I’ve made versions of this vegetable-rich soup for most of my life, but never had a formal Minestrone recipe until today. Feel free to use more prosciutto, fewer carrots, or even a lonely celery stalk. I often add ditalini or another small pasta. If you have it, a chunk of rind from a wheel of Parmigiano-Reggiano adds subtle umami to the broth.
The fine mince of the sofrito melts into the soup, giving it complexity. One constant for me is the rough-textured cavolo nero. It is the star in the dish I first ate in Tuscany decades ago. Cavolo nero is now much easier to find in farmers’ markets and well-stocked produce sections.
This minestrone makes a flavorful base for ribollita, the hearty Tuscan dish in which soup is re-boiled with torn bread to create a savory bread pudding. Whether soup or ribollita, it’s perfection when you crave vegetables or simply need a warm hug in a bowl.
The fine mince of the sofrito melts into the soup, giving it complexity.
Ingredients
Scale
For the sofrito:
1 large carrot
2 garlic cloves
½ small red onion
2 oz thin-sliced prosciutto
For the soup:
¼ cup olive oil
2 large carrots, sliced in thin rounds
1 bunch cavolo nero or lacinato kale
6 to 8 oz green beans, cut in ½- to ¾-inch pieces
6 to 8 oz cauliflower, cut into small florets
2-inch chunk of Parmigiano-Reggiano rind, optional
15-oz can diced tomatoes in juice
1 qt (4 cups) low-sodium chicken stock
14 ½ to 15-oz can chickpeas or cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
Best quality olive oil
Grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
Instructions
For the sofrito:
Make the sofrito in a food processor, blitzing it into a very fine mixture, just short of pureed.
For the soup:
Warm the oil in a stockpot or large saucepan over medium heat. Stir in the sofrito and cook a couple of minutes until aromatic.
Stir in carrots, cavolo nero, green beans, cauliflower, optional cheese rind, tomatoes, and stock. Reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer, partially covered, for 30 to 40 minutes, until the vegetables are quite tender.
Add the beans and cook another 5 minutes. Add water if the mixture is no longer soupy.
Ladle into bowls. Drizzle oil over each bowl, and top with Parmigiano-Reggiano. Serve hot.
Story by Cheryl Alters Jamison Styling by Keith Recker Photography by Tira Howard
Rainbow chard, with its colorful stems, shines in this open-faced version of Greek spanakopita. In addition to rainbow chard, you can also use other varieties—or even a mix of chard, mustard greens, and kale—for a more complex flavor. Meanwhile, I chose salted butter to “paint” the filo dough because it enhances the flavor of the crust for this Chard & Feta Pie.
Furthermore, the walnuts, layered between the sheets of pastry, add texture and a nutty richness. To finish, I added an optional saffron aioli on the side—a quick, nontraditional sauce that acts like a ray of sunshine when dolloped over slices of the pie.
This open-faced Greek spanakopita features rainbow chard, buttery filo layers with walnuts for texture, and a bright saffron aioli for a sunny finish.
Ingredients
Scale
For the filling:
¼ cup olive oil
2 large leeks, sliced
2 large shallots, minced
4 garlic cloves, minced
1½ to 1¾ lb rainbow chard, chopped with the stems
2 tbsp dry white wine or lemon juice
½ tsp kosher salt
1 bunch fresh dill, chopped
12 oz feta, crumbled
2 large eggs, beaten
For the crust:
1 stick (8 tbsp) salted butter
¼ cup olive oil
½ lb frozen filo dough, defrosted in the refrigerator
½ cup walnuts, chopped fine
For the saffron aioli:
Big pinch of saffron threads
1 tbsp hot water
1 cup mayonnaise
Several drops of garlic oil
Instructions
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
For the filling:
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
Warm the oil in a large skillet or saucepan over medium heat. Stir in the leeks and shallots and sauté until soft. Add the garlic and cook another minute.
