Baltic Christmas Day 22 - Feel the Magic of the Christmas Season in Vilnius!

Welcome back to Nikolajs on Day 22 of 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas! 

“Nikolajs Timrots is an American-Latvian who spent his whole life in the Washington, DC area until relocating to Vilnius this past September. You may remember him from such hits as 2019’s “Grybukai.” He is now in that awkward stage where he knows enough about Vilnius to know how little he actually knows about Vilnius.”

 

Christmas markets in Europe are amazing. It’s a well-known fact. You can get hot booze, eat tasty food, look at some pretty lights, hear some Christmas music, and get your Christmas shopping done, all in one stop. Vilnius is no different! But there’s something about the layout of the old town here that makes it extra magical.

Let’s start in Cathedral Square. This is a big open plaza next to, you guessed it, Vilnius Cathedral, which is just below what is likely the most famous landmark in Vilnius, Gediminas Castle. However, for the month of December, this square becomes the site of Vilnius’ official Christmas tree, and most popular Christmas market.

For the last few years, the arrangement has been a ring of booths around the Christmas tree itself, making for a stunning setting. It looks amazing as you approach, and even more so as you walk around the market itself under the lights strung up overhead! The theme for 2019 seems to be chess- oddly, I didn’t see anything about that at the market itself or online- but it makes for a really eye-catching light display! 

  

The food and drink selection is outstanding. All kinds of boozy teas, non-boozy teas, boozy coffee, non-boozy coffee, hot wine, hot chocolate, regular chocolate, gingerbread cookies, and fresh-made waffles and crepes. My personal favorite is šaltalankių arbata (buckthorn tea), with or without herbal liqueur. There are also all kinds of stocking stuffers to take back home with you. Oh, and toys with lights. Boy, are flashy light devices popular, especially with the kids.

Head west toward the center of Old Town on Gedimino prospektas, and you will be treated to a really beautiful avenue covered in lights as far as the eye can see, as this street is almost perfectly straight for two kilometers. The ice white lights and the color of the streetscape make for a most pleasant walk, especially if you’re lucky enough to do this when it’s closed to cars! Even passing by on a cross street on my way to and from work each day is a real treat, especially since it’s only light for about 7 hours this time of year. Since the sun doesn’t ever seem to come out to say hello, having lights everywhere at night is a real mood booster!

Source here

  

Hang a left onto Vilniaus gatvė to catch more Old Town sights and lights. Eventually, you will reach Town Hall Square, the other big Christmas market in town. This location is nice because it truly feels like you’re in the middle of Old Town, and instead of white wooden huts, the little shops are in clear, geodesic domes, which help give the appearance of a true winter wonderland!

Source here

  

The best part of all of this is you can really feel the spirit anywhere in the city. If you like Christmas, you’ll love that many stores start playing Christmas music and selling for the holidays as early as late October! And because there are many Orthodox Christians living here and visiting, decorations and music continue through January 6. For a non-traditional Christmas celebration, go visit the historic Lukiškės prison for a unique experience, and some perspective on what it might be like to not see Christmas lights for a long time. And finally, when you come visit Vilnius, don’t forget to visit the famous confiscated items tree in the airport!

Linksmų Kalėdų/Merry Christmas!

Paldies Nikolaj, for taking us on a tour of this year’s Vilnius market! One of the things I miss most about living in France is this particular season – the lights, the markets, the boozy and non-boozy coffee… Vilnius has long been on my travel bucket list, and the more I hear about winter in Lithuania, the more I think this might be the way to experience it for the first time. What do you think?

Thank you for joining us today on 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas! Stay tuned for Day 23, a peek at some exquisite Latvian Christmas ornaments!

Baltic Christmas Day 20 - Christmas Eve in Wentorf DP Camp

Today, on Day 20 of 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas, I am delighted in to introduce artist Krista Svalbonas, her husband Lars Alverson, and Dzintra Alverson! I recently met Krista and Lars while Krista’s most recent project, “Displacement” was featured at Spartanburg Art Museum in the exhibit up[route]d, and was fascinated by the work she is doing documenting the displaced-person camps that the Baltic peoples called home for years post-WWII. Please make sure to read on towards the end – Krista and Lars are still seeking DP’s from many of the camps to interview…

