Mistletoe is a rather tenacious parasite so wresting it from a tree trunk can be difficult. Yet I relish that slightly hazardous Christmas Eve task – usually with my sister leading the charge, Niwaki shears in hand. By this point in December, even the most verdant bits of festive greenery in our home will have lost some of their freshness and need an injection of glossy foliage. Our bosky hunting ground of choice is a Cambridge college’s orchard of gnarled and stooping apple trees. We’re quite sure that the gardeners won’t mind us giving their holly bushes a light pruning (though I admit that there’s a thrill in walking home with a sack of spiky, possibly illicit branches).

At the table, the leafy haul becomes a wild, unruly centrepiece for supper. It’s a rather Dickensian affair in my house, with candles burning and general merriment, but on Christmas Eve I stop short of preparing a big meal. The night before the big day is about bowls of soup, glasses of ice-cold fizz, smoked salmon sourced from Jollys of Orkney and the umami-rich (as well as hilariously named) Gentleman’s Relish, coupled with Stilton and pickled walnuts. When else will you find the time to truly savour a perfectly ripe persimmon or a clementine, with its leaves still clinging to the stalk?

Rushing to catch up on your wrapping, hurrying to the shops in search of the perfect ribbon – it has become a tradition to dash about on Christmas Eve. That final lap of a department store before closing time can feel like an Olympic pentathlon. For me, real branches are an antidote to the final burst of commerce that defines this time of year. What is it about the contours of a tree that remind me that Christmas is as old as the hills? Evergreens call to mind the resurgence of life at the moment of winter solstice, of Yule and the mysterious tradition of English orchard wassailing (singing to wake up trees). They make me think of Naturchläuse in Alpine spots such as Appenzell, where people dress up in costumes of moss, pine cones and fir branches to drive away winter.

Festooning your home with real greenery is worth the effort. To my table display, I like to add some deep-red amaryllis and berries. Their hit of colour contrasts with the white linen tablecloth, soon to be stained by glasses of barolo – as well as the imprint of long conversations and songs, which are always unique to each year. There’s a subliminal urge to bring fresh flowers to a table. The perishable nature of blooms and the fact that glossy cuts of holly are only here for a fleeting period help us see that the moment that matters is now. They announce, “Savour us before we wilt.” 

These occasions when tables are laden with produce and promise also remind me of Dutch 17th-century depictions of edible delights. On a recent trip to the Museo del Prado in Madrid, I discovered Clara Peeters’ “Still Life with Flowers, a Silver-Gilt Goblet, Dried Fruit, Sweetmeats, Breadsticks, Wine and a Pewter Pitcher”. It shows a table heavy with food, rendered with glistening, almost photorealist clarity, even though it was painted in 1611. Peeters and her contemporaries, such as Osias Beert the Elder, were hooked on capturing the essence of a moment. With its sense of anticipation for a night of revelry, it’s a scene that still packs a punch.

Sophie Grove is the editor of ‘Konfekt’. Pick up the winter issue today – it’s full of snowy forays, recipes and ideas for the season. 

For our December/January issue, we asked 10 friends of Monocle to share the best things that they have watched, read and listened to in the past year. Here’s one of them. You can read the rest of the feature here. 

Antonio Patriota, Brazil’s ambassador to the UK
The best thing that I watched:
Kleber Mendonça Filho’s The Secret Agent is a gripping, intelligent film that sheds light on Brazil’s recent past with cinematic finesse. It’s thrilling and thought-provoking, and illustrates the damage done to society by authoritarian rule and the culture of impunity that it promotes.

The best thing that I read:
Philippe Sands’s 38 Londres Street: On Impunity, Pinochet in England and a Nazi in Patagonia is a masterful blend of personal history and international law. The book is meticulously researched and a groundbreaking testimony of the link between Nazi war criminals and the torture chambers of the Pinochet regime in Chile.

The best thing that I listened to:
I love Abdullah Miniawy’s album Le Cri du Caire – in particular, the song “Pearls for Orphans”. Miniawy’s voice is just unforgettable. His music is very spiritual and transcendent. It’s a compelling tribute to child victims of violence.

Monocle’s bumper December/January issue is available now on newsstands and online. Buy a copy or, better yet, subscribe so you’ll never miss an issue.

The Winter Olympics are better than the Summer Games for one big reason: the sports are far more dangerous (writes Andrew Mueller). With the exception of BMX racing, which might have been designed by orthopaedic surgeons working on commission, the greatest risks run by summer Olympians are the sort of strains and sprains that, while doubtless painful for the athlete, are merely tedious for the spectator.

Winter Olympians can crash luges and bobsleighs, wipe out off snowboards, clobber each other into hockey-rink barriers, careen off ski runs into forests and lose their balance mid-leap from the ski-jumping ramp to land with an audible fracturing of limbs. Even the relatively prim and genteel pastime of figure skating offers opportunities to descend from a height, at speed, onto a surface that’s as hard as cement but colder. Winter Olympians are – and the epithet is offered in respect verging on outright awe – total maniacs.

The full version of this piece was first published in Monocle’s Alpino newspaper. Read the rest of it here.

Monocle’s associate culture editor, Sophie Monaghan-Coombs, rounds up the stories that made the biggest impression on her this year. If you’ve missed any of them, go back and enjoy.

1.
Seven artists in their eighties and nineties
Some of the world’s most in-demand painters are octogenarians – or even nonagenarians. We visit seven studios across the globe to find out how they have honed their craft and what drives them to keep painting. 

2.
How Najwa Shihab became one of Indonesia’s most important voices
Broadcaster Najwa Shihab delivers the news to millions of Indonesians. We discover how she became a powerful media figure in one of the world’s most densely populated countries. 

3.
The stunt performers helping Europe’s film industry to reach new extremes
We visit an academy outside Barcelona that trains the next generation of stunt artists. As well as watching flips, jumps and nail-biting escapes from sinking cars, we see how – d