Stir in the chard, which will likely fill the pan to overflowing. Combine it with the leek mixture, add the wine and salt, and cover the pan. Cook for 5 minutes, then uncover, stir, and continue cooking until the chard is very tender. The liquid will evaporate, but the mixture should still be moist.
Remove from the heat and stir in the dill, feta, and eggs.
For the crust:
Oil a heavy 9-inch skillet or a round deep-dish baking vessel several inches deep.
Prepare the pie’s filo crust. Work quickly so that the filo doesn’t dry out. First, melt the butter together with the oil in a small pan. Have the walnuts nearby as well as a pastry brush. Have a damp towel ready to place over the filo once it is unwrapped. When prepared to layer the filo dough, open the package and unfold the filo. You will need about half the sheets.
Lay a sheet into the skillet with its edges overlapping, then quickly brush all over with the melted butter mixture. Scatter a teaspoon or so of walnut pieces over. Repeat with the layers of filo, turning each sheet about a quarter-turn each time, so that the overhanging dough covers the entire rim of the skillet.
Scoop in the filling and smooth it. Fold some of the interior layers of filo inward, over the filling. Leave some of the outer layers sticking up, like broken shards. Bake for 50 to 55 minutes, or until filo is golden brown.
Let the pie cool on a baking rack for at least 15 minutes before slicing. It can be served warm or at room temperature. Present it whole to show off its pretty design, before cutting it into wedges. Pass the optional aioli on the side.
For the saffron aioli:
While the pie cooks, make the aioli, if you wish. Stir together the ingredients, adding garlic oil to taste. Cover and refrigerate if not using soon.
Story by Cheryl Alters Jamison Styling by Keith Recker Photography by Tira Howard
This year marks Mark Kiffin’s 25th anniversary as owner of The Compound Restaurant. Throughout those two-and-a-half decades, the mission has remained constant: to serve the kind of classically inspired, high-end cooking you’d find in New York, Paris, or London but without the fuss, and in a sophisticated yet relaxed setting. For Executive Chef Weston Ludeke, it’s about sourcing the very best ingredients, adding a touch of nostalgia, as well as always making you feel at home.
Fall Comfort Fare from The Compound Restaurant
Apple Cider Risotto
A humble goulash or hearty winter stew is the starting point for this risotto of Carnaroli rice – with its firm texture, high starch content, and long grain—lardons, roasted butternut squash, and then an apple cider reduction to finish it off. “You can take the idea of goulash and savvy it up into a risotto. It doesn’t necessarily need to be beef – it can be smoky pork, it can be butternut squash, it can be maple and cider and all of those things that sit on the stove all day long,” comments Ludeke. This is comfort food at its most comforting.
Grilled Bone-In Veal Chop for Two
It’s all about bounty with this grilled veal chop for two. And while the veal might be the star, the sides aren’t slouches either, from the vibrant fall ratatouille to the playful baked chilaquiles with chimichurri for a hit of freshness and a veal demi-glace for richness. It’s like a classic steakhouse but with everything working in harmony, Ludeke says. “By focusing on the sides just as much as we do the sauces and the protein itself, it’s that same idea except you have the confidence that everything is going to be great together.”
Kale and Brussels Sprouts Salad
For Chef Ludeke, the better the ingredients, the simpler a dish can be, like this winter salad that showcases seasonal stalwarts kale and Brussels sprouts, with Honeycrisp apples, Medjool dates, crumbled goat cheese, toasted pecans, and a zingy lemon vinaigrette. “If you put a lot of effort into sourcing your products, you don’t need to take so much effort in changing those products,” he says. “You can let them be themselves, let them speak for themselves.”
Pappardelle ai Funghi
This homage to mushrooms was inspired by one of the ultimate winter comfort foods: beef stroganoff. “It’s beef stroganoff but it’s vegetarian and it’s everything you want, from egg noodles by way of fresh pappardelle, which gives you a little more length, a little more softness, a little more chewiness,” Chef Ludeke says. “And you know what? You feel like you’re on the Amalfi Coast, except you’re warm because you’ve got Dijon mustard, and cognac, and Worcestershire and heavy, heavy DOP parmesan coming through the sauce notes.”
