Monocle Weekend
Edition: Sunday

The sun has finally put in an appearance in our little stretch of Zürich (it’s been a soupy week of very low clouds) and there’s the gentle feeling of a city and country that’s winding down for the holiday. There’s plenty of last-weekend-before-Christmas shopping bustle in the city centre but on the street in front of Monocle’s HQ there’s a gentle flow of cars stopping by to pick up gifts, regulars popping in to wish us Frohe Weihnachten and friends gathering for a bottle of bubbles to extinguish any year-end troubles.

From time to time, people ask us why we maintain cafés and shops when we should be more active on social media and moderate our relationships digitally. It’s much cheaper, they explain. Others suggest that it must be exhausting doing all the meeting and greeting and cleaning of tables. As thoughtful as those observations might be, I wouldn’t have it any other way. For sure, being on a social media platform might give you more reach and the heady buzz that comes with lots of emojis and an uptick in followers but I don’t think it has quite the same impact as spontaneously sitting down for a morning coffee with a long-standing reader from Amsterdam or clinking glasses with visitors from Veneto who’ve never experienced Monocle first-hand and were keen to find out more.

In a little under 15 months we’ll be celebrating our 15th anniversary and while we’ve done much in the way of expansion and experimentation, being with our readers and listeners remains core to what we’re all about. As Andrew pointed out in this same slot yesterday, we did as much as we could this year in the way of bringing together our community in cities and events far and wide. Of course we could have hosted some summits online and reached more of you but is that really what we all want? Wasn’t it more fun flying in from Chicago to see us in London at the Christmas market? Or enjoying the sunshine in Hellerup for our book signing? Or sampling some lethal cocktails at Bungalow in Stuttgart?

Before sitting down to pen today’s column I was at our new little kiosk at Jelmoli department store, helping a customer select a book for her grandmother and exchanging ideas with others who thought we should be taking our concept to airport concourses far and wide. (A very good idea by the way and if you’re interested in becoming a partner I’m all ears, so drop me a note at tb@monocle.com.) Being on the shop floor is invaluable as you’re able to not only look your customer in the eye but also hear exactly what they’re looking for, where you can improve and what you’re doing well. Having these conversations face to face is usually quite pleasant; we know how easy it is to be rude and insensitive over e-mail or via anonymous feedback channels. And while we’re on the topic of correspondence, it’s that time of year when this editor’s e-mail hopper is full of special requests from readers looking to solve various Christmas gift and hospitality dilemmas. Here’s a small sampling:

Q: I want to give books to my friends, family and deserving colleagues but I also don’t want to give my money to a big online retailer. Thoughts?

A: You know I’m going to suggest you visit your local bookshop but it sounds as though you’re perhaps parked somewhere remote so might I suggest you ring up Sam at Daunt Books in Marylebone in London and have her sort out all your literary needs. But hurry, you might have heard there’s a global logistics problem.

Q: Any thoughts on the best way to be super cosy but also keep looking crisp and sharp over the holidays?

A: Okay, this can go in many directions but I think you’re saying that you want to spend the maximum amount of time in bed but also want to look respectable when wandering out onto the balcony or stepping outside to sign for packages. I’ve got one word for you: Tekla. It’s a super little textile company out of Copenhagen that makes most of its products in Portugal and can sort you out with sheets, blankets, nightshirts, robes and sharp jammies. They also deliver.

Q: I’m heading over to my grandparents’ for Christmas dinner and want to do something special – what could I give them?

A: I know exactly what they’d like: the gift of silence with a side order of tolerance and respect. If your grandfather uses terminology that you deem out of fashion because some self-interest group has suddenly rebranded itself over the past few hours, I don’t think it’s your place to call him out while he’s slicing the roast beef. It’s important to remember that though your world might move fast, others move at different speeds and not everyone needs to subscribe to the same worldview. Grandpa and grandma come from a different place from you, they certainly have had different lives and just because they’re not down with your politics, it doesn’t mean their lived experience isn’t valid. How about hearing them out rather than shutting them down?

Q: Any good wine tips?