“Born in Latvia and Lithuania, my parents spent five years after the end of World War II in displaced-person camps in Germany before they were allowed to emigrate to the United States. In the series “Displacement,” I set out to retrace and re-imagine that history. My parents’ childhood homes were structures appropriated from other civilian and military uses to house thousands of postwar refugees. They had always described this housing as temporary; I never expected to see these buildings myself. But after intensive archival research, I was able to locate, visit, and photograph many of the actual buildings on the sites of former DP camps in Germany. I have documented 47 former Baltic DP camps in Germany and am currently traveling the US and Canada, interviewing former DP’s from these camps.” (Krista)

“Here is my mother’s little story about Christmas in the Wentorf DP camp. The still life below reflect the central objects of her story; the gnome pictured is the original that is described in this story.” (Lars)

(English version follows below)

Ziemas Svetku Vakars Wentorfas Nometne, Dzintra Alverson

      “Šo jauko notikumu esmu bieži stāstijusi un aprakstījusi skolas domrakstu uzdevumos un vēlāk, saviem berniem.  Bija Ziemsvētku Vakars Wentorfas DP nometnē.  Mūsu ceļojāmā koka kaste un brūnais grumbuļainais koferītis no Latvijas bija sapakoti pilni.  Viss mūsu istabā bija sapakots un nokrāmēts, lai agri no rīta mēs varētu doties ceļā uz Gronas nometni, no kuras mēs kāptu kugī, ceļā uz Brazīliju.  Mammiņa bija pat nokristījusies par Baptisti, lai mēs dabūtu sponsorus Baptistu kolonijā. Te pēkšņi pienāca ziņa no nometnes valdības ka viss otrais stāvs ir slēgts ar karantīni, jo vienam zēnam esot masalas.  Nekāda iešana vai braukšana visiem otrā stāva iedzīvotājiem uz divām nedēļām. Tā visa cerība braukt rīt prom zuda. Kuģis uz Brazīliju rīt aizbrauks bez mums.

      Mēs palikām istabā, bez Ziemsvētkiem, dāvanām, svētku priekiem.  Uz tukšā galdiņa stāvēja  stikla pudelīte, kurā Mammiņa bija ielikusi egļu zariņu, lai mums būtu kaut kāda Ziemsvētku sajūta. Zariņā dega viena svecīte.  Mēs sēdējām ap galdu un dziedājām Ziemsvētku dziesmiņas savā ģimenes korītī.  Brālis Vilnis dziedāja basu, māsa Ilga ar Mammiņu otro balsi un mēs abas ar māsu Aiju, pirmo balsi. 

      Te pēkšņi pie loga dzirdam kādu balsi.  Mammiņa piegāja pie loga.  Lejā stāvēja svēša dāma un angļu valodā lūdza lai Mammiņa nolaiž lejā groziņu ar kaut kādu virvi. Tā kā mēs  bijām nupat pakojušies, Mammiņai bija groziņš un virve pie rokas.  Viņa nolaida virvi.  Kad viņa uzrāva groziņu augšā, mums visiem palika mutes vaļā.  Tur bija četri lieli apelsīni, un maza kastīte, kurā bija mazs, trīs collu metāla rūķītis kurš, kad viņu uzgriež ar metāla atslēdziņu aizmugurē, griežās apkārt un tur savās rokās vēl mazāku rūķīti . Izrādijās ka viena angļu dāma no UNRAs bija dzirdējusi ka otrā stāvā esot ģimene ar četriem bērniem, kuri sēž karantīnē, bez Ziemassvētkiem, jo viņiem bijis paredzēts rīt braukt prom. Kas viņa bija par Ziemsvētku enģelīti tai vakarā! Kas tas bija par prieku un pārdzīvojumu mums visiem!!

      Mēs lēnām un ar lielu baudu lobījām katrs savu apelsīnu vaļā, kur beigās viņa izskatījās kā udensrozīte. Šo lobīšanas veidu mums tikko bija iemācijis viens ļoti jauks un laipns kungs no nometnes, jo apelsīni mums bēgļiem bija nesen atklāts jaunums. Viņš bija bijis muzikas skolotājs Latvijā, un bieži arī nāca pamācīt mums dziesmiņas. Man liekās ka viņu sauca Janis Lubinš. Ar viņu arī iemācījāmies dziedāt uz balsīm ”Tec saulīte tecēdama”, “Saulīt vēlu vakarā” un “Trīcēj kalni skanēj meži”.  Lietojot viņa iemācīto apelsīna lobīšanas veidu, sēdējām ap galdu, lēni ēdām dārgo apelsīnu, pa gabaliņam vien, un katrs gaidījām savu reizi uzvilkt mazo rūķīti, lai viņš mūs iepriecina ar savu griešanos. Pēc tam manā dzīvē ir bijuši daudz Ziemas svētki, bet nevieni nekad vairs neatstāja tik lielu iekšēju iespaidu un prieku kā šie.”

