From Christmas Biscuits to Fishes in the Wind
via An Abundance of Cinnamon and Knot Charms that Can Heal & Harm
Dearest Gentle Reader,
I hope all is well with you on this freezing November day. I hope I don’t disappoint when I tell you that this letter is bought to you by biscuits. At this time of year, I feel that biscuit appreciation has nearly reached its annual peak so hopefully this is perfect timing. There will also story, food folklore and history.
The biscuits to which I refer aren’t just any biscuit, they are Cinnamon knots from the festive range at Waitrose. I nearly missed them, they seemed a bit pricey for what was essentially a fairly plain sounding biscuit but I left them in my online order and safely stowed them in the box of festive treats. They would have remained untasted until nearly Christmas when it was too late to reorder and I would have deeply regretted my lack of forethought.
However, quite by chance, this slightly sad picture has been averted by the combined offices of the talented Ella Risbridger and the Aldi festive range. Ella commented on Instagram about how they were the embodiment of all things Christmas on the same day I went to Aldi and found the identical biscuits.
Reader, I bought them and saved them for a rare breakfast in bed with books at the weekend. They simply are Christmas, there is nothing else to be said. Crunchy buttery biscuit dusted with cinnamon sugar, not too crunchy, not too dense. Have you ever had a danish butter cookie out of crinkly paper from a small round perfectly decorated Christmas tin? These knots taste like you always wanted those to taste.
I wanted to share the news with absolutely everyone. However, maybe we could keep it just between us? When I went back to Aldi for more, there were only (gasp) Caramel Sticks left, until I rummaged around the back of the boxes and retrieved a slightly battered box of these precious Cinnamon Knots which I suspect someone else may have hidden. So, it would appear that the secret is already out and if you wish to claim these delicious delicacies for yourself you would be wise to keep the knowledge under your hat.
I can’t just be an advert for baked goods from the Aldi and Waitrose festive range, particularly as this letter remains unsponsored so I thought I could share some folklore and a little history and superstition about knots and cinnamon as well as an Estonian story about knots as well.
I think we’ll start with cinnamon. It has, like the history of many spices, a troubled, tangled tale incorporating amongst other tragedies colonialism, horrific mistreatment of native peoples and environmental damage starting from 2000 BCE. A sweet spice made from the bark of the cinnamon tree, it was highly valued across the ancient world particularly in Egypt as perfume or embalming oil for the dead. Although traders told fabulous tales to disguise where it was from such as that cinnamon grew in shallow lakes guarded by winged animals or grew in deep glens infested with poisonous snakes.
Ancient Greek historian Herodotus, described enormous birds carrying cinnamon sticks up to their mountain top nests. Locals would cut huge cuts of donkeys and oxen and leave out for the birds, who would take them to her nests; the weight of the meat would mean the nest would fall and the cinnamon sticks could be collected! Pliny the Elder (23–79 CE) however boldly declared, “All these tales…have been evidently invented for the purpose of enhancing the price of these commodities.”
Cinnamon was also popular in Ancient Rome where it was burned at funerals to honour the dead as well as used in medicines and in the kitchens of the very wealthy. Apicus who was the Roman trend leader for foods even praised it in his cookbook. It was also said in Roman society that there was a legend said that the phoenix bird would build its nest out of cinnamon and cassia sticks. It was incredibly expensive, with a pound costing the equivalent of the wages the average Roman labourer earned in four years. If that doesn’t make you reflect on how much you sprinkled liberally over your chai latte at your local coffee shop, I don’t know what would.
It was brought home to the mediaeval courts of Europe from those who fought in the crusades and there is even a recipe for a type of cinnamon toast in the earliest cookbook in English, The Forme of Cury from 1390. It has plenty of folklore and superstition ranging from rituals blowing cinnamon into a cleaned front doorway to your home to ensure abundance in the month ahead. It is possible that because of the reputation cinnamon has for luxury and rarity it is considered a spice that attracts love and financial abundance by those who use foods to influence their life outcomes. It is also said that when burned on charcoal as incense it is good for aiding meditation and clairvoyance.
The fascination of cinnamon cannot quite be matched by knots but they do try hard. In parts of Spain, it is customary to tie up the corner of a handkerchief in a knot if you have misplaced something and can’t find it. If you really need to recover the lost item, you can tie up several corners. In many cultures around the world—including Celtic, Hindu and Egyptian weddings—the hands of a bride and groom are literally tied together to demonstrate the couple's commitment to each other and their new bond as a married couple (giving us the popular phrase "tying the knot").
