Christmas cake
Transitioning from 2021 to 2022 with the help from a sugary delight
Christmas and New Year is a time that is usually rife with a sense of celebration and holiday cheer for many around the world. It's a time to get together with family friends, throw your work schedule out the window and indulge in rich food, bright lights and overspending.
This is also a time of year, however, that can be particularly difficult for autistic people. Many autists, including myself, are sensitive to things like light and sound - the tendency for many to celebrate Christmas with bright flashing lights and obnoxiously loud Christmas music can, therefore, be a nightmare for our community.
Not only this but, whether or not you celebrate, this time of the year is full of changes in routines. I, personally, love routines and they make me feel calm and safe. Abandoning routines can, therefore, make me feel on edge and like I'm constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
In addition to these things, there are also a whole new set of social scripts you need to learn over the 'festive period'. People will ask you such questions as: "Are you ready for Christmas?", "Did you have a nice Christmas?" and "What are your plans for the New Year?"
There are definitely 'right' answers to these questions - "I've just got to get a few more presents for x, and then I'm all set!", "We had a lovely time, it was great to celebrate this holly jolly time together", and then some reference to vast quantities of alcohol over the New Year.
There are also 'wrong' answers to these questions - "I've been stress-buying since August to avoid the crowds", "Well, actually, no, I spent the whole time trying to be someone else and avoiding all the bright flashy lights", and "I'm just going to go to bed early, so it can all be over soon".
Don't get me wrong, there are some things I love about Christmas - I love getting the 'perfect' present for somebody because I've carefully assessed all their interests and found something that ticks all the boxes. I also love almost everything surrounding (vegetarian) food at Christmas - I'll be enjoying mince pies from the 1st December and creating the most amazing leftover sandwich (the combination of cranberry and bread sauce are pure heaven).
One of the best foods around Christmas for me is Christmas cake. In the UK, this is a fruit cake topped with a layer of marzipan and royal icing. We've made the same cake recipe since I was little (if you're wondering, it's the Delia Smith Creole Christmas cake - nothing can beat it). Now, you need to understand that Christmas cake is just an amazing sensory experience for me. There's the gooey fruity sponge with all of those lovely spice flavours, my favourite part is probably the layer of sweet soft marzipan, which is so wonderfully wrapped in a crisp layer of royal icing. For me, Christmas cake is pure sensory joy.
I also like our family's tradition around Christmas cake (really tradition is just a special kind of routine!) - we have to be very prepared and make it a month before. Everyone in the house has to have a go at stirring the Christmas cake and making a wish - with this stir you also get a lovely noseful of all the Christmasy spices. Just before Christmas day itself, we add the marzipan (there's always leftovers and this is a very important factor in my enjoyment of this part of the tradition) and then decorate with the fluffy, meringue-like royal icing. We then have to wait until Christmas day itself before we're allowed to cut it.
Since living separately from my parents, I've always made my own Christmas cake that I can enjoy at home by myself. Every day after Christmas day, I cut a slice at 10:30 in the morning. I have this with a cup of 'Christmas tea' (which I 'acquire' from my mum, who always, somewhat dispassionately, receives a box of the stuff from an old friend every year like clockwork).
This creates a wonderful routine (you'll recall, I love a good routine). At a time where the outside world seems to have abandoned structure, I get to have this time, once a day, where I can enjoy this yummy sensory delight. At a time of year that's supposed to be about endings and beginnings (a truly scary thought), this cake helps me to bridge the gap between the calendar years and bring something truly joyful into the next year with me.
Of course, however, at some point, the cake ends. Halfway through January, I'm now getting to that time. The thought gives me a pang of anxiety, and where I previously cut myself large slices, I'm now rationing the last few slivers of delight. The cake that has been a faithful friend in helping me to slowly transition from one year to another now seems to be working against me. I want to hold on to last year, but then maybe, I'm also more equipped to deal with this transition now Christmas and New Year have passed? The world around me is up and moving again - the lights have been taken down, services and workplaces are seeming to resume around me. The cake has helped me to get to this point, but maybe I now feel strong enough to address this new year on my own?
This morning, then, I will have my last slice, be thankful for the cake as a joyful tool in helping me get to this point. I will know that it's ok to leave behind this last reminder of the year before, looking forward to what I'll be able to achieve this year.
