It feels like the 57th day of January. Last week the coldest temperature of the winter so far (-12.5°C) was recorded about 20 miles west of my house. And according to every newspaper and social media feed I have scanned since new year, I should be purging my body of toxins by eating ‘plant-based meals’, abstaining from alcohol or otherwise giving up any semblance of comfort and joy.

But there is another way. This may be ‘the worst time of the year… the very dead of winter’, as T.S. Eliot described the season in ‘Journey of the Magi’, but we are still in Christmastide – right up until 2 February, or Candlemas.  

Twelfth Night used to be about fun and misrule, incorporating elements of the Romans’ midwinter festival Saturnalia. Now, the only orgy permitted is one of dusting decorations and denuding the house of every last twinkly light. But the ‘rule’ that taking down the tree has to happen on Twelfth Night is a fairly modern one. Traditionally,........

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