Celtic knots are a fascinating element of Celtic heritage, they are a type of infinite, looped knot that is used in artwork and sculpture. There are many different types of Celtic knots, but they all share similarities in that they are endless knots, with no distinct start or end. Many Celtic knots are inspired by basket weave knots, believed to be among the very first artwork carried out by humans. There’s no one single Celtic knot meaning, as each style of knot has slightly different meaning – and they can also be interpreted in different ways, depending on the school of thought. It’s generally accepted though that Celtic knots stand for interconnection. The endless nature of these knots highlight the cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth.
Knotted thread charms were used in Scotland to cure sick humans and cattle although other tales tell of different and darker knotted thread charms which were meant to cause impotence. Another piece of Scottish and Scandinavian folklore tells of sailors buying knotted thread charms. It was believed witches would 'sell the wind' in a cord with three knots; untying the first would bring a fine breeze, the second a high wind, the third a destructive storm.
Remember this folklore as I share our tale inspired by an Estonian folktale:
A fishing village beside the sea had seen its share of good years... and its share of bad years. This year was one of the bad ones and the fishermen were beside themselves. Bellies were rumbling all over the village because it was the end of the season and barely a fish had been found in a net.
The fishermen gathered together and racked their brains. What could they do? It was too late in the year to go out to sea, but to stay at home would mean certain ruin.
So they thought and thought, then resolved to try their luck.
“Perhaps the sea will take pity on us and send something into our nets at least!”
Then one fisherman said:
“I don’t know whether it’s true, but they say Old Man Eero used to be friendly with the Sea Queen herself. He must know how to get a good catch.”
“I seem to remember something about that too,” said a second. “I was still a boy when my grandfather said that Eero had some special thing that lured the fish at all seasons. Why don’t we go and see the old man. Perhaps he’ll give us it to try our luck.”
Old Man Eero’s house was right on the edge of the village. He had once been a brave and successful fisherman. But time had long since bent his back, and now he had not only stopped going out to sea, but rarely crossed the threshold of his little house. Yet when the fishermen knocked on his door, Eero went out to them and said:
“I know why you have come to me, friends, and this is what I have to say: a good fisherman relies on his skill and the strength of his hands, not on good luck. But you have taken on a hard task. You are going out to sea before the season, and the sea does not like that. Never mind, go ahead bravely, and I will help you.”
So saying Old Man Eero took the kerchief from his neck and showed it to the fishermen.
“See the three knots in this kerchief. The first will bring you a fair wind. Undo it as you hoist the sail. The second will draw the fish into your nets. Undo it as you cast them. And the third must never be undone. Woe betide you if you do. And one another thing. Be content with what the sea sends you. Whatever your catch, do not cast your nets a second time.”
“Don’t worry, Eero,” replied the fishermen. “We’ll do just as you say. We give you our word.”
“Remember that a seaman’s word must never be broken,” the old man said, handing the fishermen his kerchief.
All night long the fishermen pitched their boat and mended their nets. By morning all was ready.
The fishermen jumped into the boat and pushed off.
They were soon out of the gulf and hoisted the sail. The captain pulled out Old Man Eero’s kerchief and said:
“Let’s undo the first knot.”
They undid the first knot. At once a fresh wind blew up, filled the sails and sent the boat racing along.
It sailed splendidly, turning without the rudder and cutting the waves like a knife. The fishermen sailed far out into the open sea. Suddenly the wind dropped, the sail went limp and the boat stopped.
“This must be the place the old man was talking about,” said the fishermen. “Let’s cast our nets here.”
So they all set to work. They lay anchor, spread out the nets and cast them into the sea.
“Now undo the second knot!” cried the fishermen.
The captain took Old Man Eero’s kerchief out of his jacket and undid the knot. No sooner had he undone it, than there was a great rippling and splashing in the sea that made the floats on the nets bob wildly.
The fishermen waited until everything had calmed down, then cautiously began to pull in their nets. Never before had they been so heavy. The fishermen had to pull with all their might. At last the edge of the nets appeared above the water. They were teeming with fish. The silver scales glittering so brightly in the sun dazzled their eyes.
“Heave ho, my lads!” the captain ordered.
The fishermen tugged at the nets and the fish tumbled into the boat.
“It’s a fine catch!” said one of the fishermen. “Thanks to Old Man Eero.”
“That’s as may be,” replied another fisherman. “But to last all of us until the start of the fishing season, we need three catches like that. Shouldn’t we cast the nets again, friends?”
“What are you saying?” exclaimed the youngest fisherman. “Remember what Old Man Eero told us: be content with what the sea sends you.”
“Ah, the needs of the old and young are small indeed,” laughed the captain. “But we’d be ashamed to go home with a boat that’s not full to the brim.”
So the fishermen cast their nets again.
But this time they were not so lucky. The nets they hauled in were empty. They hadn’t caught a single fish.
