Death at the Village Christmas Fair by Debbie Young, a Review

 

Yet another book that fulfills my mystery trifecta – Christmas, a cozy mystery, and an English location (Cotswolds) — I quite enjoyed Death at the Village Christmas Fair by Debbie Young. It is the third in the series of Cotswold Curiosity Shop Mysteries. Reading it in July didn’t dim its festive magic; the Santa Run and bustling Christmas Fair in Little Pride wrapped me in that warm holiday glow I love. The Cotswolds setting felt like a dream, making me yearn to revisit those charming villages. Coming from a family of knitters, crocheters, seamstresses, and button collectors, the story’s focus on a button-adorned scarf hit so close to home. I could almost feel myself rummaging through my grandmother’s button tin, each one sparking memories, just like Alice’s mum’s nostalgic biscuit tin of buttons did for me.

 I found Alice Carroll, the Curiosity Shop owner and amateur sleuth, so relatable, though I’ll admit her naivety annoyed me a bit at times. Still, her heart and determination won me over, and I loved how her romance with Robert Praed felt real rather than cloying. The mystery, involving a murdered Santa and a stolen scarf with a valuable netsuke button, was straightforward but fun, perfect for when I’m craving cozy vibes over a tricky plot. Learning about netsuke was a delightful surprise, like finding a hidden gem in my family’s crafting stash.

 This book’s charm lies in its blend of humor, heart, and holiday spirit. Alice’s mum, with her quick knitting and witty remarks, felt like she could join my family’s crafting circle. Little Pride itself is so vivid it’s practically a character, making me long for that village life, murders aside. While the mystery isn’t the twistiest, it is the kind of story that feels like a warm blanket. As a Debbie Young fan, I’m torn between her Sophie Sayers series and this one, but Death at the Village Christmas Fair is a new favorite. For now, I wholeheartedly suggest this to anyone craving a festive, cozy escape, especially if you love Christmas and a good button jar memory.

You can order your copy here.

 Disclaimer: I received an advanced digital copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

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Espresso Chocolate Cheesecake: A Show-Stopping Dessert

 

The trees were up and sparkling beautifully, my stacks of Christmas cards ready for mailing, so it was time to host my first party of the season: a ladies’ luncheon on a crisp Sunday in December. A table full of wonderful women, a beautiful setting, and the star of the afternoon—an Espresso Chocolate Cheesecake that disappeared faster than the prosecco.

I’d spotted a version of this recipe in Garden & Gun magazine and immediately started tinkering (because who can resist the marriage of espresso and dark chocolate in creamy, dreamy form?). The result was rich, silky, and just caffeinated enough to keep the conversation sparkling all afternoon. The beauty of it is that it’s make ahead, so you can dazzle guests at your own holiday party without being frazzled when they arrive, so here it is—my slightly adapted, thoroughly tested, guaranteed-to-impress version.

Espresso Chocolate Cheesecake
(Serves 12–16, depending on how generously you slice)

For the crust
12 sheets graham crackers, finely ground (about 1½ c. crumbs)
2 T. sugar
⅛ t. cinnamon 
6 T. unsalted butter, melted

For the filling
3 8-oz. pkgs. cream cheese, softened 
2 8-oz. pkgs. mascarpone, softened
1 c. sugar 
3 shots fresh espresso (about ⅓ c.), cooled 
2 T. unsweetened cocoa powder
1 t. pure vanilla extract
4 large eggs, at room temperature

For the dark chocolate ganache
8 oz. Ghirardelli 60% chips
1 c. heavy cream
1 t. light corn syrup (optional, for shine)

 For garnish
1 c. heavy cream, whipped to stiff peaks
Chocolate-covered espresso beans (Melissa’s are my favorite)

Preheat oven to 325°F. Mix graham cracker crumbs, sugar, cinnamon, and melted butter. Press into the bottom of a 9-inch springform pan. Set aside. 

In a food processor, blend cream cheese and mascarpone until smooth. Add sugar, espresso, cocoa powder, and vanilla; process until silky. Add eggs one at a time, pulsing just until incorporated—don’t overmix. 

Pour filling over crust. Place springform pan into a larger roasting pan and add hot water until it reaches halfway up the sides (classic water bath).

Bake 1 hour. Turn off oven, crack the door slightly, and let cheesecake rest inside for 1½ hours. This slow cooling is the secret to a crack-free top. 

Chill at least 24 hours (yes, really—patience pays off). 

