Mar 15 2008
Holiday Dinners
Looks like I’m going to be “doing Easter”, as we say. I have never cooked a turkey before, so it looks like ham wil be the main course. Unless I find myself with enough time to make lasagna - even though that’s breaking custom. Lasagna, as everyone knows, is the traditional Christmas Eve dinner.
Oh, you didn’t know that?
It’s funny how things will become customary very quickly. Sometimes the traditions have little to do with the point. What the heck is up with those “Easter” bunnies? Why do “spring cleaning” when coal-caused grime is no longer an issue? When was the last time anyone kicked a football made from pigskin?
But I digress…
Lasagna began its ascent to Christmas Eve glory because my mother wanted something she could cook ahead of time and set aside, rather than adding to the volume of cooking - and stress - of Christmas Day. Still, there is an elegance and ceremony to it. Everyone dresses for church and the table is neatly laid with the best linen, “good” dishes, silverware, and candles. Wine is served (St. Julian’s winery in Paw Paw, Mich. is a favorite source). The lasagna travels from oven to table in a casserole basket woven of gold-toned wire. Afterwards we go to Mass and - before or after - we open our presents.
My father made pancakes on Christmas Day - the simple yet festive breakfast of the lumberjack camps. Although he had moved out of the U.P. (the Upper Peninsula of Michigan), no doubt his Yooper blood gave him the power to make the special blueberry pancakes. Mmmm…
My family doesn’t pig out on Shrove Tuesday, not being of Polish descent and therefore bound to consume paczkis (POONCH-keys), otherwise known as the Donuts of Doom. Imagine a jelly-filled donut with enough lard to choke an ox. In the Detroit Metro area, it’s a cross-cultural event. Self-deluded locals call it “Paczki Day” because they can’t bring themselves to call it “FAT Tuesday”. (And nutritionists wonder why Detroit is one of the fattest cities in the nation - it’s all the paczkis!)
To my family, the end of Lent is marked with a feast. It’s the blow-out. The appetizers range from cheese to pickles. Beer and pop (aka soda pop) are the beverages of choice. The dinner, served at 2 o’clock, is arranged on a circuit through the kitchen and into the hallway. First are the meats, usually a ham, Swedish meatballs, and sometimes a beef dish. Then comes the salads: greens, mixed bean, coleslaw, and potato. There’s zucchini bread (courgette bread to my UK friends), fluffy rolls dusted with flour, real butter…. The desserts can be anything from dirt pie to bunnycake - and frequently both.
Supper comes later, when bread is brought out and everyone makes sandwiches of their choice. I especially miss Grandma O’Rourke’s homemade bread, which has seldom been matched by any baker.