Christmas Eve in Wentorf DP Camp, Dzintra Alverson

            “I have often narrated and described the following event in school assignments and later to my children. It was Christmas Eve at Wentorf DP Camp. The steamer trunk and the little brown suitcase we traveled with from Latvia were packed full with our belongings. Everything in our room was packed away so we could head out to Grohn Camp early in the morning, from where we would board a ship to Brazil. Mommy had even allowed to be baptized in order to get sponsors in the Baptist colony there. Suddenly a message came from the camp government that the entire second floor was quarantined because a boy had contacted measles. There was no travel for all upstairs residents for the next two weeks. All hope for leaving in the morning was gone. The ship would embark for Brazil without us. 

            We stayed in the room, without Christmas, presents, or any celebration. There was a glass bottle on the empty table where Mommy had placed a sprig of a evergreen tree to give us some Christmas feeling. A single candle burned on one of its twigs. We sat around the table, singing Christmas carols in our family choir. Brother Vilnis sang bass, sister Ilga with Mommy sang alto, and my sister Aija and I sang soprano.

            Suddenly we heard someone calling at the window. Mommy walked to the window. Down below stood a unfamiliar woman, who, speaking in English, asked us to lower a basket with some rope. Having just completed our packing, Mommy had a basket and a rope accessible. She lowered the rope. When she pulled up the basket, our mouths were agape in astonishment. There were four large oranges, and a small box containing a small, three-inch metal gnome who, when wound-up with a metal key in the back, marched in a circle as he held an even smaller gnome in his hands. It turned out that the English lady was from UNRA and had heard that there was a family on the second floor with four children, in quarantine, without Christmas, and stranded as they were supposed to leave the next morning. What a Christmas angel she was that evening! What a joy and experience for all of us !! 

            Slowly and with great pleasure, we meticulously peeled the orange rinds back like flower petals, making it look just like a waterlily. This skill had been taught to us very recently by a very nice and kind gentleman in the camp, for the delicacy of oranges was a recent discovery for us refugees. He was a music teacher in Latvia and often came to teach us songs. I believe his name was Janis Lubin. With him, we also learned to sing in harmony songs like "Tec saulīte tecēdama", "Saulīt vēlu vakarā" and "Trīcēj kalni skanēj meži". We sat around the table, slowly eating the precious oranges, piece by piece, and each of us waited for his turn to play with the little gnome, watching as he would delight us with his animated march. Since then, there have been many Christmas holidays in my life, but none have ever left such an inner impression and joy as this.”

Krista is still seeking Estonians, Latvians and Lithuanians from the following DP camps, with the hopes of interviewing and photographing them: Altenstadt, Braunschweig, Dillingen, Braunschweig, Detmold, Emden, Erlangen, Eutin, Ingolstadt, Insula, Itzehhoe, Kleinkotz, Lauingen, Lubeck Riga, Lubeck Waldersee, Memmingen, and Paderborn. Krista invites anyone interested in this project to please contact her!

Krista Svalbonas, Newtown Square, PA, USA

www.kristasvalbonas.com

krista51@me.com

You can also find Krista on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. For a limited time you can purchase a painting by Krista, with all proceeds going to funding her refugee/DP project; she has interviewees scheduled next year in Seattle, Portland, LA, Grand Rapids, Chicago, Cleveland, Minneapolis, Winnipeg (Canada) and Toronto (Canada)… Click here to go to the store!

Mīļš paldies Krista and Lari, for sharing your project and your family Christmas story! If you have the opportunity to see Krista’s art in person, do it – she currently has work on exhibit at The Art & Design Gallery at FIT in NYC as part of “Picturing Space: artists imagine architecture." Coming next year, a "Displacement" solo exhibition at Latvijas Fotogrāfijas Muzejs in Rīga, followed by a European tour of Kaunas, Vilnius and Germany!

