I have a lot of time, I like to add strands of popcorn or cranberries.
When I’m finished with the tree, I start assembling the menagerie that has been a family tradition since Whitney was a child. He had several Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed animals he loved. My mother, who could make anything, knitted Christmas hats for them and they were given a place of honor on a little chair by the tree. I have added a few toys from my own childhood (which are now considered rare antiques), including a French Growler and a beautiful stuffed giraffe.
A few years ago, I rescued a camel from a thrift shop. It was made in the 1940s and used to be a part of a nativity scene, but it had been abandoned and was sitting on a shelf, dusty and forgotten. I brought it home and it sits in front of my tree, waiting for the arrival of a wise man, just like me.
I can never resist a Steiff animal. Not only are they beautifully made and incredibly lifelike, but they have a wonderful history. Margarete Steiff was a German seamstress who suffered from polio as a child. Despite the fact that she could use only one hand, she learned to sew. A stuffed fabric elephant—a pincushion, actually—was her first creation, followed by bears and the other Steiff toys we love today. Her motto was, “Only the best is good enough for children.”
It wouldn’t be Christmas without my mechanical toys. I started my kitschy collection years ago with the iguana who sings “Feliz Navidad,” and I just kept going. I have dogs, a flamingo, and a flower pot that belts out “Rockin’ around the Christmas Tree.” I gave one of these pots to an English friend who carried it home on the plane. Every time there was turbulence, I’m told, the pot started singing. I imagine it was a memorable flight.
The stockings are hung by the chimney with care: my mother needlepointed exquisite ones for the family, and each dog has one hanging from the fireplace in the kitchen. I also decorate the outside of the house with fresh garlands and wreaths. Williamsburg wreaths are very popular here in the South, and their distinguishing feature is that they’re adorned with fruit. When I have time and I’m feeling creative, I make them myself. It reminds me of my childhood Christmases in Virginia.
Buy a fir wreath and several apples, pears, lemons, and a pineapple. Cut the pineapple in half, from top to bottom. Position the fruit on the wreath, pineapple halves on the bottom, and secure with strong, flexible wire. They’re fun to make, but if you want something more professional, Williamsburg wreaths can be ordered from ColonialWilliamsburg.com.
I also enjoy the Christmassy fragrance of pomander balls and the Nutcracker look of sugared fruit. They are easy to make at home as well.
Start with a firm orange, and use a nut pick to make tiny holes. Insert whole cloves in the holes, covering the orange.
Mix 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, 1 teaspoon ground cloves, 1 tablespoon ground nutmeg, and 1 tablespoon allspice. Add ¼ cup powdered orris root (available from a pharmacy). Roll the orange in the mix and let it sit for a week, turning daily. Tie with a festive red ribbon and enjoy the scent!
Assemble an assortment of fruit, including strawberries, pears, apples, and grapes. Wash and dry thoroughly.
Brush each piece with a thin layer of egg white and dust with extra-fine granulated sugar.
Place on waxed paper to dry—it usually takes about four hours.
They look good enough to eat, but they work best as holiday decorations, especially when displayed on a silver dish.
It takes about two days to finish putting up the Christmas decorations—and that’s with help. Just in case you think I’m too traditional, I bought an inflatable Santa wearing camouflage at Walmart. I also have a replica of Graceland that plays Elvis’s greatest hits. It’s all about the high and the low!
When it comes to presents, I sidestep the drama and rush by shopping all year round. I have a large closet with a lock and key that becomes Santa’s workshop—if I see a great gift for someone on my list I buy it and put it away. Remember to be generous to the people who do things for you all year. I also stock up on hostess gifts that might come in handy during the holidays. Béquet Confections makes the world’s best salted caramels. I order twelve boxes, tie them with festive plaid ribbons, and I’m never empty-handed. Another wonderful gift is a Smithfield ham from Edwards, a family business founded in 1926. There’s nothing better than a soft, white bread sandwich with lots of mayo and slices of genuine Smithfield ham.
We enjoy the spectacle until the first week in January, then it’s time for the Christmas decorations and toys to go back into storage for the year. I have special boxes with individual compartments for ornaments that I bought at the Container Store. Remember to remove the batteries from anything that uses them—they can leak and destroy the mechanism. I’ve learned to be very organized about this process. However, despite my best efforts, the occasional box of ornaments still turns up under a bed.