The fishermen’s spirits fell, but the captain said:
“That’s because we haven’t undone the third knot in Old Man Eero’s kerchief. It’s no ordinary kerchief, as you yourselves can see. Each knot brings success. There is one left, so we will undo that too. Then our boat will be full up.”
“But, captain,” the oldest fisherman now spoke up. “Old Man Eero told us not to touch that knot.”
“You’re an old man yourself,” replied the captain. “And old men have a well-known saying — don’t try your luck a third time. But there’s another saying too — only a fool turns down good fortune.”
“That’s for sure,” said the fishermen. “Let’s give it a try then! Undo the knot, captain.”
The captain had been holding the kerchief ready for some time. He tugged at the knot and undid it. The sea roared, the waves rose up over the stern, and the floats on the nets danced madly.
“There go the fish!” said the captain. “I told you so!”
The fishermen were so overjoyed they could hardly wait until it was time to haul in the nets. Again, like the first time, the nets seemed very heavy. But fishermen are a strong breed. They hauled the ropes together hard and pulled out the net. But wait a minute! What was that! There was only one fish in the net. A huge pike with a blunt tail, as if the end had been chopped off with an axe.
“Did you ever see the likes of that!” exclaimed the fishermen, flinging the pike angrily into the boat.
Meanwhile the sun was sinking low on the horizon. The sea grew calmer with the approach of sunset.
Suddenly some voices drifted over the quiet water. The fishermen jumped up and looked about them.
“Who else has hunger driven out to sea?” they wondered.
But there was no sign of a boat anywhere.
“It must have been a seagull,” the captain said.
Then they heard the long, vibrant sound of a horn, like someone calling the cows in the village. And a woman’s voice asked:
“Everyone awake? Everyone at home?”
“Yes, everyone except that fool without a tail,” replied a young girl’s sweet voice.
Then the horn sounded again, even louder and longer.
Suddenly the pike in the boat began to thresh about.
It opened its sharp-toothed mouth wide and jostled the other fish with all its might. But the captain kicked it and shouted loudly to the crew:
“Raise anchor! I don’t like the look of this. Let’s be off as fast as we can.”
The fishermen raised the anchor and turned the boat towards their native shore.
But what was this! No matter how hard they plied the oars, the boat would not budge. As if the sea had frozen or the boat become rooted to the seabed. They pulled hard together, but it did not move an inch.
All night long the fishermen laboured, flinging down the oars in despair, then picking them up again to have another try, but to no avail. It seemed that nothing on earth could move the boat.
When the first flush of dawn appeared in the east they heard the strange voices again.
“Everyone awake? Everyone at home?”
“Everyone’s awake and at home except that fool without a tail. There’s still no sign of him.”
Then came the sound of the horn again and the tinkling of little bells. Suddenly the fish in the boat stirred. Opening its sharp-toothed mouth and moving its gills, it began to wriggle up the side of the boat.
“What’s that monster up to now?” muttered the captain. Suddenly he thought: “Perhaps that’s who they’re waiting for.”
The captain jumped up, grabbed the pike and threw it overboard.
At that very moment someone far away, perhaps on the seabed, clapped their hands and cried happily:
“Look, look! That fool without a tail is swimming home. In such a hurry that he’s blowing bubbles!”
The fishermen heard no more. A terrible wind arose and the waves roared so loud that the fishermen could not even hear one another.
The boat was swept away by the waves.
All day the fishermen were tossed about in the raging sea. The boat would fly up as if to the clouds, then plunge down, down to the very depths. The old men could not remember such a storm in all their days.
Towards evening they reached a rocky island. The fishermen jumped ashore and dragged the boat onto dry land.
“What island is this?” they asked one another. “Where has the storm taken us?”
Suddenly, a woman appeared from behind a craggy cliff. Over her head and body she wore a cloak of bright blue, and the raindrops bounced right off of it. Her eyes were a sparkling emerald green. When she walked, her feet seemed to flow across the ground, like the tides. When she spoke, her voice was as smooth as water.
“Welcome, men. Welcome. I see from your boat that you must be fishermen. And yet fishing season is over, and the next season is months and months away! Tell me: why are you out to sea now?”
The Captain straightened himself up a bit before addressing the woman. “Well, madam. As the Captain of this fishing vessel I can answer that question. You see, luck escaped us this past season and we didn’t catch any fish. So, we thought we’d try again! We had no idea this terrible storm would blow in and lead us astray.”
The woman arched her eyebrows. “I see. Well, come. I will take you somewhere so you can change into dry clothing and enjoy a nice, hot meal. Once we get there, you must tell me the whole story of how you came to land in this place”
The woman led the fishermen to a warm, dry cabin. As the men sipped hot bowls of soup and listened to the wind howl down the chimney, the Captain told the woman everything that had happened. Well... almost everything. Although he mentioned the knots on Old Man Eero’s kerchief, the Captain left out the part about untying the third, forbidden knot. As the woman listened, she began to smile. Her green eyes sparkled more than ever. Their shimmer was like sunlight on the water.
