HOW TO EAT YOUR CHRISTMAS TREE COOKBOOK
The little, green 'How to eat your Christmas tree' cookbook features twenty two deliciously coniferous recipes for how to cook with Christmas trees and their evergreen pals... a perfect alternative Christmas present! Inspired by the sold-out supper club of the same name, this book was written in 2019 just as the noise surrounding climate issues had been turned up to the maximum. This lighthearted yet poignant book also explores the cultural significance and history of the Christmas tree across the world and asks that we reflect wastefulness and resourcefulness at a time where the environment is drastically under threat.
Produced with the environment in mind, 'HTEYCT' is printed by the sustainable, St. Austells Printing Company in Cornwall, UK. The book's packaging and distribution is also environmentally sympathetic, (slow methods of delivery, Amazon has been boycotted for its unethical operations, packaging is recycled and recyclable). With contributions by: Jessica Hart (graphic designer, front cover and infographic),
Images by Lizzie Mayson
Excerpt from 'Introduction...' (How to eat your Christmas tree,' Julia Georgallis 2019)
There is a house down the street from me, in a high-up corner of North London where I am from. It looks like it is sinking into the ground, but in reality it is just that the plants in the front garden are growing taller and taller with every month that they are ignored. It is assumed that nobody lives there, the odd one out on a road full of nicely manicured gardens owned by nicely manicured housewives. But then, all of a sudden, incongruous with the rust and mustard palette of the house, stands the most magni cent bright, bright pastel-blue tree - a Blue Spruce, nine feet tall and the most alive thing in the garden. A few years ago on a
particularly bitter November evening, with the light fading far too early, I sat
in my van opposite the abandoned house with my friend and designer, Lauren Davies. We were staking out the spruce, behaving like a couple of cat burglars, me wearing an incriminating red hat and Lauren, very pregnant, in a badly judged furry leopard print jacket. When we were sure the coast was clear, I walked up the garden path and rapped on the door handle a few times. Nobody answered.
I took out a pair of pliers (because we didn’t have any secateurs) and snipped the spiky branches from the tree, careful not to take any cuttings from under dog-piss height. We were going to take the branches home and eat them. We looked bonkers.
In the weeks that preceded this shrub-napping, Lauren and I had driven around London and its leafy periphery, trying to procure other types of tree to eat on our ridiculous mission to nd some edible conifers. The most successful haul happened at a Christmas tree farm in Kent, where the farmer was so surprised by our request that he gave us Douglas r and Norway spruce branches at no cost.
‘Just make sure you send me some recipes,’ he said to us...