A: Absolutely! As well as offering up a few festive suggestions within this very newsletter (see Top Cellars below), Chandra Kurt will appear on Monocle on Sunday today, with tips to get you through the season. Listen live at 10.00 CET or, if you’ve missed it, via our podcast. Failing that, might I suggest Monocle’s new Swiss pinot noir that just landed on Friday? If you bought our summer rosé, it’s the same drill – we can ship pretty much anywhere in Europe. Drop us a note at customerservice@monocle.com.

Q: I want to come to a Monocle event next year and I’d like to take my partner as a little gift. Will you be venturing out of Europe? Where do you think you’ll be hosting?

A: All staying reasonably normal we’ll most definitely be hosting events. Los Angeles is top of the list and we want to be there soon. We’re also looking at a Nordic tour for our new book devoted to the region. There’ll be a special spin on this, so if you’re a long-standing subscriber in Helsinki, Oslo, Stockholm or Copenhagen we just might be calling on your hosting services.

I’m off to the mountains for the next two weeks but will be back in this very same spot on 2 January. This newsletter will be taking a small break until then. Thank you for all your support; wishing you a very Merry Christmas, a relaxed holiday and all the best for 2022.

A few days before Christmas, Chinese people in Hong Kong will get together to eat tangyuan, a clear soup full of sweet rice dumplings (writes James Chambers). There’s a symbolic meaning behind every Chinese tradition and tangyuan represents family unity. You eat together and stay together. Sharing a bowl of these rice balls will have added meaning this year for all of the Hong Kong families who have been waving off loved ones at the airport – and I can relate to their pangs of separation. This will be my second successive Christmas in Hong Kong and the first with my son, who will not be able to meet his grandparents in the UK. But Christmas is always more special with children around and I have added reason to go big on the family traditions. Sure, my son might be only nine months old but he’ll wake up on Christmas morning with a stocking next to his cot stuffed with tangerines. I might even throw in some dragon fruit to add a taste of Hong Kong. Years from now, when we’re back in the UK, he’ll be able to look at photos of himself in front of Hong Kong skyscrapers that are lit up like Christmas trees and shopping centres decked out in fake snow with models of penguins and polar bears.

Maybe this year my son will try mashed-up turkey for the first time. Chinese don’t eat “fire chicken”, as turkey is known in Cantonese, so we have yet to feed him any. Indeed, last year I had my first insight into how curious culinary customs can seem to the uninitiated. We hosted Christmas dinner for my wife’s friends, all of whom are Chinese, and it was my job to plan the dinner, carve the turkey and explain what Brits eat at this time of year. Seeing the bewildered faces of my guests when they were presented with a mountain of roast potatoes, sprouts, stuffing, sausages, Yorkshire pudding, parsnips and carrots reminded me of my first run-in with one of their delicacies – chicken feet. There was a lot of gravy-soaked food being pushed around plates and little clamour for seconds.

We’ll adjust it all to regional tastes this Christmas, though I’m expecting fewer sign-ups. Several of the people at our table last year will be spending their first winter in the UK. As they settle into their new surroundings, I hope my crash course has given them a taste for this magical time of year, if not a hankering for turkey with all the trimmings.

We’ve turned to a star Swedish chef for his tips on creating a heart-warming hearth around which to warm yourself. Here are Niklas Ekstedt’s tips for a chestnut-roasting inferno that burns brightly and smells good too.

“Growing up in northern Sweden, I was taught how to light fires by my dad. The first thing he told me was that you can’t make a fire with damp wood. He also taught me that you have to start small – the smaller the better – and then grow it. The most common mistake that people make when lighting a fire is to put huge logs on it too early, which will just kill the flame. At home we always burn birch wood, starting with the bark. To create the kindling I’ll carve the bark into very small pieces and then use some small sticks, which I light with matches to get things going. It’s a very nice smell. When the fire is roaring, we like to heat a cast-iron pan over the fire and add sugar, cognac and spices to it. It’s a Swedish version of mulled wine, called glögg.”

For more tips, tricks and plenty in the way of inspiring writing and fresh photography, pick up our December/January issue of the magazine or treat yourself (or your loved ones) to a subscription. Have a super Sunday.