The Holidays

I'm already thinking about the menus coming up. We've got my cousin from CA & her family coming for Thanksgiving, & I'm already formulating the perfect feast for that. But an Instant Message conversation that I just had with my nephew in Japan brought me back to holidays with my family when I was a little girl. Even though my parents were both avowed atheists (they had both gone through Catholic grade school), Christmas was a big deal -- food wise. And my father's Italian traditions were duplicated as well as could be expected in our big, new suburban home. After all, this was probably the first generation of his family ever to break the cycle of real poverty and to make it to the middle class, so even if our holidays lacked a religious context, they tried to compensate by going overboard with the food. And it was something incredible to behold!

Christmas Eve (La Vigilia to some Italians) was a non-meat designated day, & by God, even my atheist parents followed it. So all the courses had to be fish-based. My dad would prepare for this the week before by going around from store to store where he knew the freshest fish & seafood could be found, & sometimes I came along for the ride. There was always a "white" pasta course -- spaghetti al'olio -- a simple pasta dish dressed with olive oil & garlic & parsley. And then came the seafood. Baccala -- dried codfish -- which had to be soaked for days, changing the water several times. Then came the octopus & squid. This took a lot of time to clean as they often came frozen in a solid block of ice. I remember helping to strip the membrane-like skin from the squid, pull out a "plastic"-looking piece & cutting them into rings & tentacles. Then there were the shrimp & lobsters. (Funny thing: days after cleaning these, the top layer of skin on my hands would begin to peel off!) Again, labor-intensive, with the vein that runs along the back of the shrimp having to be cut out. There might be some oysters, clams or mussels, depending on what was available at the fish store. And I remember one Christmas where he had bought a box or bag full of snails & put them into the refrigerator, only to discover later that they had somehow gotten out & were climbing all over the interior, to my mother's chagrin. Then came the courses of various types of swimming fish -- whatever looked good & caught my father's eye at the time.

Generally, it was agreed that there had to be at least 7 fish courses among the Italian Catholics (or maybe 9), but my dad didn't feel pressed to observe this. He just wanted to present a bounty to his family & friends on that day. Late in his life I remember that he had discovered a recipe for a new fish stew that was creating a sensation in San Francisco at that time -- Cioppino. It was a bouillabaisse-like creation full of all sorts of seafood, & he was years ahead of anyone around here in finding it.

Now you might think that I was enjoying all these dishes too, but nothing could be farther from the truth. At the time, I complained bitterly that we weren't eating what "normal" people would eat for Christmas, and why couldn't I have a hot dog or something? I wasn't eating that weird stuff! All I would eat was the spaghetti, & maybe a shrimp or two, or a little fish. That was it. Later, when I was 16 & in Spain with my mother, I had some mussels & got deathly ill in a hotel room overnight, & we had to call in a doctor. From that point on, I determined never to eat any sort of mussel, clam or oyster because it seemed that I might have some food allergy to them. As I look back on this now, it's probably more likely that I just had a bad mussel in that stew, & got sick from that. But I'm not really willing to try again at this late date because I really, really hate to be sick to my stomach.

Christmas Day was better, in my eyes. There'd be a flashy pasta dish -- something with tomato "gravy" (as my father always called the sauce) -- maybe lasagna, ravioli of ricotta & spinach, or potato gnocchi. This was served with whatever meats went into the making of the gravy (which was a 2-day affair, by the way), usually pork neckbones, or meatballs, Italian sausage, a piece of beef, bracciole, a chicken, etc. Then the main meat course, which might be a large beef roast, roasted cornish hens or chickens, or something like that. Something flashy. Then came the side dishes, always including a salad dressed as my father always did, with olive oil, red wine vinegar, garlic, salt & a little oregano. These would also include roast potatoes and other vegetable dishes. There would be Italian bread & a gallon of good, basic red wine which was served in small juice glasses rather than in wine glasses (In fact, I remember we used the glasses that small shrimp cocktails came in). My step-grandfather's glass kept getting refilled a lot, as I recall.

In the midst of all of this, my father was officiating over everything, just like a conductor leads an orchestra. Everything had to be perfect, and he was clearly pleased with himself. I was 10 or less, at the time, & thought this would never end. Within 3 years, he was gone. I think back on those times & remember little bits & snatches of the music he'd have on the hi-fi (Mario Lanza or some Christmas music), the Christmas tree upstairs (which he always decorated like a big kid), my presents (the pink mohair sweater & "ghillies" shoes), my cousins & I running around & playing with Barbies. The colorful Christmas candies filled with some sort of jam, the antipasto which included black olives which us kids would "wear" on our fingers, the bubbling, excited feeling I got for this day & how fast it was over! By the end of the day, I melted into my bed like a blob of warm mozzarella. I had had enough partying for a while.

We don't realize just how much our children are recording all that goes on around them on these important event days. How much they retain! It's important to keep that in mind & try to build on those memories by keeping them happy ones (if possible). Today, my children & our immediate family have started to come together each week at least one day of the weekend to cook & eat together, & it's been really nice for everyone. I'm sick, my mom's 83... who knows how much longer any of us really have here together. It just makes sense to get together as a family. It's not always sweetness & light either -- there's been some arguing (mostly my mom & I), but nothing serious. It comforts me to have my kids around me & I hope these family traditions will live on with them & their kids. We made gnocchi last Saturday together. It was nice. But just wait until Christmas. This year: bigger & better!