Story by Julia Platt Leonard Photos by Tira Howard Food by Executive Chef Weston Ludeke, The Compound
These Savory Kale, Cheese, and Cornmeal Scones make a bright breakfast bread, but they also pair beautifully with a bowl of soup later in the day. The cornmeal adds texture, while buttermilk brings tang. Mustard greens lend little bursts of flavor balanced by slightly salty pecorino cheese. A smear of savory butter is welcome, though not necessary—the scones are moist enough on their own.
These savory scones blend cheddar, pecorino, and mustard greens into a tender cornmeal dough, creating a rich, cheesy bite with hearty texture and golden crunch.
Ingredients
Scale
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup stone-ground yellow cornmeal
¼ cup sugar
1 tbsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
1 tsp fine sea salt
12 tbsp (1½ sticks) unsalted butter, well-chilled and cut into small bits
2 oz grated (about ½ cup) cheddar
2 oz finely grated (about 1/3 cup) pecorino, plus more for sprinkling over the top
1 cup buttermilk
¾ cup finely chopped mustard greens
1 medium egg, beaten
Flaky salt
Instructions
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Cover a baking sheet with a silicone mat or parchment paper.
In a food processor, whir together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
Scatter the butter and cheeses over the dry ingredients and pulse the mixture just until it resembles coarse meal.
Pour in the buttermilk and pulse the mixture just until combined.
Turn the dough out onto a floured work surface and scatter the mustard greens over it. Gently pat out the dough and fold it back over itself about a half-dozen times, until smooth. (A dough scraper helps with this.) Don’t overmix.
Divide the dough in half and pat it out again into two ¾-inch-thick disks. Refrigerate the dough for 30 minutes. Cut each disk into 6 plump pie-shaped wedges.
Transfer the scones to the prepared baking sheet. Brush the scones with the beaten egg. Sprinkle with pecorino and flaky salt. Bake for 13 to 15 minutes, until golden. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Story by Cheryl Alters Jamison Photography by Tira Howard Styling by Keith Recker
Blend this cheerful Verde Kale Smoothie beverage to kick-start your morning. The ginger adds zing to the greens and herbs, while apples offer natural sweetness. The TABLE crew liked it so much we joked about adding vodka later in the day. Porqué no?
If you think salads are just for summer, feast your eyes on this winter recipe, Winter Chicories Salad with Persimmons and Avocado. Combine crisp leaves from the chicory family—escarole, frisée, Belgian endive, speckled Castel franco radicchio, and red radicchio in both head and Treviso spear varieties.
Nestled among the greens are chunks of avocado, pomegranate arils, sliced beets, pepitas, and show-stopping orange persimmons. The Fuyu variety, squat and round, can be eaten crisp or soft like an apricot. You may also find Hachiya persimmons, which must ripen to custardy softness to eliminate their astringency. They’re great for scooping with a spoon, though they won’t hold shape in a salad.
This recipe can brighten the coldest day. Assemble it with a mix of leaves from the chicory family. A sweet-savory miso dressing ties the flavors together beautifully.
Think fresh-from-the-garden greens and you may think summer. But spare a thought—and a place on your plate—for some winter greens recipes. Not only are cold-weather greens like cavolo nero, escarole, and endive stunning to look at, they’re also versatile workhorses in the kitchen. Cheryl Alters Jamison takes us on a tour.
Greens with Character
My late husband had a sports car in a color called “British racing green,” so beloved in the U.K. that it’s sometimes simply termed BRG. It’s not a single Pantone shade, but a range of striking greens. I couldn’t help but think about those hues while assembling this gorgeous mix of winter greens.
Summer may offer a kaleidoscope of vegetables, but it doesn’t have the corner on beauty. Winter produce holds its own stunning array of possibilities—and many of them should make summer green with envy.