Make the ganache: Heat 1 cup cream until tiny bubbles form around the edge. Pour over chopped chocolate, wait 2 minutes, then whisk until glossy. Whisk in corn syrup if you want extra shine. Spread over chilled cheesecake and refrigerate 1 hour.  Whip remaining cream, pipe a pretty border, and scatter chocolate-covered espresso beans like edible jewels.

 Slice, serve, and watch your guests swoon. This cheesecake is holiday magic in a springform pan—rich enough to feel celebratory, but with that subtle espresso kick that keeps everyone coming back for “just one more tiny sliver.”

 Happy baking, and may your season be filled with good friends, full glasses, and zero cracked cheesecakes!

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From Skeptic to Superfan: How Glass Straws Completely Won Me Over (And Why They’re the Perfect Stocking Stuffer!)

I have a confession to make: I was once the person who rolled my eyes at glass straws. “Too fussy,” I thought. “Probably tastes like drinking through a thermometer.” I swore I’d never be that person. Then a gorgeous new set of glassware arrived at my door—four bottom-heavy tumblers (two smooth, two delightfully ridged)—and tucked inside the box were four crystal-clear glass straws. I promptly exiled them to the junk drawer, convinced they’d live there forever.

Fast-forward a few weeks. I ran out of my usual plastic straws (yes, I’m a straw person—wrinkle warnings from my aunt be damned), and there sat those glass beauties, freshly washed in the dishwasher. Desperate for my 3 p.m. cold-brew fix, I gave one a try.

First sip: weird. It felt… bony. Like sipping through a very elegant icicle. Second sip: hmm, not terrible. By the end of the glass: I was officially smitten.That’s why I chose glass straws as my final product recommendation of the week leading up to Christmas. 

Here’s why:

  - They never collapse or turn into soggy paper mâché (looking at you, eco-friendly paper straws). 
- The thick borosilicate glass keeps drinks colder longer—perfect for iced coffee or sweet tea. 
- They’re ridiculously pretty glinting in the sunlight on my table. 
- Dishwasher-safe = zero effort. Just drop them in the utensil basket and done.

If you’re still hunting for the perfect little Christmas gift or stocking stuffer, grab a set of glass straws. They’re unexpected, eco-friendly, and genuinely delightful. Trust the former hater turned evangelist: whoever finds one of these in their stocking on Christmas morning is going to be delighted.

Sometimes the best gifts are the ones we never knew we needed… until we can’t live without them.

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My Epic Fail: Alfred Hitchcock's Quiche Lorraine from a 1981 Celebrity Cookbook

  

People always ask where I get ideas for the recipes on my blog. Some are my own inventions, some are carefully tested winners, and others… well, let’s just say they’re spectacular disasters that never see the light of day.

Until now.

I recently decided to dive into one of my vintage cookbook treasures: Celebrity Cookbook by Johna Blinn (1981). Naturally, I went straight for Alfred Hitchcock’s Quiche Lorraine. The Master of Suspense sharing his personal recipe? How could I resist? Spoiler: it was downright scary—and not in the fun, thrilling way.

I followed the recipe almost exactly (the only change was using one onion instead of two—trust me, two would have been impossible). But even with that adjustment, this quiche was a complete catastrophe. 

Here’s what went wrong:

- The filling calls for sautéing onions, then layering them into the crust. Even after draining, they released so much moisture during baking that the bottom crust turned into sad, soggy mush.

- The custard method—beating eggs with seasoning, adding hot milk, then cooking on the stovetop until thickened before pouring into the shell—was a total disaster. It turned lumpy and never set properly in the oven.

- The final result? One cautious bite confirmed it was inedible. The rest went straight down the drain.

This was my first quiche that required pre-sautéing vegetables and making a stovetop custard, and I’m convinced neither step belongs in a proper Quiche Lorraine. Classic versions are simpler and far more reliable. I suggest trying this recipe, it is the most delicious quiche that I think I’ve ever tasted, it’s also one of the simplest to prepare.

If you’re feeling brave (or just love kitchen horror stories), here’s the recipe exactly as printed. Proceed at your own risk. 

Alfred Hitchcock’s Quiche Lorraine

For the Pastry:

2 c. pastry flour

½ c. cold butter, cut into small pieces

1 egg yolk

1 pinch salt

¼ c. cup cold water

For the Filling:

2 or 3 slices cooked ham, diced

2 onions, sliced

4 large eggs

1 pinch cayenne pepper

Light grating of nutmeg

2 c. hot milk

Work butter into flour until mixture resembles coarse sand. Add egg yolk, salt, and enough cold water to form a firm dough. Wrap ad chill 1 hour.

