Wassail! The Curious, Cozy, and Slightly Strange History of Your Holiday Cup

Today’s blog entry drew inspiration from several sources, including more Christmas traditions, the lore behind Wassail, and a flashback visit to The Royal Dumpe Dinner Theatre. The "Dumpe" is a long-running dinner theater in St. Louis, Missouri, offering a lively blend of medieval-themed comedy, music, and interactive dining. The venue recreates 16th-century England, featuring humorous performances with bawdy wit and audience participation that have made it a local entertainment tradition for over five decades.  Guests are welcomed to a Renaissance court presided over by “King Henry VIII” and his entourage of jesters and serving wenches. The show combines vaudevillian humor, period costumes, and live music, evoking the spirit of old English tavern entertainment.

In this flashback, it seemed like we yelled “Wassail” every few moments. What was all the excitement about? Let’s take a peek, shall we?

Every December, somewhere between my first peppermint-laced something and the last viewing of Elf, I find myself staring at a steaming mug of something spiced and thinking, “Why is this called Wassail?” And more importantly, “Why does anyone ever sing to a tree?” Turns out, Wassail is a tradition older than most of our Christmas playlists, and it’s as quirky as it is delicious.

The term originates from the Old English phrase “waes hael,” which roughly translates to “be well” or “good health.” So, every time you lift a mug, you’re basically saying, “Here’s to your health, and maybe a little extra magic.” But Wassail isn’t just a toast. It’s a drink, usually a hot mulled cider or ale spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and sometimes a cheeky splash of brandy. Imagine a medieval version of your favorite winter cocktail, minus the fancy barista foam, plus a lot more shouting at fruit trees.

Wassailing started in the English countryside, long before the Pinterest boards and Instagram holiday lights. Villagers would gather in orchards, singing to the apple trees in hopes of a bountiful harvest. You read that right: they literally sang to trees. And not in a quiet, reflective way. They banged pots, waved sticks, wore masks, and made enough noise to scare the fruit into growing. If you’re imagining a chaotic, tipsy outdoor concert with cider mugs in hand… congratulations, your imagination is spot on.  Some accounts even say that folks would offer the first drink of Wassail to the trees themselves. No word on whether the trees appreciated it, but I like to think they did, at least a little.

Fast-forward to now: modern Wassail is much calmer. Most of us sip it by a fire, with maybe some caroling on the side, but without the pot-banging and tree-shouting. You can find recipes all over the place—spiced cider with orange slices, a cinnamon stick, maybe a drizzle of honey. Warm, fragrant, and entirely worth curling up with.

It’s a little tradition that connects us to the past while still feeling perfectly cozy in the present. And honestly, a hot mug of spiced Wassail in December is about as close to medieval magic as I want to get.

Wassail is delightfully strange, and that’s exactly why we love it. Strange traditions make the holidays memorable; they make us laugh, connect with friends and family, and sometimes, just sometimes, let us shout at trees without judgment. Maybe it’s the stories, the shared laughter, or the warm mugs… Wassail reminds us that holidays were always about joy, connection, and a little bit of chaos.

This year, pour yourself a steaming mug of Wassail. Raise it high. Toast to health, happiness, and maybe even a few apple trees (your neighbors will understand). And if you feel like singing, well, don’t worry, nobody’s watching. After all, a little chaos, a lot of warmth, and a mug of spiced magic, that’s what holiday traditions are about. Cheers!