Tomorrow, on Day 21 of 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas, winter solstice budēļi with the Krišjāņa Barona Latvian School of Chicago and artist Lāsma!

Baltic Christmas Day 17 - Searching for a taste of home

It’s across the Atlantic to the UK today on Day 17 of 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas. Please welcome back Margaret Drummond, with her post on Kūčios in London, then and now!

“Searching for a taste of home....” Kūčios in London then and now.

When I was a child growing up in London in the 60’s, my parents were friendly with a fair number of Lithuanian families in the city. Actually, my parents were probably acquainted with every Lithuanian family living in the capital, because in those days there were just 1,000 of us living in London- and only 4,000 altogether in the UK. Most, like my dad, were Displaced Persons who arrived after World War II, with a few “old Lithuanians,”- people whose parents had come between the wars.  We grew used to explaining- “no not the Balkan- the Baltic States,” “no we’re not Polish,” and “no, my dad is not a Russian spy”- this last comment to the girl at school who asked me that very question! We clustered around the Lithuanian Church in Hackney. Dad would pop into the club in Victoria Park to hear the news, any news about what was happening in Lithuania, to borrow books, papers, records from friends who had obtained them somehow and to hear the gossip. Someone who had heard from his sister in Chicago that a cousin in Vilnius had heard that in Gaiziunai......You get the picture. They soldiered on. They had their church, the choir, there was a Saturday school, the Scouts, the dance group, Sodyba in Hampshire, and of course the weekly newspaper printed in West London. However, it was hard, especially for the older people, to retain what they had remembered, or thought they remembered, about the country they had left so long ago.  

However, since Independence and Lithuania’s accession to the European Union in 2004, times have changed! London now has the largest population of ethnic Lithuanians outside the Republic of Lithuania – with approximately 100,000 Lithuanian residents, the majority residing in the eastern boroughs of Newham, Redbridge and Barking and Dagenham where I grew up and where I still live today. With that wave of migration came a new form of Lithuanian culture, one that differed from the one my dad and his friends remembered, but one with some traditions that were familiar all the same.

Take Kūčios. Years ago, when no one had ever heard of Lithuania, my parents would struggle to find things for Christmas Eve. Firstly, there was the problem of whether my sister and I would even eat anything. The texture of salted herring proved very difficult to sell as did the acidity of beets and gherkins- and then there was the much greater problem of actually finding the necessary items in the shops.

Some years there would be a quick trip to Baltic Stores on Hackney Road run by Mr. Juras. Given the fact that his suppliers were mostly behind the Iron Curtain, the availability of products and their practicality for a small family were always unpredictable. 

“Juras has salted herrings,” my dad would announce excitedly, after attending Mass at St Casimir’s, “but they come in a big catering tin and need soaking.” Often it was judged too inconvenient to go off and buy such items. How many herrings would the four of us consume when my sister and I would only eat them reluctantly? And we also lived in an area rich in Jewish delis. You could get almost anything at the deli, and our lovely 2^nd-generation Litvak neighbours would recommend where to go and even offer recipes. Then it transpired that the fishmonger next to the deli did special orders on Christmas Eve for Polish customers, and just before Christmas he would go off to Billingsgate with a pocket full of orders from those in the know.

Later in the Eighties we attended an authentic Kūčios at Headley Park and discovered that our version of Kūčios had been but a pale imitation of the real thing; the drive for authenticity became even more competitive. I remember one year at Headley, someone had even gone as far as to snare a fearsome pike from a local lake, hunter-gatherer style. Fishmongers were strictly for softies. We attempted to make poppy seed milk with an old-fashioned pestle and mortar like our grandmothers had done, and poured this over the little biscuits we baked using recipes from the one or two Lithuanian cookery books we possessed- recipes which began “Take twenty-four large eggs.....” We sought out strange grains in health-food shops to eat with honey, and just like our grandmothers who spent hours slaving in their kitchens getting it right in the inter-war years when most farms had neither electricity nor running water, so did we in the West spend the weeks before Christmas Eve running ourselves ragged, tracking down suitable items for the table in a bid to make it all as authentic, as traditional, as possible. Ironic, really…. our cousins on the other side of the Curtain spent their lives carrying their string bags in the hope of suddenly finding something in short supply and bemoaning the fact that there was nothing to buy in the shops, and here we were, scouring East London shops in a bid keep it all alive.