Roll out half the dough to line a 10-inch pie pan. Prick base with fork, crimp edges. (Reserve remaining dough for another use.)  

Scatter diced ham over crust. Sauté onions in butter until soft but not browned; spread over ham.

 Beat eggs with salt, cayenne, and nutmeg. Gradually whisk in hot milk. Cook mixture over low heat, stirring constantly, until it thickens. Pour into prepared crust.

Bake at 375°F for about 30 minutes, until custard is set and top is golden. Serve hot.

I’m now officially hesitant to try any other recipes from this particular celebrity collection. Lesson learned: even legends can have off days in the kitchen.

Have you ever tried a celebrity recipe that bombed spectacularly? Share your kitchen disasters in the comments—I could use the solidarity!

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Orange-Kissed Cranberry Walnut Rolls

 

Orange-Kissed Cranberry Walnut Rolls are soft, lightly sweet, jewel-red cranberry-studded rolls that scream holiday breakfast, or anytime the Christmas lights are still up!

These rolls have become my new December obsession. I was expecting dense, chewy fruit bread like the ones I grab at fancy bakeries, but these surprised me: they’re soft and almost feather-light inside with a thin, sugary-crisp lid. Think brioche meets a winter morning. They’re perfect warm with butter for Christmas dinner, but honestly? Split one the next morning, toast it lightly, and slather it with clotted cream and raspberry jam and you’ll hear angels sing.

One dough, two easy finishes:

Dinner version → egg wash + a few flakes of fleur de sel (so good with turkey or ham)

Breakfast version → egg wash + sparkling raw/turbinado sugar that crackles when you bite   

They freeze beautifully, so make a double batch now and you’ll have warm rolls ready through New Year’s!

Orange-Kissed Cranberry Walnut Rolls

 Makes 12 large rolls

 

 1 c. coarsely chopped walnuts

3½-4 c. bread flour (start with 3½)

1 T. packed dark brown sugar

1½ t. fast rising yeast

1½ t. salt

1½ c. whole milk

2 T. vegetable oil (plus a little for the bowl)

1 large egg

1 c. Melissa’s dried cranberries

Zest of 1 orange

 2-3 T. orange juice for soaking cranberries

1 egg, beaten (for glaze)

Raw (turbinado) sugar OR fleur de sel for topping

Toast walnuts in a dry skillet until fragrant, about 5 min. Cool.

Soak cranberries in orange juice 15–60 min; drain.

Warm milk to 95–100°F.

 In stand mixer with paddle: mix 3½ cups flour, brown sugar, yeast, salt. Add warm milk, oil, and 1 egg. Beat on low until a shaggy ball forms (~1 min). Add walnuts, drained cranberries, and orange zest. Switch to dough hook.

 Knead on low 4–5 minutes, adding flour 1 Tbsp at a time only if dough is very sticky. Finished dough should be smooth, elastic, and just slightly tacky.

 Knead by hand 1–2 minutes, shape into a ball, place in oiled bowl, cover, and let rise at room temp until almost doubled (1¾–2 hours).

 Divide into 12 equal pieces. Shape into tight, smooth balls (cup hand over dough and roll in small circles on the counter).

 Place on parchment-lined sheet, spray lightly with oil, cover loosely with plastic. Let rise until 1½ times size (~1½ hours).

 Brush with beaten egg, sprinkle with raw sugar (breakfast) or fleur de sel (dinner). Rest 15 more minutes.

 Preheat oven to 425°F → put rolls in, immediately drop temp to 400°F. Bake 15–17 minutes total, rotating pan halfway, until deep golden.

 Cool on rack. Serve warm or freeze up to 3 weeks (reheat wrapped in foil at 350°F for 10 min).

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Why Charlotte MacLeod’s Rest You Merry Is the Cozy Christmas Mystery I Re-Read Every December.

 

There are a handful of books that, for me, officially kick off the Christmas season. Mistletoe, carols, and twinkly lights are lovely, but nothing says “it’s December” quite like curling up with Charlotte MacLeod’s Rest You Merry—the hilarious, clever, and surprisingly heartwarming first book in her beloved Professor Peter Shandy series, that ultimately ran ten novels. It started as a short story, but was so popular that MacLeod was encouraged to turn it into a novel, wherein the short story became the opening chapter.