I celebrate Easter with a special lunch after church, and I confess that there is nothing tasteful about my table on this holiday. The best way to describe it is high kitsch.[1] I pile mounds of bunny grass—the kind you put in Easter baskets—and top them with papier-mâché rabbits. I also have glitter bunnies from Pottery Barn, bunnies pulling carts of candy (fancy candy and the drugstore variety, because I love them equally), Peeps, jelly beans, colored eggs, and alligator cookies with pink and yellow ribbons. There’s barely room for plates and silverware.
When I’m feeling really playful, I put a trail of black jelly beans near each cottontail, signifying you-know-what. It adds that certain something.
The menu on Easter is Southern all the way. I serve Smithfield ham with bourbon sauce, sweet potato soufflé, and haricots verts. The parade of bunnies continues at dessert, when we have a bunny cake (baked in a special bunny mold) covered with white frosting and coconut.
I’ve had a lifelong love of horses, so I really enjoy celebrating the Kentucky Derby with my friends. The Derby, which takes place every May, gives me an opportunity to trot out all of my Southern favorites, from cocktails to desserts. Since I’ve hosted this event so many times, I’m going to use it to illustrate my timeline—and my choices—for a party that’s off to the races.
I start the process in March. That’s when I contact a caterer and send out handwritten invitations—no emails, ever! Guests are invited from 6 to 8 p.m., and they are asked to wear “Derby attire,” which means that most men will show up in a seersucker suit and a bow tie, while most women will wear a white, or a pastel, dress.
I plan a menu that includes my favorite finger foods: ham biscuits, crustless tea sandwiches, deviled eggs, and a shrimp tower (my rule is nothing that’s squishy, drippy, or red), and I rely on my caterer to prepare the dishes just the way I like them. I always provide my own trays and platters, so the food looks more personal. If you are a good cook, you can use my recipes (see Patricia’s Party Recipes).
A Kentucky Derby party calls for the very best Southern cocktails. I serve authentic mint juleps in silver julep cups (any other presentation is blasphemous!), and my version of General Lee’s artillery punch. General Lee’s version, which involved mixing any alcohol the soldiers could find in a horse bucket, is disgusting and will make everyone sick.
A classic mint julep has four ingredients—mint, sugar, bourbon, and crushed ice—and must be served in a silver mint julep cup. Andy Cohen served them in mugs at one of the Southern Charm reunions. Yankees just don’t get it!
In a silver mint julep cup, tear up mint. Add sugar and a small splash of bourbon. Muddle until mint leaves are pulpy. Add bourbon, and stir until sugar dissolves. Top with ice (which you have crushed in a Lewis bag with a mallet), and garnish with mint sprig.
Praised (or condemned, depending on your point of view) as the “strongest drink in America,” General Lee’s (or Chatham) artillery punch is an historic drink that can leave you with an historic hangover. Whitney made it in a haphazard way at one Southern Charm party, throwing in everything but the kitchen sink. When he asked one of the guests how it tasted, they answered, “Drunk!” Even the Southern reprobates wouldn’t drink it.
If you don’t want your guests passing out on the living room floor, serve this lethal drink in punch cups, which are smaller than glasses. And ladle judiciously!
Mix alcohol with lemon juice and sugar and let sit in the refrigerator for twenty-four hours to mellow it out. When ready to serve, pour over a block of ice in a punch bowl and top with thinly cut slices of orange and small strawberries. Then, watch what happens live!
Check in advance to make sure you have proper glassware, in the right quantities. You can rent silver mint julep cups and a punch bowl and punch cups if you don’t own them.
I have fun with the dessert at this party. I serve sugar cookies shaped like horses. Their manes and tales are frosted, as are their neckpieces. I also have frosted horseshoe cookies. They look adorable on platters, and they make great party favors. It’s a Southern thing to place little bags of them at the door for people to take home.
I know I usually sound like the queen of kitsch, but on this occasion, I like to keep the décor simple. Roses are nice, because the race’s nickname is “A Run for the Roses.” I like to position food and drink in various places around the house so guests can move freely. Finally, I know this may be hard for you, but never surrender to the temptation to use paper napkins. Linen ones make a guest feel special.