Kale comes in a mix of colors and degrees of curliness. I’m especially partial to cavolo nero, or lacinato kale, the rough-textured, long, slim variety in deep forest green. The chard family offers varieties with stoplight-colored stems, while tangy mustard greens and collard greens shine simply cooked with a bit of pork. They can also add color and nutrients to dishes as diverse as scones and blended drinks.
If you thought green salads were a summer fling, feast your eyes on this winter mix of chicories—escarole, endives, and radicchios in varying colors and shapes. I’ll race you into the kitchen.
Winter’s Palette of Greens in Cheryl Alters Jamison’s Recipes
I’ve made versions of this vegetable-rich soup for most of my life, but never had a formal Winter Green recipe until today. Feel free to use more prosciutto, fewer carrots, or even a lonely celery stalk. I often add ditalini or another small pasta. If you have it, a chunk of rind from a wheel of Parmigiano-Reggiano adds subtle umami to the broth.
The fine mince of the sofrito melts into the soup, giving it complexity. One constant for me is the rough-textured cavolo nero—the star in the dish I first ate in Tuscany decades ago. Cavolo nero is now much easier to find in farmers’ markets and well-stocked produce sections.
This minestrone makes a flavorful base for ribollita, the hearty Tuscan dish in which soup is re-boiled with torn bread to create a savory bread pudding. Whether soup or ribollita, it’s perfection when you crave vegetables or simply need a warm hug in a bowl.
Rainbow chard, with its colorful stems, shines in this open-faced version of Greek spanakopita. You can also use other chard or a mix of chard, mustard greens, or kale. I chose salted butter to “paint” the filo dough because it enhances the flavor of the crust.
The walnuts, layered between the sheets of pastry, add texture and a nutty richness. On the side, I added an optional saffron aioli—a quick, nontraditional sauce that acts like a ray of sunshine when dolloped over slices of the pie.
These scones make a bright breakfast bread, but they also pair beautifully with a bowl of soup later in the day. The cornmeal adds texture, while buttermilk brings tang. Mustard greens lend little bursts of flavor balanced by slightly salty pecorino cheese. A smear of sweet butter is welcome, though not necessary—the scones are moist enough on their own.
Blend this cheerful emerald beverage to kick-start your morning. The ginger adds zing to the greens and herbs, while apples offer natural sweetness. The TABLE crew liked it so much we joked about adding vodka later in the day. Porqué no?
If you think salads are just for summer, feast your eyes on this winter winter green recipe. Combine crisp leaves from the chicory family—escarole, frisée, Belgian endive, speckled Castelfranco radicchio, and red radicchio in both head and Treviso spear varieties.
Nestled among the greens are chunks of avocado, pomegranate arils, sliced beets, pepitas, and show-stopping orange persimmons. The Fuyu variety, squat and round, can be eaten crisp or soft like an apricot. You may also find Hachiya persimmons, which must ripen to custardy softness to eliminate their astringency. They’re great for scooping with a spoon, though they won’t hold shape in a salad.
A sweet-savory miso dressing ties the flavors together beautifully.
Recipes and Story by Cheryl Alters Jamison Styling by Keith Recker Photography by Tira Howard
A dynamic exhibition merges printmaking, photography, and ceramics to explore identity, time, and evolution.Cara and Diego Romero: Tales of Futures Past showcases the work of photographer Cara Romero (Chemehuevi) and potter Diego Romero (Cochiti Pueblo). The married artists engage in an artistic dialogue between their mediums in this traveling show organized by the Figge Art Museum in Davenport, Iowa. The Albuquerque presentation also includes additional works from New Mexico museums.
A Visionary Collaboration for Cara and Diego Romero’s Tales of Futures Past
The exhibition features 35 works — including 16 of Cara’s photographs, 15 pottery pieces by Diego, and several collaborations. Together, the Romeros examine the complexities and ongoing evolution of Indigenous identity. Their works fuse elements of popular culture, ancestral tradition, and the supernatural to create protagonists empowered by their Indigeneity. These figures move through changing worlds, rewriting historical narratives and challenging viewers to rethink time, heritage, and belonging.