 Picture this: Balaclava Agricultural College in rural Massachusetts is in full holiday frenzy. Every December the campus transforms into the “Balaclava Grand Illumination,” a garish, money-spinning tourist spectacle that would make Clark Griswold blush. Peter Shandy — propagator of the world's most renowned rutabaga — a mild-mannered, tenured horticulture professor who just wants a quiet Christmas with a glass of good sherry and zero blinking reindeer, finally snaps. In a glorious act of passive-aggressive rebellion, he hires a decorating company to smother his historic faculty house in the tackiest, most over-the-top light display imaginable… then promptly boards a cruise ship to escape the fallout.

Fate, of course, has other plans. The ship breaks down, Shandy returns early, and he walks into his living room to find the college’s nosiest librarian dead beneath his mechanized Santa display—apparently killed while trying to sabotage his decorations. The police call it a tragic accident. Peter Shandy, being a detail-obsessed academic with a Poirot-level intolerance for loose ends, smells murder. And that, dear reader, is how a grumpy agronomy professor becomes one of the most endearing amateur sleuths in cozy history.

What makes Rest You Merry so irresistible, even 45 years later, is how perfectly it captures the classic cozy formula while feeling completely fresh. The small New England college town functions exactly like a traditional English village: everyone knows everyone, grudges go back decades, and secrets hide behind every poinsettia. MacLeod populates this world with larger-than-life characters—the fearsome President’s wife, the ancient endowment-obsessed benefactress, the perpetually starving graduate students—who deliver some of the wittiest, snappiest dialogue I’ve ever read in a mystery. Seriously, the banter is champagne-bubble sharp.

 Shandy himself is a delight: prim, precise, secretly sentimental, and armed with an encyclopedic knowledge of turnips and ornamental grasses that somehow proves essential to solving crime. By the end of the book he’s acquired a leading lady (the marvelous Helen Marsh) who becomes his perfect foil in the nine sequels. Yes, I’ve read them all—multiple times—and yes, I’m a die-hard Anglophile cozy reader who rarely strays from British settings. The fact that a Massachusetts farming college stole my heart says everything.

If you love classic Golden Age vibes (think Agatha Christie with better one-liners and a New England winter backdrop), this is your book. It’s funny without ever being cute, clever without being smug, and genuinely Christmassy without drowning in sentiment. The audiobook, narrated by wonderful John McLain, is an absolute treat—perfect for wrapping presents or baking cookies.

So light the fire, pour the eggnog, and let Peter Shandy remind you that even the grumpiest heart can be won over by murder, mistletoe, and a truly outrageous lawn display.

Rating: 5 twinkling reindeer out of 5

 You can (and you MUST!) get a copy here.

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Christmas EveTablescape

 

Kicking off my holiday season with a cozy December 7th luncheon for friends felt like pure magic! I went all-in on classic red and green, but wrapped it in the warm, storytelling glow of Charles Dickens.

 

Center stage sits the wooden goose my dad carved back in the 80s when country geese were everywhere—I still adore him. 

 

He’s proudly flanked by candle-holding Ebenezer Scrooge on one side and Bob Cratchit carrying Tiny Tim on the other. 

 

Across from the goose, tall frosted glass trees I snatched up at Michael’s last year catch every bit of light. 

I started with my trusty holiday tablecloth, then added a simple Pottery Barn runner for quiet texture. Because more is more at Christmas, each place got a woven placemat from local shop, Three French Hens, topped with leafy green placemats from World Market for that lush, wintry feel. 

The plate stack is pure joy: sparkling red jeweled chargers, black-and-white plaid dinner plates from Pier 1, and bold red salad plates from 222 Fifth that cheerfully announce “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” 

 

My beloved KEAWELL “Versailles” flatware made another appearance—those delicate scrolls look born for candlelight. 

 

Drinks are served in frosted red Scandi-patterned water glasses (finally out of the cupboard after years!) and merry Waechtersbach Christmas Tree cups and saucers (yes, the matching teapot is waiting in the hutch). 

A 1988 Fitz and Floyd water pitcher from their “A Dickens Christmas” collection—passed down from my mom—pours the water with perfect nostalgia. Mikasa crystal snowflake votives sprinkle extra twinkle everywhere.

 

And the sweetest touch? A jar of Coop’s salted caramel sauce waits at every place setting as a remembrance of the day. Trust me, I’ve taste-tested caramel across three states; nothing comes close.

Here’s to tiny lunches, family treasures, and tables that feel like a hug. Happy holidays, friends—the season has officially begun!    

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his post is linked to: Tablescape Thursday