The research
for writing a future Christmas book in my Fudge Shop Mystery series took me
down memory lane.
I’m half
Belgian, and my characters in the series are full Belgian—Ava Oosterling and endearing
troublemaker Grandpa Gil.
Finding the
best chocolate and fudge for my novels of course led me to the Belgians in Door
County, where my series is located.

Belgians
started coming to this country in the 1850s, soon after Wisconsin became a
state in 1848. Land for farming was becoming scarce in crowded Belgium, and Wisconsin
needed workers, so the U.S. government sold land here to immigrants for $1.25
per acre.
The history
of the Belgian immigration to Wisconsin is now housed in a beautiful facility
that shouldn’t be missed if you travel to Door County—the “Cape Cod of the
Midwest.” The Belgian Heritage Center is in the village of Namur—named for a
city in Belgium.

In 1990 the
Namur Historic District was approved as a National Landmark by the U.S.
Department of Interior, purportedly the largest “rural” community ever to
receive that designation.
On the
grounds of the Heritage Center you can visit the schoolhouse used by nuns in
the 1800s and a roadside chapel. These tiny churches fit perhaps four people and
were essential to immigrants lonely for their homeland.
Christmas for
Belgians began this past week with December 5 Saint Nicholas Eve and December 6
Saint Nicholas Day.
In Belgium, children
put their shoes in front of the fireplace so St. Nick can leave presents in or near
them. Because of the Dutch influence in Belgium, those may be wooden shoes.
Such shoes were worn by early Door County immigrants because leather was
scarce.
My family
followed Belgian holiday traditions. Seafood is a staple for a Belgian
Christmas Eve because of the “old country’s” proximity to the ocean. I grew up
with oyster stew served on the Eve. Dad also had to have pickled herring.
We had an
Advent calendar. Religious aspects aside, as a kid I enjoyed opening each day
to see what was under the flap. In Belgium, it’s common to get chocolate
calendars—which is more my character Ava’s style and mine, too!
A week before
Christmas we made sugar cookies—miles of them spread across the big kitchen
table. Belgians are partial to cookies called “specaloos” at Christmas. They’re
made with brown sugar, ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg or allspice in the dough
that is cut into fun shapes.
Making and
serving a yule log is also a Belgian tradition. It’s a roll made of chocolate
cake and frosting and decorated to look like a real log.
This 2019-2020
holiday season marks special Belgian milestones in both mystery writing and
football! The famous Belgian sleuth Hercule Poirot, invented by author Agatha
Christie, debuted in the spring of 1920, a hundred years ago. And 2019-2020 is
the 100-year anniversary of the Green Bay Packers, too—a team started by Belgian
Curly Lambeau.

On Christmas
morning, serve a cinnamon coffee cake with coffee. In some areas of Belgium,
“cougnou” is served; it’s a sweet bread baked in a tin the shape of the
swaddled baby Jesus.
Ava
Oosterling and Grandpa Gil and I wish you Happy Holidays!
Christine
DeSmet is the author of the holiday novella, When Rudolph Was Kidnapped, and the forthcoming Deadly Fudge Divas, the fourth book in
her Fudge Shop Mystery Series. Both books are published by Writers Exchange
Publishing.
Visit her
here: https://christinedesmet.com/
(Scroll Down to the Bottom of the Post to Leave a Comment for Christine DeSmet)
And Jerol Anderson says Wisconsin isn’t Just for Tourists
I’m all about the hidden gems, the natural beauty and the off-the-beaten-path
places you’d never know were there until you stumble across them.

Just about
the time the hummingbirds and the variety of summer birds leave our state in
September, the air becomes crisp and dry. Wisconsin foliage begins its colorama
of red, orange and yellow mixed with the green and of course the bronze and
cream color of crops ready for harvest.
It all starts
in late October up North and spreads continuously toward where we live in
Southern WI. By mid-October a drive northward for a day-trip or a weekend stay
is an exciting, colorful escape. Around every curve of the country highway through
the rolling hills is a true ‘eye-candy’ treat. In addition, when driving through
each small town, there’s a touch of brighter orange — a carved pumpkin or spooky
Halloween delight on nearly every park bench or in front of each home.


Of course,
family Christmas programs, and plays, operas and more are available in schools,
churches and each community.
Spring
arrives in April but the rule is, no planting of the garden until after Mother’s
Day in May. But even earlier, acres and acres of corn, hay, soy beans and every
other crop imaginable from potatoes to ginseng are planted in Wisconsin. The green
sprouts bring smiles after the snow-laden fields of winter.


The festival
season that continues through the summer has a great kick-off with the Memorial
Day Fireman’s Pancake Breakfasts and parades. Hundreds of friends, parents, grandparents
and grandbabies stand in line for breakfast in front of our firehouse. Sharing
the arrival of spring sunshine while in that line is nearly as important as the
pancakes.

.
I live in a small-town known for its pottery. In the fall there
is a driving tour to visit pottery studios and their kilns. And, in summer the
town square hosts an event offering pottery and forged
iron art where after dark the flames of a ten-foot kiln fires a new sculptured
statue for the park.

I am a writer and a gardener and my goal is to have one of
every flower in my over 1,000 square feet of beds carved out of the forest
around our home.
With all the lovely nature and kind-hearted people around
me, I find the inspiration and quiet time heart-warming and stimulating.
I also write mysteries and other stories set in quaint,
small-towns. Stop
by here www.jerolanderson.com to learn more.
I have yet to visit Wisconsin. Hopefully I will get to while I am able to get around fairly well!
ReplyDeleteSummers and autumn are especially lovely. Best wishes for your holiday, "MysandyKat."
ReplyDelete