“There’s great humor and sarcasm in this serious show,” says William Gassaway, Assistant Curator of Art at the Albuquerque Museum. “It’s not a solemn show. These are powerful ideas about rewriting history, advocating environmental consciousness, and celebrating Indigeneity. Yet it disarms with humor and lush color. It’s a visual delight and an intellectual deep dive.”
According to Gassaway, these themes are not new to New Mexico or the museum. “Cara’s work especially emphasizes Indigenous futurism, while Diego comments on the ludicrous conspiracy theories surrounding the ancient Maya and alien influences,” he notes. “We hope visitors will feel comfortable moving through time — backward to the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, through the present, and into an imagined, hopeful future.” Check out Cara and Diego Romero: Tales of Futures Past today!
Cara and Diego Romero: Tales of Futures Past is organized by the Figge Art Museum, Davenport, Iowa.This exhibition is made possible in part through the generous support of the Carl & Marilynn Thoma Foundation.
There’s never been a moment when there hasn’t been a community table at Cafe Pasqual’s in New Mexico. We’re capturing how this gathering space embodies the ethos of the restaurant — from the ingredients it sources to the way staff treat guests with warmth and care. We take a seat at the community table and meet some of the regulars.
The Origins of the Community Table at Cafe Pasqual’s in New Mexico
Katharine Kagel – executive chef and owner of Cafe Pasqual’s – knew a central “big” table would work almost fifty years ago when she first opened the restaurant. She’d seen it, experienced it, at a restaurant she frequented when she lived in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Besides, the building on the corner of Water and Don Gaspar may have been a Texaco gas station in the early 1900s, but it’s been home to restaurants since 1923. Earlier inhabitants sported prosaic names like Liberty Café, K.C. Waffle House (whose sign outside read: “Here food is served at its best. Great Atmosphere. Excellent Service”), Mayflower Café, Golden Temple of Conscious Cookery, and Pogo’s.
Hospitality is in the bones of this spot, and nothing is more hospitable than the community table.
A Table with History
In a touch of serendipity, the community table and the whole building in which it sits both date back to 1905. In normal worlds you’d call that a coincidence, but at Cafe Pasqual’s it feels more like kismet. Kagel explains that the table seats eight in a perfect circle but in day-to-day life with the leaves in, “It can seat ten happily, eleven, or twelve slightly unhappily,” Kagel laughs.
The Power of Shared Meals
Granted, it’s not for everyone — the idea of sitting with a group of strangers and sharing a meal. But watch the people who declined an invitation to sit at the community table, and you might see them change their minds as they watch the laughter, sharing of food, and eureka moments of discovered shared histories, mutual friends, and even hometowns.
Strangers who wouldn’t think of making eye contact on a busy city street are suddenly exchanging forkfuls of griddled corn cakes and calabacitas in exchange for a bite of Oaxacan tamales, with a third chiming in that yes, the Hall of Fame egg salad sandwich merits the moniker.
The Regulars
And when some of the faithful community table diners – people who make Pasqual’s and the big table their second home – gathered for lunch, the laughter and stories flowed as freely as the coffee and iced tea. Regulars like Sheryl Magnuson, who travels to Santa Fe once a week from her home in Albuquerque for breakfast at Cafe Pasqual’s, admit that the ritual means something special. “I’ve had just about everything (on the menu). I think about it on the drive here.” And as soon as she walks in the door, they’re already making her mocha super-hot, just the way she likes it.
Or Rita and Scott Hemmig, who moved here in 2015. When I ask Scott if they moved here because of Cafe Pasqual’s, he says laughing, “Hell yes!” After countless meals they still remember what they ate the first time: Rita had the griddled polenta and chorizo and Scott had the huevos barbacoa.