But that is all in the past.

Now in East London you can get everything, and not just in tiny corner shops but in large ethnic supermarkets like Lituanica* in Beckton.  I discovered this culinary palace a few years ago, and this year the management was kind enough to allow me to take some photos to show the variety we now have here in London after all those years of making do. The Lituanica company started in Ireland 20 years ago and has been trading in the UK for the last 15 years. With a number of branches in the London’s East End, the traditional area for Lithuanian settlement, there are also stores further afield in places like Birmingham and Bedford. Lituanica is now the UK’s oldest importer of Eastern European food and its leading wholesaler. The complex in Beckton which I visited also boasts a cosy restaurant, selling authentic ethnic food and delicious coffee & cake, a hairdresser’s, a beauty salon and a wonderfully eclectic bookshop. Sadly, my parents are no longer here to see it but if they were, surely, they would be quite overwhelmed. My Dutch mum used to talk about the early days of her marriage, spent in a bed-sit in Notting Hill Gate, a stone’s throw from Lithuanian House. In those days, she used to say, you couldn’t get salami or even coffee easily in England.

When I visited this year it was too early for my Kūčios shopping, but later this month I will be returning for some herring salad in beetroot and Kedainiai cucumbers which really are the best in the world- well I would say that as that’s where my ancestral roots are- and I shall also buy some of their excellent rye bread to serve with my homemade mushroom soup.  However, I shall still go down the road to the Kosher deli for the salted herrings- the oily ones are not to my taste and those salty Bismarck ones remind me of Christmases past and the special trips we had to make to source them.

Christmas biscuits

And therein lies the nub of the matter. Everyone wants to recreate that Christmas magic that is so special to their own individual family, but how much have tastes and customs changed since my dad left his farmhouse in the forest nearly 75 years ago? Was he striving to recreate that special Kūčios moment for me all those years ago, the same one his mother created for him? Things have moved on everywhere.  How much did tastes and expectations change in Lithuania during the years of Soviet rule? Indeed, how well did our parents remember how and what our grandparents cooked for Kūčios?  And haven’t our palates also changed even in the last twenty or so years in the West?  Lituanica is a taste of home for modern Lithuanians but for those of us who have been longer in the UK, it is best viewed as a holiday to rediscover our roots, rather than a place to find old favourites from the past. Most of those Lithuanian brands are probably thirty or so years old- and modern. Instant Kisielius and ready-made poppy seed milk. Would my močiutė have approved? But then why not, if it makes life a whole lot easier? And I also wonder about the older generation back in the Baltics, today’s grandparents, who grew up under Soviet rule. Do they too hanker after the taste of home?  If you’ve ever seen the film “Goodbye Lenin” and remember the saga of the Spreewaldgurken – where the main character hunts for old East German versions of his mother’s favourite food before they all disappear - you will understand my point.

However, whether you want to celebrate Kūčios as they do today in Lithuania, or if you want to re-create that do-it-yourself version that you experienced as a child, Lituanica is really a top find and like the other new Baltic stores in my area is beautifully clean and reasonably priced with helpful and polite staff. Interestingly it is on a site next door to an Asian supermarket and opposite a Chinese one. Do many customers visit all three just to browse?  Lithuanians are the new kids on the block in our area. Being so close to the Thames there has long been a significant Chinese community in the area and for the last fifty years our suburbs have become a favourite spot for first- and second-generation families with roots in the Indian sub-continent.…….. East London is, and always has been a melting pot, and on a Friday or a Saturday night residents of all ethnicities will “go out for an Indian” or “go out for a Chinese.” So maybe Baltic cuisine will be the next big thing. Cepelinai anyone?

* Special thanks to the staff at Lituanica in Beckton who were so hospitable. You can find out more about them at https://lituanica.co.uk/

Ačiū, Margaret! It is definitely easier to find Latvian foodstuffs and similar products here in the US as well, if not in a shop, then online. However, I still wish for a store like Lituanica, where I could buy authentic rye bread, yeast cakes (instead of active dry) for baking, pelēkie zirņi (grey peas), not to mention things like pīrāgi and piparkūkas! It is exactly as you pointed out – I could make everything from scratch, but the time required (not to mention things don’t usually turn out exactly as I remember they should), makes it impractical in today’s world.

