“A Christmas Prince” & Rumple minze

Some of our favorite Christmas nights come from what we half-jokingly call rhyming hygge: pairing two cozy elements that shouldn’t quite work, but somehow feel inevitable once they’re together. This night’s rhyme was deliberately imperfect—A Christmas Prince and Rumple Minze. One offered cinematic warmth, predictability, and royal fantasy; the other delivered an icy, bracing chill. Together, they formed a Christmas evening built on contrast, ceremony, and just enough indulgence to feel crowned rather than careless.

We leaned fully into the royal theme from the start. Invitations announced a cordial summons to a holiday evening at the Sommerfeld court, accompanied—naturally—by Queen Anne cherry cordials. A mid-20th-century Christmas candy icon, their glossy chocolate shells and boozy cherry centers set the tone immediately: nostalgic, indulgent, and just formal enough to feel intentional.

Once home, Christmas crowns came out early and stayed on long past dinner, instantly shifting the night from weekday routine to courtly occasion. Family crests were displayed and colored, cherry cordials were arranged like favors from the crown, and the kitchen island took on the feel of a modest banquet table rather than a place to stack mail or organize artwork.

Dinner followed suit with dishes whose names carried real lineage. Mini brie bites opened the meal, a nod to Brie’s coronation as the “Queen of Cheeses” in 1815 at the Congress of Vienna. Beef Wellington anchored the plate, traditionally associated with Arthur Wellesley, the 1st Duke of Wellington, whose 19th-century legacy helped elevate a simple beef roast into something fit for nobility. Duchess potatoes—piped, golden, and deliberately refined—lived up to their aristocratic title, while Prince of Peas offered a classic green counterpoint that rounded out the court.

Dessert doubled down on the theme. Peppermint pretzel wands became edible scepters, and Rumple Minze truffles—dark chocolate finished with flecks of gold—felt equal parts indulgent and ceremonial. Rumple Minze itself carries a distinctly European pedigree. Peppermint schnapps trace their roots to alpine regions of Germany, where mint spirits were prized as winter digestifs—meant to warm the body while sharpening the senses. Rumple Minze, bottled at a formidable 100 proof, became famous precisely because it refuses subtlety: intensely cold, aggressively minty, and impossible to ignore. And yet, somehow, still capable of adding warmth to the evening.

That warmth mattered, because A Christmas Prince is nothing if not cozy. When Netflix released the original film in 2017, it quickly became a cultural fixture—not because of its quality, but because of its comfort. A fictional European kingdom, a brooding prince, and an American outsider hit every familiar note. Netflix later revealed that one devoted viewer watched A Christmas Prince 18 days in a row during the holiday season—a statistic that instantly elevated the movie to modern Christmas lore. It helped usher in the era of royal holiday rom-coms and proved that predictability can be a feature, not a flaw.

We had already seen the original, but staying true to the theme meant continuing the saga. So we queued up A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding. By any reasonable standard, it’s an objectively worse movie—thinner plot, higher absurdity, lower stakes—but in the middle of December, that was exactly the point. It asked nothing of us. It was cinematic background warmth, designed to be half-watched while sipping something cold and laughing at overripe accents and inevitable montages.

The contrast became the magic of the night. Rumple Minze delivered its signature chill with every sip, while the movie wrapped the room in predictable, flickering comfort. The crowns stayed on. The crests stayed visible. The cherry cordials disappeared one by one. What could have been kitschy instead felt intentional—a playful homage to royalty, ritual, and the way Christmas invites us to elevate even the silliest things with a little ceremony.

In the end, the rhyme held. A Christmas Prince brought the warmth; Rumple Minze brought the cold. Together, they ruled the evening—proof that sometimes the best Christmas nights don’t come from perfection, but from leaning fully into the theme and wearing the crown anyway.

Menu

• Queen Anne Cherries

• Mini Brie Bites

• Beef Wellington Bites

• Duchess Potatoes

• Prince of Peas

• Peppermint Pretzel Wands

• Chocolate Rumple Truffles

• Rumple Minze Cocktails

Activities

• Scroll Invitations sealed with Cherry Cordials

• Royal Gold Scavenger Hunt

• Design the Sommerfeld Royal Crest

• RumpleMinze & Chocolate Tasting Flight

• A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding