Christmas has a way of showing up early at my house – usually while the pumpkins are still on the porch.
We haven’t even made it to Thanksgiving yet, and here I am talking about Christmas. Maybe it’s because I’ll be flying home from working overseas the day before my newest book is released – or maybe it’s because Christmas has been living rent-free in my head (and heart) for the better part of two years.
Fifteen books in, this one feels different. It’s the most personal and one I’ve carried in my heart for decades. I’ve talked about writing it for more than 20 years, always saying I’d get to it “one day.” That day finally came. Robert St. John’s Mississippi Christmas is full of recipes, of course, but also stories – about the people, places, and memories that shaped what the holiday means to me.
Writing it sent me back to my childhood home on Bellewood Drive in Hattiesburg and the kind of Christmases that didn’t need snow or matching pajamas to feel right. My mother, a public-school art teacher, could make a home shine with imagination and a little help from two boys paid in cookies and guilt. We didn’t have much, but she made “not much” feel like everything.
The air back then smelled like cinnamon, bacon grease, and cigarette smoke – the official scent of a Hattiesburg December. Larry Foote roasted pecans so salty and perfect they disappeared before they cooled. His wife, Barbara Jane, handled the sweet side of things, baking cinnamon rolls that set the tone for the whole block. Mary Virginia McKenzie’s orange sweet rolls were the unofficial currency of Bellewood Drive. And the Webb sisters – three old-maid schoolteachers with matching bouffants – turned out gingerbread that never survived past Christmas Eve.
Digging through those memories reminded me why Christmas still matters. It’s about people, about sharing, and about that strange alchemy where casseroles and kindness somehow multiply. We didn’t have much, but the neighborhood made sure no one ever went without. You can’t fake that kind of community.
Robert St. John’s new cookbook, Mississippi Christmas, features holiday recipes and personal stories from the author’s childhood and family traditions in Hattiesburg. Photo Courtesy of Robert St. John
No one makes a book like this alone. The same way a Christmas table comes together dish by dish, this one did, too. Chef Linda Roderick – who has been by my side testing recipes for more than 20 years – knew exactly where to push and when to nod. Chef Scott Strickland was steady as ever. Kate Dearman captured the season through her lens in a way no lighting setup could. My wife, Jill, and our friend Justin Jordan handled staging and food styling, turning muffins, ribbon, and pinecones into something you can almost smell on the page. Anthony Thaxton, my one-man design team, pulled it all together with the same heart and precision that has made every project we’ve worked on better than I imagined.
Somewhere between recipe testing and final edits, my mother passed away. She was the one who gave me my love of Christmas – the one who could turn a lean December into magic with nothing more than imagination and heart. She’ll never hold the book, but her fingerprints are on every page.
I’m proud of it – not because my name is on it, but because it feels true to what a Mississippi Christmas really is: imperfect, homemade, family-oriented, and full of love and grace.
So yes, it’s early to be talking about Christmas. But there’s a reason for that.
The timing’s no accident. Before we roll into the holiday rush, this Sunday seemed the perfect moment to kick off the season – not with shopping, but with giving.
From 4:30 to 6 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 16, at Crescent City Grill, I’m hosting a Mississippi Christmas launch party. Everyone’s invited – you, your neighbors, their friends, and their families—and anyone who wants to ease into the holidays early. I’ll be there, pen in hand, happy to sign books, talk food, and share a little Christmas spirit. There will be Christmas music, good cheer, and food samples straight from the book. My wife, Jill, and our daughter, Holleman, will handle gift wrapping – free for anyone who grabs a copy. The book will be 15% off that day, but if you bring a new toy for a child at Thames Elementary, you’ll get another 5% off.
My team and I planned it before Thanksgiving on purpose – to lead with generosity before the rush begins. Thankfulness should come first. For every book sold at the party, I’m donating five Thanksgiving meals through Extra Table to feed our neighbors in need right here in Hattiesburg – families who deserve a holiday meal before we hang a single strand of tinsel.
When a copy goes home with you Sunday, you’ve already helped put food on a table before you even try the first recipe. It’s Christmas and Thanksgiving rolled together – the same thing: giving and gratitude. That’s what this season has always meant to me: faith, family, friends, food, fun, and finding small ways to pass along the blessings we’ve been given.
The book may be new, but the sentiment isn’t. It’s the same spirit that filled those kitchens on Bellewood Drive – the spirit of neighbors showing up for each other, of casseroles left on porches, of love shared quietly and often. That’s the Christmas I grew up with, and it’s the one this book tries to hold onto.
So yes, we’re starting early. But if you ask me, there’s no better time to remember what gratitude looks like – before the rush, before the wrapping, before the noise. It starts with a plate, a story, and the simple act of feeding someone else.
ORANGE AND BOURBON GLAZED DUCK FOR DREW
(From the book “Robert St. John’s Mississippi Christmas”)
My brother Drew and I were always wound up on Christmas Eve. He was four years older, but you’d never know it by how excited we both were. When we finally did drift off, it wouldn’t be long before he’d shake me awake before dawn, eyes shining like he hadn’t slept a wink. Those early mornings felt like magic.
Drew was more than a big brother. He sometimes took on a fatherly role when life called for it. I was grateful for that, even if I didn’t realize it then. It was the little things – showing me how to tie a hook right or letting me tag along on adventures that probably would have been easier without me there. But he never made me feel like a burden. That’s the thing about Drew – he always made room for me.
Now, Christmas often finds him out duck hunting in the Delta. He loves the hunt and the calm that comes with being out in the field before sunrise. I thought of him when I put together this recipe. It’s a little bit of Drew – those wild December mornings in the Delta and the quiet way he’s always looked out for me.
Serves 8
Ingredients:
2 ducks, 5–6 pounds each
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons fresh ground black pepper
1 orange
1/2 cup orange juice
3/4 cup blackberry preserves
1/2 cup bourbon
1/2 cup light agave syrup
2 teaspoons fresh garlic, minced
2 teaspoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Fresh herbs (thyme, rosemary, sage)
Directions:
■ One day ahead, dry ducks with a clean towel or paper towels. Using a skewer or fork, pierce the entire skin surface. Place uncovered on a rack over a baking sheet and refrigerate overnight.
■ Remove ducks from fridge. Tie legs together with butcher’s string. Stuff cavity with fresh herbs.
■ Preheat oven to 425°F. Let ducks sit at room temperature 30 minutes. Rub with salt and pepper. Place on a rack in a roasting pan. Roast 40 minutes.
■ While roasting, zest orange for 1 tablespoon of zest. Remove peel and cut segments, reserving juice. In a saucepan, combine zest, segments, juice, preserves, bourbon, agave, garlic, balsamic, and cayenne. Bring to boil, reduce, and simmer until reduced by half. Stir in soy sauce.
■ After 40 minutes, reduce oven to 350°F. Remove ducks and drain fat; save for cooking. Brush ducks with glaze and return to oven 20–25 minutes, until internal temp reaches 165°F.
■ For extra-crispy skin, broil 2–3 minutes, watching closely. Brush with remaining glaze and rest 20 minutes before carving.
Enhancement: Reserve duck fat for crispy roasted potatoes or sautéed Brussels sprouts.
Robert St. John is a restaurateur, author, enthusiastic traveler, and world-class eater from Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He has spent four decades in the restaurant industry, written 13 books, and written a syndicated newspaper column for more than 24 years. Read more about Robert at robertstjohn.com.
Posted in Columns
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 48 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
Dining and Cooking