Familiar Faces and Favorite Orders
Augustine Sanchez – you’ll recognize him by his picture-perfect mustache, stylish hat, and a Cafe Pasqual’s bandana tied jauntily around his neck – likes the grilled bison burger. Bill Fisher, on the other hand, admits that he ate the Blue Lady Chicken Enchiladas for nineteen days running. He says the kitchen kept track, wondering when he’d finally order something else. Mary Emerling and Reg Jackson date their courting days to Cafe Pasqual’s. They’re community table regulars and say Kagel saw the sparks and created romantic opportunities for them at a nearby booth.
A Place for Connection
There’s something liberating about dining at the community table—a license to be freer and more lively. Perhaps it’s no wonder that at least two couples met at the big table and went on to name their firstborn sons Pasqual. Kagel still has the baby snaps they sent. She figures they’re in their forties now and hopes one day they’ll walk in and say, “I got named after your restaurant.”
The Staff’s Perspective
It’s not just the guests who have a soft spot for the community table either – it’s the staff who duck and dive in tight quarters to refill water glasses, take an order for a slice of bittersweet chocolate pecan pie, or package up some Mexican wedding cookies to go. Roblair Richter has been with Pasqual’s for over 20 years and sometimes takes a spot at the community table for a much-needed breather and bite to eat once he’s finished work. One time he sat down next to a young woman visiting Santa Fe from Uganda. They talked for a long time, swapped numbers, and have been pen pals for over five years. Despite the time difference and thousands of miles between them, they text nearly every day.
While community table newbies may be reluctant to take the plunge, Richter says they’re invariably happy they did. “‘I’m not sure I really want to sit there,’ they’ll say, but when they do, they end up talking to people and they go, ‘Oh my god, it was the best experience I’ve had.’”
The Heart of Cafe Pasqual’s
A friend of Kagel’s whom she met in Kyoto, Japan once visited and spent an entire day sitting at the community table. At the end of lunch service, Kagel emerged from the kitchen to hear her friend announce that Cafe Pasqual’s wasn’t a restaurant. Kagel gazed down at her food-splattered apron. “Okay, if it’s not a restaurant, what is it?” Kagel asked. “She said, ‘It’s a sanctuary.’”
And if Cafe Pasqual’s is a sanctuary – which I believe it is – then the community table is both its geographic center and spiritual heart. A welcome place for anyone wanting rest, food, and above all, welcome.
Story by Julia Platt Leonard Photography by Tira Howard Shot on location at Cafe Pasqual’s
A gorgeous solstice table set by Hayward Simoneaux with artisanal wares from his Truchas boutique, Eight Million Gods.
Winter often gets a bad rap. Yet in New Mexico, it’s a glorious mash-up of fluffy snowflakes, azure skies, fragrant burning piñon logs, and golden sunlight. When the shortest day of the year approaches, people around the world celebrate the Winter Solstice. Among them was a group of friends who gathered at Eight Million Gods in Truchas to honor ancient traditions and create new ones of their own.
Mr. Simoneaux himself.
Finding Warmth in Truchas
New Mexicans get off relatively easy in winter. However, around 4:45 p.m., it can feel as if an iron door slams shut, locking out the light. The dark and cold linger too long until the sun returns. Still, just when the season might start to wear you down, preparations for the Winter Solstice begin. The celebration of the longest night of the year signals hope for brighter days to come.
Cornbread brushed with hot honey butter.
This is where we found a merry group of eight friends. They included a dance instructor, a practicing Buddhist psychologist, a lawyer, a retired art consultant, and a specialty retail shop owner. They gathered at Eight Million Gods, an international folk art store in Truchas owned by Hayward Simoneaux. For two decades, he was the visionary behind the beloved Todos Santos Chocolates and Confections in Santa Fe.
A Feast for the Longest Night
Details of the wonderful table set by Hayward Simoneaux at Eight Million Gods.
