My dad’s side of the family is extremely Italian; loud, talking with our hands, obsessed with food, you get the gist. I only get to see this side of the family on Christmas day, and occasionally in the summer, so spending time with them is my absolute favorite part of the holiday. Unfortunately, due to Covid-19, we haven’t been able to have our traditional Christmas in three years. However, I am hoping to be with them this coming Christmas. The house we host it in rotates between my two aunts and cousin. I remember growing up and always asking, “Whose house this year Dad?” and looking forward to the warm and homey feeling of each one.
If you are not an Italian yourself, it is truly an experience that I can never quite put into words. First of all, our food is amazing, and all the aunts and uncles put their whole hearts into the cooking. I am not joking when I tell you that on Christmas day we have a four-course meal. It starts with the Italian Wedding soup, which is to die for (and in my opinion the best soup out there). My aunt Nancy makes this, and all the mini meatballs within it, from scratch. It is the perfect starter, with some nice warm Italian bread bought from a local bakery to dip in. Next, we have ham, my dad’s specialty. It is glazed with pineapple, the perfect amount of salty and sweet. Clearly, after this, we need to take a breather, which in my family consists of a lot of back-and-forth storytelling of “the good old days” and family members who are no longer with us. I wish I could have a book of all the stories I get to hear from my dad and his siblings. After we rest our stomachs for a bit, out comes the manicotti. This is a cheesy, warm, pasta dish that looks similar to lasagna. But if you dare cut it up like lasagna, my aunt Linda will have your head. OK, I won’t go that far, but one year my brother did get scolded for making this mistake. Last on the list is dessert, my grandma’s recipe of muzetti, a delicious Italian cookie topped with frosting and sprinkles. If you want a slice of this, you need to run in order to beat my younger, ravenous cousins.
Another thing about Italian families is that we are loud, and I mean LOUD. If you want to get even two words in you have to speak up, there is no mumbling in my family. I learned that from years of getting cut off mid-sentence by my brothers or dad, and even cousins. We have three different dinner tables set up at Christmas, with stories and laughter at each one. Aunts yelling across the table to their husbands, siblings telling each other that their version of the story is incorrect, and the sound of all our combined laughter. I really can’t imagine a livelier family than my own, and whenever I’m surrounded by them I feel so lucky to experience just that little bit of our culture and tradition. These are memories that I know I will hold forever. The feeling of excitement when my dad would pick me up from my mom’s house, ready to drive to Aunt Nancy’s. The smell of all the foods being warmed in the kitchen. The sound of Uncle Mike’s scratchy voice as he tells us all a story that will make us laugh. Thinking about my own Christmas experience and tradition, it makes me happy to think about how different Christmas looks for everyone. Each family has their own special way of celebrating this day, with their own foods, stories, and people.