“Hmmm. Eero, eh? I used to know this Eero, back when he was a young fisherman. If you ask me, it sounds like he used that first knot to send you to the pastures of the Queen of the Sea. I’ve heard she keeps many fish there, all of them with glittering silver scales, but they’re too clever to be caught. That must be why Eero had you untie the second knot: to lure those clever fish in! But this storm… you’ll never find any storms in the pastures of the Queen of the Sea! The skies are always blue and the winds are always calm. Always!”
The fishermen were about to speak up and tell the woman the truth… how they had broken their promise to Eero and untied the third knot… but the Captain stopped them, saying “Never any storms, eh? How very odd! The world is full of mysteries, isn’t it? Now, though, we ought to get some sleep. We’ve had quite an adventure!”
The woman agreed and left the fisherman to their rest. That night, the rain kept falling and the waves kept crashing, but the fishermen slept soundly in the cosy cabin. When they awoke, they saw the woman. She was still in her cloak of blue, with her sparkling eyes of green and her voice like water.
“Good morning, men! How did you sleep?”
The Captain yawned and stretched. “Well, I, for one, slept wonderfully well!” The fisherman agreed “Indeed, it’s a very comfortable place you found for us, miss. But outside the rain keeps falling and the wind keeps blowing. There’s no way our boat can make it home in this weather and our hungry children are waiting for us. What do you think we should do?
The woman smiled and asked if they still had Eero’s kerchief?
Luckily, they did. The Captain had looped it around his wrist just before the storm struck. He handed it to the woman. She gazed at it fondly and said “You know? I thought this kerchief sounded familiar when you described it. I’ve actually seen it before – back when I first made Eero’s acquaintance.”
She held the kerchief up to get a better look. “Only… I could have sworn Eero’s kerchief had three knots in it. You told me you untied the first two knots, so shouldn’t there be one more knot left? I certainly don’t see one…How odd. The world is full of mysteries, isn’t it… Captain.”
The Captain blushed. He knew he was in trouble. He admitted that when she had asked them to tell their story, he had left out one teensy-weensy detail. Like how he might have told his crew to untie the third knot”
The woman frowned. When she did, the men could have sworn the wind picked up, and the crashing of the waves grew louder.
“Oh, Captain. So not only did you disobey Eero… you didn’t tell me the truth! You do know who I am, don’t you?”
Suddenly, it dawned on the captain. This woman with the bright blue cloak… the emerald-green eyes… and the voice smooth as water… she was none other than…
“Are you the Queen of the Sea!?”
“Yes... I am. And as such, I must say, I’m rather disappointed in you! But, look. I can see you have been punished enough already. For the sake of the hungry people of your village… and for the sake of my old friend, Eero… I will help you.”
The Queen of the Sea held the bright red kerchief up in the air, and began to tie a knot in it. As she drew the knot tight, the wind dropped and the waves grew calm... as if there’d never been a raging storm in the first place! The fishermen were amazed.
“Listen up, my friends, and listen closely, I need all of you to promise me one thing: from now on, you will keep your word every bit as firmly as I’ve tied this knot.”
“Of course! We will keep our word, your majesty!”
The Captain promised.
“Good. Now, come. The storm is gone. Let’s go back to your boat!”
The Queen of the Sea led the fishermen back to the seashore, which was now bathed in sunlight. As the men hoisted the sail of their boat, the Queen waved her hand and a light breeze blew in. Next thing they knew, the boat was racing over the calm, crystal-clear sea. The Captain turned his head back to call out thanks to the Queen of the Sea... but... she had vanished.
The fishermen’s boat moved so swiftly, the men reached their village in just a few hours. They were greeted joyfully by their friends and families. And the first fish they’d caught on their adventure… the ones they’d stashed in the bottom of the boat, before the storm… that catch fed the whole village until the official start of the fishing season. Then the fishermen headed back to sea again.
For the rest of their days, the men would always remember the lesson the Queen of the Sea had taught them: that fisherman should keep their word as firmly as the knots they tie in their ropes.
And, you know? Fishermen aren’t the only ones who should keep their word. Maybe we’d all do well to remember the Queen’s lesson, too.
So with this tale of fish and fancy, Gentle Reader, I must bring this letter to a close. Please don’t hesitate to get in touch via the comments or via any of mysocial media profiles/my website . If you have enjoyed this and would like to read further such nonsense and have not yet subscribed, please don’t hesitate to subscribe for free at the button below. You’d be very welcome and it would be a joy to write to you.