For most of us, the Christmas plate is sacred: a symbol of seasonal sameness, wrapped around us like a wool blanket and embroidered with the early-morning scent of roasting fowl and the unceremonious unwrapping of gifts before Mass. The turkey is richly basted, the ham is glazed, the stuffing is mixed, and the sprouts are boiled to within an inch of their lives.
But even the most traditional tables allow for small rebellions. Think of the turkey curry buffet in Bridget Jones’s Diary, or Miles’s Christmas fettuccine in The Holiday. These moments remind us that the ritual has always been more flexible than we like to admit.
The big Irish Christmas dinner may not be up for full negotiation, but the subtle switching of a few well-chosen herbs and spices can work wonders. Here, six chefs bring their own histories, flavours and family memories to the table, adding a couple of international twists and tricks that feel right at home beside the roast potatoes and Brussels sprouts.
A Sicilian Christmas in Galway
Antonino luculano, head chef at Il Vicolo, Galway
“In Sicily, Christmas tastes of citrus and almonds. I remember my nonna peeling blood oranges while rosemary and garlic hissed in olive oil, food that glowed with warmth even in winter.
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“Here in Ireland, the turkey holds centre stage. To give it a Sicilian soul, I rub the bird with rosemary, sage, garlic, lemon zest, and olive oil from the slopes of Etna. The perfume as it roasts is like sunshine poured into the kitchen.
“For sides, I keep it playful: oregano-roasted potatoes, a fennel and orange salad for brightness, and my favourite twist, sprouts tossed with crushed pistachios and a drizzle of honey. Bitter, sweet, nutty, green, Sicily and Ireland shaking hands on the plate.
“Dessert should feel like mischief after Mass. Let the pudding have its moment, but give it a Sicilian cousin who dances on the table. I serve a cassata trifle: sponge soaked in Marsala, ricotta cream, candied peel, and shards of dark chocolate. It is decadent, light on its feet, and guaranteed to raise a smile.
“And to toast the day, choose a wine with soul. A Nero d’Avola from Vittoria brings velvet warmth, while a Nerello Mascalese from Etna offers pale, smoky elegance with the whisper of volcanic ash. Both sing with turkey, but in different keys.
“From my Sicilian family to every Irish table: Buon Natale.”
An Indian take on potatoes and greens
Sunil Ghai, chef-owner of Pickle, Camden Street, Dublin, and Tiffin, Greystones
If the goose leans towards tradition, Sunil Ghai brings a more vibrant detour. One of Ireland’s most celebrated Indian chefs, he sees potatoes, the cornerstone of Christmas, as a natural canvas for spice.
“Potatoes are the one ingredient that connects Ireland and India,” he says. “Back home, we would never eat them plain. There are endless ways to season, toast, crush, and finish them.”
His Mumbai aloo masala is a riot of flavour: mustard seeds popping in hot oil, chillies releasing their heat, Rooster potatoes tossed with ginger, turmeric and coriander, then finished with tomatoes, peanuts and butter. Another version, jeera aloo, is simpler, perfumed with cumin seeds and fresh coriander. It was the kind of dish his mother would pack for long train journeys, and it also feels right at home on an Irish Christmas plate. For something brighter, his aloo chaat mixes potatoes with fresh herbs and pomegranate, a side that “cuts through the heaviness of a big meal and wakes the palate.”
And for greens, instead of sprouts boiled into submission, Ghai offers chonkā lahsooni patta: baby spinach quickly tossed with garlic, fennel and cherry tomatoes. Fragrant, still bright, and served warm. “It takes seconds to cook, but it brings freshness to the table,” he says.
A Nordic touch in Ballymaloe
Rachel Allen, Co Cork
Rachel Allen, chef, food writer and teacher at Ballymaloe Cookery School in Cork, is one of Ireland’s most recognisable culinary voices. Her mother grew up in Iceland, so it is little wonder she often finds herself reaching for Nordic flavours when planning her own festive table.
