Feasting: Repurposing Food Honors the Hands that Produce It
Your December Recipe Round up includes sweet-and-savory persimmon sauce, reducing food waste in holiday meals, raspberry vinegar, and more
Feasting is a big theme for me this month, beyond the usual holiday-related reasons.
Having just handed in the final copy on a forthcoming piece about historical feasting practices (particularly in connection to food waste reduction), I’m thinking a lot about how we’ve gathered together over dinner through time in a very practical way.
Not just what we eat, or how we feel while we eat, but the actual labor of preparing the food, growing ingredients, etc. and how we can honor that labor by putting each ingredient to its fullest use, and allow ourselves to see food ‘waste’ as an opportunity for play and experimentation (my class Preserving Abundance is all about this very thing).
As I pulled together this month’s recipes, I thought a lot about how they can be an expression of reuse as well as play, and a way to honor all the hands that bring me the food I eat each day, whether they’re out in the fields or stocking the grocery store shelf.
I love pulling together these recipe round ups because they give you a glimpse into my kitchen in real time: The experiments I’m currently playing around with, the ideas I’m currently noodling.
As a reminder, I have a few spots left for private, virtual classes for you or a loved one (or for a group) if you’re looking for a unique last-minute gift. Or if you want to book a corporate/friend group wellness retreat in early 2026.
Anything from a 1-hour quick fermentation lesson to a full-day or multi-day immersion (for obvious reasons, I only have a few of those available to book).
Private culinary classes can be booked by emailing me directly ([email protected])
All other writing/creative coaching sessions can be booked through my calendar (I currently have times available through January: But we can go further out if you need).
Your unexpectedly fruit-forward monthly recipe round up includes:
Wassail (a family recipe)
Persimmon sauce two ways
Quick raspberry vinegar for your 1990s fever dream salads (or your cocktails, or whatever)
Cutting down on food waste when cooking for a group (ask me questions about this one, please!)
Wassail
Wassail is one of those things I rarely drink as I rarely make spiced, warm drinks for groups. But I love it and it has a decidedly nostalgic tinge for me: Something that plants me firmly in the sensory landscape of the holiday season, even if I were to have it another time of year.
This particular recipe is one my dad’s mom gave my mom, so has crossover between my recipe boxes. It serves 24, says the recipe, so feel free to halve or whatever as you feel called.
Grandma, not a big drinker, doesn’t include alcohol in this recipe, but feel free to add some in (I like whiskey) if you’re feeling fancy.
(I’ve made a few clarifications here to the original recipe card in the image.)
Step 1: Simmer together on low, covered, for 1 hour:
1 c sugar
3-4 c sticks cinnamon
2 c water
3 tbsp whole cloves
Step 2: Strain the syrup and set aside.
Step 3: Make tea, and mix with cider
Pour 1 qt of boiling water over 2 tbsp black tea (or 2-3 tea bags).
Steep 3-5 minutes, then strain.
Add 2 qts of apple cider plus the strained syrup you made in step 1
Step 4: Add remaining ingredients and heat
Add 2 c grapefruit juice
1 c lemon juice
2 c orange juice
And 2 c pineapple juice
Gently heat (without boiling) and add sugar to taste. Keep warm for serving (a crock pot works well for this).
Keep reading for persimmon and raspberry magic, sustainable holiday cooking ideas, and other cozy winter things!
Persimmon sauce
This sauce can be adapted two ways, a move done purposefully in my recipe testing to speak to shifting climate and the fact that our persimmons also shift drastically over the course of their growing season.
In one version, the persimmons are cooked to heighten their sweetness and soften the fruit if you live in a place where they’ve not yet been touched by frost. If the persimmons have been, and have softened into their full, luscious expression of sweet and jammy fruitiness (I love a soft, ripe persimmon, clearly)…then there’s a second version of this recipe that honors the fruit in its frost-kissed form.
Both are delicious, and I recommend playing with both through the season and playing with the ratios on other ingredients to adapt this sauce to a version that speaks to you and your palate (and the growing conditions where you live).
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