Margaret Drummond grew up in a Dutch/Lithuanian home in London. She is a translator and retired teacher and is interested in how cultures merge and change. You can read last year’s contribution to this blog here: “On the pitfalls of buying a carp for Christmas.” You can also sometimes find her on CafeLit and on the Central and Eastern European Review blog.

Coming up tomorrow, on Day 18 of a Baltic Christmas… Rīga in the winter!

Baltic Christmas Day 14 - Dainava, in concert

Today on Day 14 of 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas, an invitation! 

Kviečiame į Dainavos adventinį kalėdinį koncertą “Gimė mums žodis” kuriame šalia kitų kūrinių atliksime šią nuostabią adventinę grigalinę giesmę “Veni, Veni Emmanuel” (“Ateik, ateik Emanueli”). Įrašas iš Dainavos 2015 metų koncerto.

gruodžio 21 d., šeštadienį, 7 v.v.

Švč. Mergelės Marijos Gimimo bažnyčioje

6812 S. Washtenaw, Chicago, IL

Daugiau informacijos - http://dainava.us/tema/renginiai

Koncerto metu bažnyčios aikštė ir visa apylinkė bus saugoma Illinois Homeland Security tarnybos.

Koncerto lankytojams bus galima veltui statyti mašinas Holy Cross Hospital (Švento Kryžiaus ligoninės) automobilių garaže (įvažiavimas iš 68-tos gatvės).

Dainava invites you to its Advent-Christmas concert “Gimė mums žodis” (To Us the Word Was Born). Among other pieces, they will perform a beautiful rendition of the traditional Gregorian chant Veni, Veni Emmanuel (O Come, O Come Emmanuel).

This video performance is from Dainava’s 2015 concert…

The concert is on Saturday, December 21 at 7pm at the Nativity B.V.M. Church: 6812 S. Washtenaw, Chicago, IL.

During the concert, the church square and the surrounding area will be guarded by Illinois Homeland Security, and parking will be free in the Holy Cross Hospital parking garage (68th Street entrance). For more information, please see their website.

We invite you to pause during your holiday preparations, and enjoy the tranquility of the season, as you listen to excerpts from the Holy Scripture & Lithuanian poetry, and await the Christmas miracle.

Thank you to Aida Gust for the information! I wish the distances weren’t so great and we could attend! Maybe Atlanta needs a concert choir?

Tomorrow on Day 15 of 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas, a piparkūkas experiment…

Baltic Christmas Day 10 - Grybukai

Please extend a warm welcome to Nikolajs Timrots, a first-time contributor to 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas! Nikolajs is an American-Latvian who spent his whole life in the Washington, DC area until relocating to Vilnius this past September. While searching for a job, he has spent his time learning the language and about Lithuanian traditions, as well as how to cook – “because what else can you do when you’re broke?” I present to you Grybukai on Day 10 of the 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas!

Mushrooms. What can be more Baltic? Doesn’t matter if you’re talking champignons, chanterelles, or boletus, you’re sure to put a smile on almost anyone’s face with a heaping pile of them on the dinner table. I say ‘almost’ because I am one of those bad Balts who doesn’t like them. But today we are here to talk about the kind that I will eat- the funky (fungi?) dessert Lithuanians call grybukai (mushrooms) that are usually in the shape of a baravykas.

For my Lithuanian girlfriend Živilė‘s family, the tradition of making these began back during the Soviet occupation of the Baltics. Her grandmother started to make them to have something special around the time grocery stores started running out of basic items like… everything. Živilė has fond memories as a kid of her grandmother making grybukai every holiday season (and I myself have fond memories of getting a nice big box of them from Živilė for Christmas).

Everyone wants to have something special on the table for Christmas. But back in the day, grocery stores didn’t have sweets and a bakery like they do now, so you couldn’t just run to the Rimi down the street and grab a torte at the last minute. So obviously, making a savory food into a sweet is the way to go. Mushroom picking season is at the end of August, so it may be strange to have them again in December, but honestly, they do look nice. And maybe there’s a bit of nostalgia for summer, which I can now fully understand having survived my first Baltic fall.