Tea sandwiches are better in the South because we have a secret ingredient: Duke’s mayonnaise. Duke’s was born in 1917, when Mrs. Eugenia Duke whipped it up in her sandwich shop in Greenville, South Carolina. It has been the unofficial mayonnaise of the South ever since then. If you don’t have a local Piggly Wiggly, you can locate a store that carries Duke’s at dukesmayo.com, or you can order it online. Duke’s will make any recipe taste authentically Southern.
Basically, all tea sandwiches are made the same way. Trim the crusts off slices of Wonder Bread (or another soft white bread—or even a healthy one!), spread with your favorite filling, and cut the sandwiches diagonally, or use a cookie cutter to make shapes.
Spread butter on one slice of Wonder Bread and Duke’s mayo on the other. Cover the buttered side with sliced cucumber, a pinch of garlic salt, and a pinch of dill weed. Top with the mayonnaised slice to make a sandwich. Cut diagonally.
Hard boil eggs, then cool, peel, and chop them. Mix the chopped eggs with mayonnaise and mustard. Add salt and pepper to taste. Remove crusts from Wonder Bread and spread with egg salad. Sprinkle outer top with paprika. Cut diagonally.
An authentic Southern tomato sandwich barely needs a recipe. Remove crusts from Wonder Bread and cut into circles with a cookie cutter or a biscuit cutter. Spread with Duke’s mayonnaise. Slice a ripe tomato (preferably in season), sprinkle with a tiny bit of salt, let sit on paper towels to get rid of the oozy stuff, and place between bread rounds.
Mix the ingredients in a bowl. Remove crusts from Wonder Bread and spread the chicken salad. Cut diagonally.
I serve ham biscuits at most of my parties. This is another Southern specialty that is more of a conversation than a recipe. For the sliced ham, use Edwards Virginia ham whenever possible. For the biscuits…well, you can buy them from a bakery or use frozen. If you want to make your own, a basic buttermilk biscuit recipe is best.
Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Mix flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a bowl. Add Crisco and butter until batter reaches a crumbly consistency. Add buttermilk and stir until dough forms. Place the dough on a floured surface and dust with flour. Fold the dough into itself several times and form a round that’s about an inch thick. Use a biscuit cutter to cut individual biscuits. Line up on a cookie sheet. Bake fifteen to twenty minutes, until golden. When the biscuits have cooled, slice them open, put the ham in the biscuit, and there you go!
I love pimento cheese, and so does everyone else. Whip up a bowl and serve it on celery (my favorite), on crackers, or on Wonder Bread, tea sandwich style.
Mix all ingredients by hand in a bowl until smooth. Use any way you like, or refrigerate in a tight-lidded container. Pimento cheese will stay fresh for about a week.
Sinfully delicious and a party favorite.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Press individual bacon strips in brown sugar until coated on both sides. Place on a rack and bake until brown and crispy. Remove and drain on the rack. I once made the mistake of using a paper towel to remove the excess fat and the paper stuck to the bacon (oddly enough, that didn’t prevent anyone from eating it). Cut each strip into thirds and serve on a platter. Watch it disappear!
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place pecans in a baking dish and bake for fifteen minutes—careful, they burn quickly! Combine cooked pecans with the other ingredients in a baggie and shake like crazy until the nuts are coated evenly. Serve in a pretty dish.
The only time I will go to someone’s house and eat in their kitchen is if they’re serving a traditional crab feast—then I’m happy to do so! This is a messy meal that requires a utilitarian setting—either a table in the kitchen or one out-of-doors. And make sure the table is not made of glass, or you will be sorry.
First you cover the table with newspaper, bring out the hammers, crab crackers, and picks, and pound the crab to remove the succulent meat from its shell. Add melted butter, lemon wedges, and corn on the cob. And, for dessert, an old-fashioned, soda parlor root beer float. You will need a bath when you’re finished, but this meal is absolute heaven! Peel-and-eat shrimp can be fun when crab (best served July through November) is out of season.
Crabs are best cooked in a steamer. Mix the beer, cider, and 2 tablespoons of Old Bay with 1 ½ cups water and simmer in the bottom of the steamer pot. Place the crabs in the steamer insert, making sure they do not touch the water. Sprinkle the remaining Old Bay and salt on each layer of crabs. Cover and steam for thirty minutes. When they’re completely orange, they’re done.
[1] Kitsch: art, objects, or design considered to be in poor taste because of excessive garishness or sentimentality, but sometimes appreciated in an ironic or knowing way.