What I cook for Christmas matters a lot to me.
Not because I’m religious, and not because I feel the need to stick to a specific tradition, but because I deeply love the process of cooking. Planning, chopping, tasting, adjusting. It’s how I slow down and pay attention.
This year, my husband and I are spending a few days in Canada visiting his family, where Christmas dinner will be Indian food (one of my favorite cuisines) on Boxing day. So I decided to do my cooking marathon a few days earlier, on December 21st, the winter solstice.
I had my Jewish friends over, who of course don’t celebrate Christmas, and my neighbors Svetlana and Grisha, who are from Ukraine, so technically Orthodox. You see why calling it Christmas didn’t feel right.
My only rule in the kitchen is simple:
I cook only food that I genuinely love eating.
This year, that looked like this:
Something very Italian:
Crostini with butter, anchovies, and capers.
I know anchovies are a deeply divisive food, but honestly, this might be the best thing life has to offer.
Something very traditional in my household:
Crostini with butter and smoked salmon, finished with lemon zest (my personal addition).
Something that every Italian would be horrified to see:
Bruschetta with fresh tomatoes.
I know. Tomatoes in December. I was simply executing a request from Grisha, who absolutely loves bruschetta!
Then there were two dishes by Anna Jones, my personal hero. A mushroom tart and a squash and kale parmigiana. I love her cooking so much. One of my wildest dreams is that one day I’ll organize a tour with and for her: going to this Sicilian farm, cooking together, talking about cookbooks and food. Just putting this dream out there 🙂
And finally, Anna Jones’ carrot cake, with candied oranges that I made myself. Such a fun project. The only Italian ingredient was the mascarpone in the icing, but this is also the cake I made for my son Isaac’s first birthday, back when we were in Italy in November. Everyone was absolutely skeptical. Turmeric and fresh ginger in a cake? Lime zest and mascarpone? I got the eye roll…
And yet, they all loved it. Someone said it felt unconventional, like something you’d buy at a bougie vegetarian bookstore in Florence (BRAC, to be specific). I’ll take that as a compliment.
Looking at this table, I realize how little it followed the rules, and how much it followed pleasure. I’m starting to think that’s what keeps traditions alive.
If you’ve ever made a tradition your own, I’d love to hear about it.
Happy holidays,