Source here

So now you’re saying, I wanna make this too! Let me warn you, there is one caveat- the baking form. The best and easiest way to make this is with a special form that is for the stovetop. The good news is, it can be found online for delivery in the US, so you don’t need to ask your cousin to rush order you one from the Baltics. However, it is possible to make in the oven by baking each half of the mushrooms separately and putting them together later. Either way, this is sure to be a crowd-pleaser.

Here is how you can make the sweet treat yourself (thanks to Živilė‘s friend Indrė for kindly sharing her recipe and directions!):

Ingredients

350 g flour

3 eggs

2 egg yolks

150 g white sugar

          Add vanilla sugar to preference (2 tsp recommended)

          OR: Sub white sugar + vanilla sugar with 300g brown sugar (and no honey)

150 g honey

200 ml 30% fat sour cream

200 g butter

1.5 tsp baking powder

2 tsp gingerbread seasoning

          Or ½ tsp each cinnamon, nutmeg, mace, and cardamom

Oil for the baking form

For the mushroom cap color (black):

100 g 70% cocoa baking chocolate

1 tsp sunflower or rapeseed oil

For the mushroom stem color (white):

1 egg white

1 tsp lemon juice

300 g powdered sugar

Poppy seeds (optional)

Directions

1. Heat the honey to make it a bit more liquid.
2. Separately, melt the butter.
3. Mix the honey and butter, add your gingerbread seasoning, mix to combine, and then leave mixture to slightly cool.
4. Separately, beat the eggs and egg yolks with sugar until the mixture becomes white.
5. Add the sour cream to the egg mixture and mix.
6. Add the butter and honey mixture to the egg mixture.
7. Separately, mix the flour with the baking powder.
8. *Sift* your flour mix into the mixture (sifting is the key to making it fluffy). Mix well until flour can no longer be seen.
9. The dough should be very soft, almost like a yogurt texture, and should easily spread to fill the form.
10. Put oil on your baking form.
11. Take a spoon and put your dough into the baking form, almost filling it, but not completely (to allow room for expansion).
12. Put your baking form on medium-high heat, for about 5 minutes on the first side. The goal is to get a light brown color, and you won’t hurt anything by opening it to check.
13. Once the first side is light brown, flip it over and lightly brown the other side.
14. While that’s going on, melt your 70% cocoa chocolate, adding a tablespoon of oil to keep it from thickening again, so that you can dip the mushroom caps.
15. Separately, mix your mushroom stem color ingredients together, and cover the stems with this mixture once baked. Feel free to dip them in poppy seeds as well for added color and flavor. 

Yum! Sėkmės ir skanaus! (Good luck and bon appetite!)

Paldies, ačiū Nikolaj! I have previously seen photographs of these delicate cookies, and always wondered how they were made. I love how glossy the caps are, and the poppy seeds make a perfect accent!

Nikolajs will be returning to the series later in the month for a look at this year’s Vilnius Christmas market – I can’t wait! Until then, we have a whole slew of recipes and other posts to keep counting down the days until Christmas; join us tomorrow on Day 11 for vegan piparkūkas!

Baltic Christmas Day 23 - Kalėdinė and the Magic Harmonica

The time surrounding the winter solstice is magical for the Balts; it was thought that on Ziemassvētki the animals could talk, and unexplainable things happen during the night. For example, in the Latvian Christmas story by Margarita Stāraste Barvika, everyday kitchen objects get a life of their own – the night holds a magic all its own. On the series a few years ago, Barbara Tedrow described her family’s Kūčios traditions, including reading Kalėdinė and the Magic Harmonica by Aloyzas Baronas. 

(from Baltic Christmas Day 7 - Kūčios, the Longest Night, by Barbara Tedrow)

“My granddaughter Sophie snapped me out of my daydream. ‘Ouma, I’m ready for our reader’s theatre after dinner,’ Sophie whispered… Kalėdinė and the Magic Harmonica by Aloyzas Baronas was new to her. In the story, Kūčios was so special that at midnight the animals could talk. Sophie was doing her best to be patient, but the dinner celebration on the longest night of the year was turning into a personal endurance test…”

Today on 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas we are joined by J. Daugirdas of Draugas News. Having received a request for stories to read to children about the magic of the season, they published the short story written by Aloyzas Baronas, Kalėdinė armonika, along with a translation. Thank you to Draugas News for permission to publish an excerpt of the Christmas Harmonica!

