- Robert St. John’s new book is full of recipes, of course, but also stories—about the people, places, and memories that shaped what the holiday means to him.
Christmas has a way of showing up early at my house—usually while the pumpkins are still on the porch.
We haven’t even made it to Thanksgiving yet, and here I am talking about Christmas. Maybe it’s because I’ll be flying home from working overseas the day before my newest book is released—or maybe it’s because Christmas has been living rent-free in my head (and heart) for the better part of two years.
Fifteen books in, this one feels different. It’s the most personal, and one that’s been sitting in my heart for decades. I’ve talked about writing it for over twenty years, always saying I’d get to it “one day.” That day finally came. Robert St. John’s Mississippi Christmas is full of recipes, of course, but also stories—about the people, places, and memories that shaped what the holiday means to me.
Writing it sent me back to my childhood home on Bellewood Drive in Hattiesburg, and the kind of Christmases that didn’t need snow or matching pajamas to feel right. My mother, a public-school art teacher, could make a home shine with imagination and a little help from two boys paid in cookies and guilt. We didn’t have much, but she made “not much” feel like everything.
The air back then smelled like cinnamon, bacon grease, and cigarette smoke—the official scent of a Hattiesburg December. Larry Foote roasted pecans so salty and perfect they disappeared before they cooled. His wife, Barbara Jane, handled the sweet side of things—baking cinnamon rolls that set the tone for the whole block. Mary Virginia McKenzie’s orange sweet rolls were the unofficial currency of Bellewood Drive. And the Webb sisters—three old maid schoolteachers with matching bouffants—turned out gingerbread that never survived past Christmas Eve.
Digging through those memories to write the book reminded me why Christmas still matters. It’s about people, about sharing, and about that strange alchemy where casseroles and kindness somehow multiply. We didn’t have much, but the neighborhood made sure no one ever went without.
You can’t fake that kind of community.
No one makes a book like this alone. The same way a Christmas table comes together dish by dish, this one did too. Chef Linda Roderick—who’s been by my side testing recipes for over twenty years—knew exactly where to push and when to nod. Chef Scott Strickland was right there beside us, steady as ever. Kate Dearman caught the feeling of the season through her lens in a way that no lighting setup ever could. My wife Jill and our friend Justin Jordan joined me in the staging and food styling, turning muffins, ribbon, and pinecones into something you can almost smell on the page. And my one-man design team, Anthony Thaxton—friend, collaborator, creative force—pulled it all together with that same mix of heart and precision that’s made every project we’ve worked on better than I imagined.
Somewhere between the recipe testing and the final edits, my mother passed away. She’s the one who gave me my love of Christmas in the first place—the one who could turn a lean December into magic with nothing more than imagination and heart. She’ll never get to hold the book, but her fingerprints are on every page.
I’m proud of it—not because my name is on it, but because it feels true to what a Mississippi Christmas really is: imperfect, homemade, family oriented, and full of love and grace.
So yes, it’s early to be talking about Christmas. But there’s a reason for that.
The timing’s no accident. Before we roll into the holiday rush, this Sunday seemed the perfect moment to kick the season off—not with shopping, but with giving.
From 4:30 to 6:00 p.m. this Sunday, November 16, at Crescent City Grill, I’m hosting a Mississippi Christmas launch party. Everyone’s invited—you, your neighbors, their friends, and their families—and anyone who wants to ease into the holidays early. I’ll be there, pen in hand, happy to sign books, talk food, and share a little Christmas spirit. We’ll have Christmas music, good cheer, and food samples straight from the book. My wife, Jill, and our daughter, Holleman, will be there handling gift wrapping— free for anyone who grabs a copy. The book will be 15% off that day, but if you bring a new toy for a child at Thames Elementary this Christmas, you’ll get another 5% off.
My team and I planned it before Thanksgiving on purpose—to lead with generosity before the rush begins. Thankfulness should come first. For every book sold at the party, I’m donating five Thanksgiving meals through Extra Table to feed our neighbors in need right here in Hattiesburg—families who deserve to sit down to a holiday meal of their own before we ever hang a single strand of tinsel.
