Christmas in Toronto, Our Way

Christmas in Toronto looked very different to anything I had known before. In those early years, it was either spent with other people or on my own. There were one or two Christmases where I flew back home to Cape Town, just to soak up the heat and catch some Dezemba vibes. Sometimes that was exactly what I needed to get through the winter months.

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When I stayed in Toronto, Christmas became something I learned to shape for myself. Some years I was invited into other people’s homes, sharing meals with friends who slowly became family. Other years were quieter. I cooked for myself, set the table just for one, and then happily ate leftovers for days after. It wasn’t sad. It was simple, and in its own way, grounding.

Then I got married, and Christmas shifted again. My husband’s family is also big on Christmas, and food has always been a big part of that. Much like me, he grew up around good food, with a grandmother who cooked beautifully and a mother who is an exceptional cook and baker in her own right. One tradition he grew up with was putting together a proper Christmas lunch menu, something I really loved and a tradition we naturally started adopting as our own.

So we started creating our own Christmas lunch menus. We thought about the dishes we both grew up with, and those we didn’t. The mains often overlapped easily. Beef tongue, gammon, roast beef. Those felt familiar to both of us.

Where the differences really showed was in the salads and side dishes. Things like sweetcorn fritters, which I didn’t grow up eating, and warm vegetable salads, which my husband wasn’t familiar with at all. Over time, those differences became part of the fun.

The salads usually reflected both of us too. A curry noodle salad, which my husband loves. A three bean salad, which will always be one of my favourites. Dessert, though, was where we truly met in the middle. Over the years we have enjoyed many desserts, some familiar to me, others new to him. But there is one classic that always makes its way onto the table. The Christmas trifle.

As our little one came along, Christmas shifted slightly, in the gentlest and most beautiful way.

We continued with our Christmas lunch menu, but the dishes began to evolve. Some stayed the same, becoming comforting favourites, while others changed as we wanted to try something different.

Christmas became a little more magical once we had our little one. The idea of Christmas, the gifts, the excitement around it all made me want to create experiences we didn’t necessarily have growing up. One tradition I decided to start was writing a Christmas letter from Santa. We leave out milk and cookies for him to enjoy, and it has become a small but special part of how we experience Christmas together.

Toronto Christmases are cold, but there is a coziness that comes with that. The city slows down. Streets are quieter. Homes feel warmer. Drinks changed too. Gone were the summer punches and soft drinks. In their place came mugs of hot chocolate, red wine, and Baileys. The food still anchored the day, but the rhythm was different. Slower. Softer.

Now, with our little family, Christmas in Toronto feels like home. Not because it looks perfect, but because it feels intentional. Built slowly. Season by season. With room to grow.

And maybe that’s the heart of it. Christmas doesn’t stay the same. It moves with you. It changes shape as your life does. And somewhere along the way, you realise you’re not just keeping traditions alive. You’re creating new ones.

More from this Christmas series

If you would like to read the earlier chapters in this Christmas reflections series, you can find them here:

✨Christmas Who Raised Me

🎄Christmas Through My Seasons