A HARMONICA FOR CHRISTMAS

Aloyzas Baronas

Translated by J. Daugirdas

These events took place back in Lithuania. Kaziukas was small then and was not yet of school age. He would spend his days playing with his younger sister Elenutė. Some time before Christmas, Kaziukas’ Auntie brought him a gift – a beautiful ball painted with red and green flowers. Auntie warned him, “Kaziuk, you tend to lose your toys. If you manage to not lose this ball that I’m giving you, and don’t puncture or otherwise wreck it, for Christmas I’ll buy you a harmonica. “A real harmonica?” asked Kaziukas. “Yes, indeed,” replied his aunt, “A genuine harmonica, but a smaller one, just your size.”

Kaziukas promised to be good. He obeyed his parents, avoided teasing his sister Elenutė, did not throw any rocks at the rooster, did not pull the cat by its ears, didn’t ride the family dog Margis like a horse, and in general was on his best behavior, as he really needed this harmonica.

But then, just before Christmas, Kaziukas noticed that his ball was gone! He had actually grown tired of playing with the ball, and so it was only just before the holidays that he thought about it. He searched under all the beds and in all the nooks and crannies, but the ball was nowhere to be found! Kaziukas was in a panic. What would happen if Auntie found out that the gifted ball was no more? His Christmas harmonica would never be bought!

Still worrying about his ball, Kaziukas realized that it was Christmas Eve. Everyone was preparing for Christmas, but Kaziukas could focus on only one thought: now he might not be getting his harmonica, if Auntie found out that Kaziukas indeed did not take good care of his presents and toys.

On the day before Christmas, Auntie, speaking with Mom and Dad said, “Tonight, don’t forget to listen to what our horse will say, for on the night before Christmas all animals gain the gift of speech.” Mother said, “You’re joking, of course – I’ve never heard our animals talk!” Auntie was unfazed: “You didn’t hear them because you never listened. They do indeed talk.” “Tonight you’ll be able to listen to them,” smiled Father. “Then you’ll know for sure.”

Everyone laughed, while Kaziukas thought that maybe it would be worthwhile to go to the family dog Margis after nightfall and ask Margis if maybe he saw where his ball was Margis runs around all over the place, knows a lot, and has a keen sense of smell.

But to get out of bed in the deep of the night – is cold and frightening. Or maybe the cat would talk to him this night? The cat is always lolling about in the kitchen. But who would the cat talk to, as it spends most of its time alone? Although – perhaps the cat could speak to itself, like Auntie sometimes talks to herself? And is a cat an animal? Kaziukas’ mind was going ’round and ’round on this, and finally, he asked his mother, who was busily working around the stove. “Mom, is our cat an animal?” Mother answered while putting something into the oven, “What are you asking? Of course a cat is an animal. A small one, but an animal, nonetheless.”

After the Christmas Eve repast, everyone went to sleep except Kaziukas, who listened and listened. He waited until the clock struck the hour 12 times and then silently, he left his bed. The cold air doused him as if it were water, but on tiptoe he reached the kitchen. Next to the stove gleamed the green eyes of his cat. It appeared that the cat had been awakened by Kaziukas’ steps. Quietly, Kaziukas bent down and whispered directly into the cat’s ear, “Hey, cat, did you see where my ball went?” But the cat was frightened by Kaziukas’ unexpected moves. It jumped up and swatted Kaziukas’ on the cheek with its paw. Kaziukas jumped back, rubbing his face, which now was quite sore. Kaziukas tapped the cat on the head and, with a stinging nose, went back to bed. Kaziukas couldn’t fall asleep for quite some time. He was thinking: “I doubt that the cat scratched me deeply. Maybe tomorrow there won’t be any mark.”…

For the full translation, as well as the original Lithuanian tale, please see the Draugas News article, Aloyzas Baronas and the Christmas harmonica tale. DRAUGAS (Friend) is a Lithuanian newspaper published in the United States since July 12, 1909, and is the oldest continuously published Lithuanian newspaper anywhere in the world. To learn more, please visit their website; you can find Draugas on facebook here.

  

Draugas News has also published an index of the 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas, with all five years of the series including titles and links to each article, listed by year. You can find the index here: Femme au Foyer – 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas.

As our countdown to Christmas draws to a close, we invite you to join us tomorrow on 24 Days of a Baltic Christmas for one final day of celebration!