Despite some deceptively warm weather and bravado lent by colourful tulips, old man winter has arrived with a vengeance. Even here on usually temperate Cape Cod, we have been buried in snow and are facing two solid weeks where the temperature won’t rise above freezing. In weather like this, a woodland table feels particularly apt: bare branches, resting birds, and the promise that life is simply waiting its turn.
If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. So I reached for La Forêt by Gien, with a table I included in Entertablement—Twelve Months at the Table for January.
La Forêt is not a showy pattern. Its birds are small, alert, and quietly observant, perched among bare branches that feel unmistakably winter-bound.
Set against a soft blue floral tablecloth, the birds feel right at home.
The soft palette of stone, bark, smoke, and frost pushes texture to do most of the work. Rattan chargers bring warmth and a sense of the handmade.
And vintage smoke-coloured Bohemian etched glassware adds depth without sparkle for sparkle’s sake.
Traditionally known as seed month, January is a time when nothing appears to be happening, yet everything is quietly underway. In the depths of winter, like other gardeners, I find myself pouring over seed catalogues (paper and virtual) with optimism. We are making plans for growth that feels impossibly far off, but we know will come again.
The menu is simple: A substantial soup served from a pewter-coloured tureen. A seeded soda-bread loaf, cut thick, with butter soft enough to spread . Comfort food at its best.
Woodland themes endure because they mirror the natural rhythms to which we instinctively respond. Branches stripped bare against a winter sky, birds that stay put while others migrate, muted colours that reveal rather than conceal form—these are the details that become most visible in January. It’s a style that works year-round, but in winter—when the landscape itself is reduced to line and shape—it feels particularly apt.
Stay warm, everyone! February is right around the corner, and it’s a short month. Here in the Cape, we will then get what one of my neighbours calls March, March and March; then summer.
Ah, New England. Mark Twain described it as nine months of winter and three months of bad sledding. Not too far off, it seems.
On the Table
- Wine and water glasses; Vintage Bohemian crystal, c. 1930s, manufacturer unknown –
- La Forêt salad plates – Gien
- Cambria dinner plates in mushroom – Pottery Barn (discontinued)
- Tablecloth and Napkins – Brooke, Pottery Barn (discontinued)
- Flatware – Antique Bakelite-handled, manufacturer unknown
- Tureen – Pewter Stoneware Soup Tureen by Juliska