So, when a copy goes home with you Sunday, you’ve already helped put food on a table before you even try the first recipe. It’s Christmas and Thanksgiving rolled together—the same thing, really: giving and gratitude.
That’s what this season has always meant to me. Faith, family, friends, food, and fun. And finding small ways to pass along the blessings we’ve been given.
The book may be new, but the sentiment behind it isn’t. It’s the same spirit that filled those kitchens on Bellewood Drive—the spirit of neighbors showing up for each other, of casseroles left on porches, of love shared quietly and often. That’s the Christmas I grew up with, and it’s the one this book tries to hold onto.
So yes, we’re starting early. But if you ask me, there’s no better time to remember what gratitude looks like—before the rush, before the wrapping, before the noise. It starts with a plate, a story, and the simple act of feeding someone else.
Come by Sunday if you can—bring your family, bring a friend, or just yourself. Everyone’s welcome. There’ll be food, laughter, music, and that same old spirit that never really left Hattiesburg.
Onward.
This Week’s Recipe: Orange and Bourbon Glazed Duck
My brother Drew and I were always wound up on Christmas Eve. He was four years older, but you’d never know it by how excited we both were. He’d be bouncing off the walls, too keyed up to sleep, while I’d follow his lead like I always did. When we finally did drift off, it wouldn’t be long before he’d shake me awake before dawn, eyes shining like he hadn’t slept a wink. Those early mornings felt like magic. Now, Christmas means he’s usually out duck hunting in the Delta, his favorite place on earth. He loves the hunt and the calm that comes with being out in the field before the sun rises. I thought of him when I put together this recipe. It’s a little bit of Drew—those wild December mornings in the Delta and the quiet way he’s always looked out for me.
Ingredients
2-each 5 to 6 pounds ducks
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons fresh ground black pepper
1 orange
½ cup orange juice
¾ cup blackberry preserves
½ cup bourbon
½ cup light agave syrup
2 teaspoons fresh garlic, minced
2 teaspoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Fresh herbs (thyme, rosemary, sage)
Instructions
Serves 8
One day in advance, dry the ducks well with a clean towel, or with paper towels. Using a skewer or a fork, pierce the entire surface of the duck skin. Place uncovered on a rack, over a baking sheet and refrigerate overnight.
Remove the ducks from the refrigerator and using butcher’s string, tie the legs together. Stuff the cavity of each duck with fresh herbs like thyme, rosemary, and sage for added depth of flavor.
Preheat the oven to 425° F.
Allow the ducks to sit out at room temperature for 30 minutes while the oven is heating.
Rub the ducks with salt and pepper. Place the ducks on a rack situated in a large roasting pan.
Place the ducks in the oven and roast for 40 minutes.
While the duck is roasting, zest the orange so that you have 1 tablespoon of zest. Use a paring knife to remove the rest of the peel from the orange. Cut the segments from the orange, reserving the juice. If you get a half cup of juice from the orange, great. If not, just add a little orange juice.
Place the zest, segments, orange juice, blackberry preserves, bourbon, agave syrup, garlic, balsamic vinegar, and cayenne pepper in a 1-quart sauce pot. Place over high heat and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat slightly and continue to simmer until it has reduced by half. Stir in the soy sauce.
After 40 minutes of roasting, reduce the oven temperature to 350° F.
Carefully remove the ducks from the oven and drain any accumulated duck fat. Save this! Duck fat is great for cooking, especially when frying potatoes or sautéing Brussels sprouts.
Brush the skin of the duck generously with the glaze and return to the oven. Continue roasting for 20 to 25 minutes, or until the duck reaches 165 degrees internally.
After roasting, place the duck under the broiler for 2 to 3 minutes to achieve extra-crispy skin. Keep a close eye on it to prevent burning.
Remove the ducks from the oven and brush them again with any remaining glaze. Allow the ducks to rest for 20 minutes before carving.
Enhancement
Duck Fat Utilization: Use the reserved duck fat to make crispy roasted potatoes or sautéed Brussels sprouts as a side dish.
