'Tis the Season... to EAT!

So, Christmas in my family is a big to-do. Not that we're hugely religious about it. No midnight mass, no nativity scene on the mantel (Or as I used to call them, to my mom's amusement, "Jesus Things.") Christmas Eve is the big night. We all gather and we each have our food that has to be there. Uncle Kelly makes Hum Bow (Asian dumplings), Grandmother (or GM) makes chicken livers wrapped in bacon (and may, or may not set them on fire in the oven), GM also makes champagne punch, I make hot artichoke dip, Brenda brings shrimp, Grandfather (or GF) makes those little cocktail wenies, Debbie brings fluff salad (which involves cottage cheese and probably Jello), and if you're lucky Auntie Vind makes egg nog. (No, you can't leave the rum out!)

We sit around my grandparent's living room and eat until we think we'll all pop. Jennie, my best friend, usually stops by. She'd rather come to our party than her own family's. We exchange our psycho presents. (Last year, I gave her a tank top that said "Heathen." And this was for CHRISTMAS. The year before, I gave her a shirt that said CORONER from the L.A. County Coroner's Office. They have a kick-ass gift shop on their website, by the way.) Sometimes, GM and Debbie can con Wendy, Amanda, and me into singing Still, Still, Still for everyone. It usually makes Amanda cry, though, so it doesn't happen every year.

Occasionally, someone sets something on fire. Now, my family has this amazing propensity for combustion. One year, GM almost set the chicken livers on fire and filled the kitchen with smoke. Another year, Kelly leaned over a candle on the coffee table and set the arm of his sweater on fire. He smacked at it and it went out. The only thing that let you know something untoward had happened, was a slight toasty smell about his persona. We aren't fazed at all by open flames. There was a summer when GF was grilling salmon on the BBQ and something caught fire. Before we knew it, there were two foot flames shooting out of the grill. Smoke was filling the house. Our friend Susan was asking if we should be calling the fire department and the rest of us are just watching and saying, "No, it'll be OK." There was a badminton set behind the BBQ that was sent to the gameroom in the sky that day. There were also some BIG panes of glass, waiting to go into the windows on the patio. The sound of them shattering was like cannon fire and there was glass EVERYWHERE! The salmon was a little charred, but very tasty.

But, back to Christmas. No presents are opened on Christmas Eve, although sometimes I'll get a new dress for the party. It used to be that the whole family would spend the night. And Christmas morning would be an orgy of present giving. And GF would burn all the wrapping paper in the fireplace. Now, we do the present giving in waves. As people show up, they get their loot. After the presents are done, we all sit around playing our new games, watching our new movies, and being sloths. My favorite Christmas Day was spent watching it snow and snow and snow, sitting inside by the fire, watching episode after episode of The West Wing. And eating leftovers, of course. Christmas morning, we always have breakfast casserole (egg, cheese, and sausage goodness). Mum buys pastries. And we having Morning Glories. That's what they are in Utah. Everywhere else, they're Mimosas. For Christmas dinner, GM makes ham and cheesy potatoes (aka funeral potatoes, because they're at EVERY Utah funeral).

It's amazing how set in our ways we are, since most of us aren't Christian. It's more about the food and people we love. I look forward to it every year. I'm counting the days. To quote the song, "Although, it's been said many times, many ways, Merry Christmas to you."

Next week, we'll talk about the other end of the spectrum and Solstice...