by Lily Gardner
There is an old practice of not allowing wheels to spin from the Winter Solstice until Twelfth Night on January 6. This custom mirrors the halting of the sun at solstice. Life seems to hang suspended during this time, and the veil between the worlds thins.
During this period of darkness and storms, horrible monsters, called Kallikantzaroi, with goat ears, blackened faces, red eyes, and long nails, hide themselves in the dark corners of cellars and barns. They come out at night, breaking furniture and devouring food stores.
Whatever they don’t eat they destroy. Werewolves, said to be the grown children who were born on the twelve days of Christmas, roam the roads and murder hapless travelers. The skies contain dangers as well. The Wild Hunt, led by Frau Holda or Wodan, is a fierce hunting party of demons souls that rides the winds during storms from Samhain to Candlemas. Any stranger wandering the roads can be swept up and forced to ride until the end of time.
Kallikantzaroi, werewolves, and the Wild Hunt are all personifications of the old year, and as custom dictates, we have to banish the old year now. When the old year is disposed of, traditionalists perform ceremonies to ensure good luck for the new year, with the principle that “well begun is well ended.”
One practice to ensure good luck is to make a Twelfth Night cake. Twelfth Night ends the Christmas festivities for many people. For the most luck, everyone in the household, from eldest to youngest, must stir the cake with a wooden spoon in a deosil, or sunwise, motion. Wood is the symbol of manifestation. Each person closes his or her eyes and makes a wish for the New Year while stirring.
It is traditional to sprinkle the batter with charms for sympathetic magic, in the belief that like attracts like. Through the years, this practice of putting charms in the cake became a method of divination.
The British spring a coin, a thimble, a button, and a ring into their Christmas pudding. The thimble and button foretell that you will lead a solitary life; a ring predicts marriage, and a coin means wealth.
The French drop a bean, a pea, and a baby figurine into their Twelfth Night cake batter. The recipient of the bean is crowned king of the party; the pea-finder is crowned queen, and the lucky person who finds the baby is guaranteed a year of good fortune (and has to bake the Twelfth Night cake next year).
Some suggestions for the modern Pagan to add to their Twelfth Night cake include an almond for happiness, a cinnamon stick for abundance, a coffee bean for astuteness, a tiny fan for change, a whole nutmeg seed for love and fidelity, rice for fertility, ginger root for zeal, a key for opportunity, and a paper clip for partnership. Use charms that are safe in the oven’s heat, of course, and make sure you urge your guests to play with their food so as not to bite or swallow their fortunes.
It is also possible to insert the charms after the cake is caked if you wish to frost your Twelfth Night cake (see recipe below). Note: The almond paste in a Twelfth Night cake needs to cure for one week before the cake is made, so please take that into account when you’re planning your Twelfth Night festivities.
Twelfth Night Cake
This European cake recipe is more like our sweet bread than what is thought of as cake in the United States.
1 package yeast
1⁄8 c. lukewarm water
1 c. milk, scalded and cooled to room temperature
1 tsp. salt
1⁄2 c. melted butter
1 egg yolk, beaten
3 c. flour
3⁄4 c. almond paste
Various Twelfth Night charms
Melted butter
Powdered sugar
Dissolve the yeast in the water. Mix in the milk, salt, melted butter, and beaten egg yolk. Add flour, and mix so that the dough forms a ball. Let it rise for forty-five minutes. Work in the almond paste with your hands, and shape the cake dough into a ball. The paste will be stiff, so mix as thoroughly as you can. Stuff the charms into the dough at this time. Place the ball of dough onto a parchment-lined cookie sheet, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise for another thirty minutes. With a sharp knife, cut a pentacle across the top of the ball of dough, and then bake the cake for 25 minutes in a 375 degree F oven until the surface is golden brown. Let it cool off and brush the cake’s top with melted butter. Sprinkle powdered sugar in the carved pentacle. (Or you can add your favorite frosting if you prefer.)