They swapped stories, shared jokes, and drew strength from one another over a hearty winter stew. The meal featured slow-cooked chipotle chile-beef with pinto beans, green beans, corn, and tomatoes. Guests dressed up their bowls with sliced radishes, cotija cheese, and other toppings. To complete the meal, there was warm cornbread brushed with hot honey butter. For drinks, everyone enjoyed a chilled mulled wine spritzer.
Dessert carried its own meaning. Hayward treated the group to an apricot and chocolate-filled yule log cake—a nod to one of the oldest Winter Solstice customs from Scandinavia. Once a sacred log soaked in wine and herbs, it was decorated with ivy, holly, or pinecones and burned over several days. The longer it burned, the more good fortune it was said to bring.
Just when you think the darkest season might break your spirit, mark the Winter Solstice’s promise of lighter and brighter days to come with candlelight, friends…and a feast!
Global Traditions, Shared Light
Meanwhile, as this group gathered in Truchas, others celebrated around the world—many through food. In Asian Winter Solstice traditions, for instance, sweet treats often take center stage. South China and Taiwan enjoy Tangyuan, soft glutinous rice balls, while Northern China celebrates Tongzhi with dumplings. Meaning “winter arrival” in Mandarin, Tongzhi marks the peak of yin (darkness) and the return of yang (light).
A winter stew of slow-cooked chipotle chile-beef with pinto beans, green beans, corn, and tomatoes.
In Iran and other Persian-speaking countries, communities celebrate Shab-e Yalda, or “night of rebirth.” Believed to be the peak of evil, the longest night inspires people to stay awake by fireside and candlelight. They recite poetry from The Divan of Hafez, a revered 14th-century collection. Common foods include pomegranates, whose seeds symbolize dawn’s glow, and dried fruits and nuts that provide warmth and strength through the cold.
Likewise, in Japan, some people take hot baths infused with yuzu citrus to prevent illness and attract good fortune. Across the world, pilgrims visit the ancient solar sites of Newgrange in Ireland and Stonehenge in England to witness the solstice sunrise. At the same time, Mayan spiritual leaders in Central America perform sound baths, chanting circles, and blessings.
Even in North America, gatherings have evolved to include candlelight vigils or bonfires. In New Mexico, Pueblo communities mark the sun’s return with dances, storytelling, and prayer sticks. Others reflect and set intentions while walking along farolito-lit streets dotted with glowing piñon towers.
Light in Every Culture
Regardless of origin, all these traditions share a belief—rooted in ancient, earth-based faiths—that honoring the Winter Solstice helps guide us out of darkness. Fittingly, Eight Million Gods made the perfect host for such a gathering. Hayward chose the store’s name from the Japanese Shinto religion, which teaches that gods—or positive forces—exist in everything.
As guests wandered through the space, meaning radiated from every item. Latin American silver Milagros (miracles) promised hope. Vintage Indian kantha quilts, sewn from recycled saris, seemed to whisper stories of their pasts. A Hopi Heheya Kachina offered fertility and rain, while a “Brahma the Creator” mask symbolized divine power and sacred knowledge.
A Celebration of Spirit and Art
“What better way to come out of hibernation,” Hayward said, “than a festive meal with friends?” The evening’s blend of décor, table setting, and food reflected Eight Million Gods’ curated collection of art, clothing, and home goods from diverse cultures and traditions.
Finally, as the night came to a close, Hayward smiled and said, “We cap it all off by opening the ultimate shared party favor—a handmade Surprise Ball brimming with hidden gifts!”
The Sun Returns
Thanks to early civilizations’ spiritual, architectural, and agricultural devotion to the sun, humanity continues to share soulful Winter Solstice traditions today. From the Egyptians’ worship of Ra to the Mayan solar pyramids, Babylonian astronomy, and the stone temples of Newgrange and Stonehenge, the story of light unites us all.
In the end, only the almighty sun could inspire such a worldwide celebration of renewal.
Story by Cullen Curtiss Photography by Tira Howard Food by Julia Platt Leonard Shot on location at Eight Million Gods, @eightmilliongods