For Christmas, the Scandinavian influence translates into a goose with a fruity twist, sweet-and-sour cabbage, and glossy caramelised potatoes, dishes you might expect to find in a Copenhagen or Reykjavik home at midwinter.
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The goose may have fallen out of favour in Ireland, but across Scandinavia it still reigns supreme at Christmas. Rachel fills hers with cranberries, apples, thyme and buttery breadcrumbs, a stuffing that feels familiar yet is lifted by sharp Nordic flavours. Spiced red cabbage simmered with vinegar, sugar and apples cuts perfectly through the rich roast meat. And then there are the potatoes: boiled until tender, then tossed in a buttery sugar glaze until they shine. Sweet, savoury and moreish, they are a festive Icelandic favourite and a striking alternative to roasties.
Together, the goose, cabbage and potatoes make a Christmas menu that feels both traditional and refreshed. It is Irish fare, simply given a Nordic icing.
A Japanese twist in Cork
Takashi Miyazaki, Ichigo Ichie, Cork
Irish Christmas inevitably means turkey leftovers. In Cork, at his Michelin-starred restaurant Ichigo Ichie, chef Takashi Miyazaki reimagines them through the lens of Japanese cuisine. His suggestion: tsukemen (cold ramen noodles served with a dipping broth).
“Christmas dishes here are beautiful, warm, comforting,” he says. “But they are heavy. This is lighter, more like a salad, something you can eat the next day for lunch or dinner.”
The turkey breast is gently cooked using a sous-vide method, then sliced alongside ham, Brussels sprout leaves, carrot and leek, and arranged over chilled ramen. The dipping sauce is simple but resonant: soy, chicken bouillon, ginger, garlic and sesame. It is a playful inversion of Christmas gravy, broth instead of sauce, noodles instead of roasties.
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In a season when fridges across Ireland are crammed with foil-wrapped turkey, this dish offers a way to reinvent the bird while still feeling celebratory.
A goose with French grace
Thomas Fialon, The French Table, Limerick
At The French Table in Limerick, chef Thomas Fialon suggests swapping the traditional turkey for roast goose, an older Irish custom with Continental flair. His goose à l’orange comes with sage and apricot stuffing, a recipe that recalls his grandmother’s kitchen in France.
“Cooking, for me, began around the family table,” he says. “My grandmother was an excellent cook and taught me to appreciate simple, wholesome flavours. Christmas was always about sharing those traditions.”
His version is rooted in classic French technique. The goose breast is seared slowly until the fat renders and the skin crisps, then paired with a stuffing enriched by pork, sage and dried apricots. It is served with a glossy orange jus and accompanied by braised red cabbage or sauerkraut, continental notes that sit naturally alongside Irish root vegetables and roast potatoes.
It is rich, celebratory and perhaps a little decadent. Exactly what Christmas should feel like.
A soul-food Christmas
Ruth Anokwute, Ruby Tuesday Soul Food, Dublin
For chef Ruth Anokwute, Christmas is a feast shaped by Ghana, Jamaica and London. “My house is made of Ghana and Jamaica, London,” she says. “So Christmas dinner is a fusion of culture.”
Turkey never appeared on her family’s table – “my mother did not like the taste” – but flavour certainly did. Instead, she remembers capon chicken rubbed with spice, roast lamb, curry goat and oxtail stew, alongside a Ghanaian groundnut soup with fufu.
Traditional trimmings were not forgotten, only adapted. Brussels sprouts, carrots, parsnips and pigs in blankets made appearances, while Paxo stuffing was transformed with garlic, ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg. Macaroni cheese was always there too.
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To drink, Guinness punch replaced sherry or mulled wine, creamy with condensed milk, cinnamon and nutmeg, made with a bottle of Nigerian-brewed Guinness. And dessert was rum fruit cake, close to Irish Christmas pudding but richer, the dried fruits soaked in dark rum for weeks.
Together, these dishes show that Christmas in Ireland is at once familiar and ever-changing. Goose or turkey, sprouts or soup, the flavours may shift, but the heart of the celebration remains the same with a table laden with food, family and memory.
