December in New Orleans doesn’t arrive with a whisper; it crashes through the door like your favorite cousin who forgot to knock, arms full of presents and a cooler of something inviting. The air turns crisp enough to make you reach for that jacket you swore you’d never need. Suddenly, the city transforms into something that feels like coming home, even if you’ve never left.

This is the month when New Orleans remembers what it does best: Gather people around tables that groan under the weight of love disguised as food.

Walk through any neighborhood in December and you’ll catch it, that unmistakable scent of somebody’s grandmother’s kitchen working overtime. Pralines cooling on wax paper. A pot of gumbo that’s been simmering since dawn, its roux dark as Mississippi mud and twice as rich. Red beans that have been talking to a ham hock all day long, learning its secrets. This is the food that doesn’t just fill your stomach. It fills the spaces between people, the gaps that distance and time try to wedge between us.

The holiday markets pop up like mushrooms after rain — the French Market overflowing with handmade ornaments and the smell of hot beignets mixing with cinnamon and pine. Jackson Square fills with carolers who can’t help but add a little jazz to “Silent Night,” because even our Christmas songs need to swing. And everywhere, everywhere, tables are being set, chairs borrowed and extra leaves being added to accommodate one more, two more, however many show up.

December is when the city stops pretending to be anything other than what it is: A big, messy, beautiful family reunion that lasts all month long because food is just love you can taste. That’s the thing about December in New Orleans. There’s always room for one more at the table.

This is the month when we pull out our mama’s recipes, written on index cards stained with decades of use. When we argue good-naturedly about whether the potato salad needs more mustard (it does) and whether the greens need more vinegar (they definitely do). When we let the kids lick the spoon from the cake batter and pretend we don’t see them sneaking cookies before dinner.

The restaurants know what’s up, too. They’re serving Reveillon dinners that honor the old Creole tradition of late-night feasting after midnight Mass. Turtle soup, oyster dressing, mirliton casserole — dishes that connect us to the generations who came before, who also gathered in December, who also understood that the best gift you can give someone is a seat at your table and a plate piled high.

As we head toward the new year, New Orleans doesn’t get quieter — it gets fuller. Fuller of laughter, fuller of stories, fuller of the kind of memories that stick to your ribs better than any roux.

Because here, we know the truth: December isn’t about the decorations or the presents. It’s about the people squeezed around your table, the food that brings them there, and the love that keeps them coming back.

12-11 belton brussels 2.jpg

PHOTO BY MONICA BELTON

Brussels Sprouts Gratin

3 tablespoons butter

1/4 cup shallots, sliced

2 cloves garlic, minced

32 ounces fresh Brussels sprouts, cored and halved

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

Pinch black pepper

1/4 teaspoon paprika

3/4 cup heavy cream

3/4 cup sharp white cheddar cheese, shredded

1/2 cup Gruyere cheese, shredded

6 slices cooked bacon, crumbled

Minced fresh parsley, for garnish

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Add butter to a large oven-safe pan or skillet and heat over medium heat. Add Brussels sprouts, shallots and garlic, seasoning with kosher salt, black pepper and paprika. Sauté, stirring occasionally, about 5-8 minutes.

2. Remove pan from heat, pour in heavy cream. Sprinkle shredded cheddar and gruyere cheese all over the Brussels sprouts. Top with crumbled bacon and bake about 12 minutes, until cheese is melted and bubbly.

3. Sprinkle with additional black pepper and minced parsley if desired.

12-11 belton ham 1.jpg

PHOTO BY MONICA BELTON

Sticky Sweet Glazed Ham

1 10-pound spiral cut ham

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 can regular Coca-Cola

1 tablespoon cornstarch, optional

Cooking spray

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Coat a large roasting pan with cooking spray and place the ham in the pan.

2. Rub the brown sugar all over the ham, making sure to get it in between the slices.

3. Pour the can of Coca-Cola over the ham.

4. Cover the ham and bake for 90 minutes, basting every 30 minutes.

5. Uncover and bake for 30 minutes more or until ham is browned and caramelized.

6. Remove the ham from the pan and place on a serving platter. Spoon the glaze from the bottom of the pan over the ham. See optional step below if you prefer a thicker glaze.

TO THICKEN THE GLAZE: Pour the ham glaze from the bottom of the roasting pan into a small pot and bring to a simmer. Whisk together the cornstarch with 2 tablespoons of cold water. Pour the cornstarch mixture into the pot, whisking constantly. Bring to a boil and cook for 1 minute or until glaze is thickened.

Dining and Cooking