By Joan Phelps Christmas memories are filled with Ghosts of Christmas Past. Dickens's Scrooge "was conscious of a thousand odors floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts and hopes and joys and cares long, long forgotten."
More than any other celebration, Christmas brings forth memories of the customs and traditions our families observed each year. Aside from the marvelous sights and joyful sounds of the season, the keenest sense is that of smell, those "1000 odors floating in the air." In those parts of the world where Christmas is celebrated, it is all about the feast. In my family, our traditions were mostly connected to our English heritage. Our Christmas dinner culminated with the arrival of the flaming plum pudding. The recipe for this confection had been handed down for generations with its origins in the 17th century Sheffield, England.
The original plum pudding was first described in 1658 as a "compound of scraped biscuits of flour, suit and currants made into a paste, wrapped in cloth and boiled in a pot." My family's recipe contains raisins, currents, suet, eggs, sugar, flour and spices, is wrapped in a cloth and steamed in a pudding mold. The mold itself is a family heirloom.
Today's Christmas feast in England is rife with tradition, usually commencing with an oyster stew and proceeding to a plump roasted goose. Even Dickens's Cratchit family "gathered round to enjoy goose with gravy and sage and onions." Plum pudding remains the crowning touch. The Royal family each year distributes 1400 puddings to the people associated with the household of Buckingham Palace and other royal residences.
In France, Le Reveillon is celebrated after midnight mass on Christmas Eve. The meal usually includes oysters, foie gras with truffles, turkey with chestnuts and champagne. The grande finale is the buche de Noel, the Christmas log, a spongy cylinder filled with buttercream made with chocolate and rum, iced with a chocolate frosting scored to resemble the furrows of bark and meringue mushrooms to add a woodland touch.
In Provence, the meal traditionally ends with 13 desserts, the symbols of Christmas. The custom traces to the 18th century and represents Christ and the Apostles. The desserts are actually an assortment of fruits and nuts that include dates, figs, mandarin oranges, almonds and walnuts.
In Germany, the noble feast might include venison, pheasant, wild duck or goose and will always end with an apple dish. German kitches will be redolent with spices as the traditional gingerbread lebkuchen and pfefferneuse emerge from the oven. With a hint of German blood in my veins from a great-great grandmother, I make pfefferneuse each year as part of my own Christmas tradition.
All this sustenance, of course, requires a good bit of wassailing to add to the cheer. Wassail is a Saxon word that is a wish for good health. It has evolved to describe the drink and its bowl, originally a loving cup, or as my Webster's defines it, a drinking song or an excuse to carouse! Whether it was called gluggwein, grog or punch, wassail was a form of mulled wine to which spices such and nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves were added.
My husband's family has traditionally held a Christmas Day open house, serving marvelously decadent eggnog. The recipe contains eggs, cream, milk, run and Canadian Club rye whiskey. It was stirred up in the largest bowl available with great ceremony a day or two before Christmas. It was then placed outdoors in the tool shed to mellow, which you safely do in the cold New York air. I recall one Christmas when we lived in the Philippines. Keeping up the family tradition, we made our eggnog, substituting melted vanilla ice cream for the cream and stored it in the refrigerator. On Christmas Day, we ladled it up for friends in 92 degree heat on our outdoor terrace, while carols filled the air.
As we celebrate Christmas Present, we share in the goodwill and hope for Those Yet to Come with many others in this world. This year, I'll raise a toast to all, "ves heill," be thou well. |
