Holiday Goodies

In many European cultures, it's tradition to eat seafood on Christmas Eve. My family's Hungarian traditions always had us eating some sort of fried fish or stew. Italians particularly hold this tradition to the extreme, eating anywhere from 7 to 13 different types of seafood dishes for dinner. It's called the Feast of the Seven Fishes. The odd numbers have symbolic meaning in both Catholicism and numerology. Seven represents the seven sacraments—and sins. In numerology, seven represents perfection. I find that seafood stews are some of the most hearty and satisfying of all the fish dishes. One seafood stew that I find most special is Cioppino, a true Italian-American invention.

Created by Italian immigrants in San Francisco, Cioppino was first made out of necessity. The Italian fisherman made it for lunch on their boats with whatever catch of that day. Now Cioppino has become so famous that it can be found on restaurant menus throughout San Francisco and beyond. Supposedly the word Cioppino comes from the word ciuppin, which in the Ligurian dialect means "to chop," since the seafood that goes into the stew is typically cut into manageable pieces. But the soup/stew can contain more than just chopped fish. Clams, mussels, and other shellfish make great additions, rounding out the wonderful sea flavor of this tomato-based soup.

My first taste of goat’s cheese was at a tapas restaurant in Chicago many years ago. The soft, creamy cheese with a fairly mild, salty taste was topped with pine nuts. At the time, the flavors were so different from what I was accustomed to eating. During the years since that first introduction, I’ve become quite fond of the full, rich flavor of goat cheese.

One of my favorite ways to serve goat cheese is to spread the room-temperature cheese on a platter and top it with sliced sundried tomatoes in oil, smashed kalamata olives and slivers of fresh basil. I drizzle some of the oil from the jar of sundried tomatoes over the whole platter and serve it with baguette slices. Guests cover the bread with oil-soaked cheese and then top it with the tomatoes, olives and basil. The whole thing can be assembled right before guests arrive. It’s not a concoction I developed myself. Mary Risley, of Tante Marie’s Cooking School in San Francisco served it at the first class I ever took from her.

This holiday season I’ve combined those same ingredients and baked them in tiny little cream cheese tart shells. The rich custard holds all the ingredients together in a flaky cream cheese cup.

As each time zone in the world welcomed the new millennium, twelve people in a little flat in San Francisco celebrated with a unique dining experience.

The New Year’s Eve feast began at 4pm Pacific Time with long-life noodles and caviar tarts, as Sonja, her husband Dave and their guests joined a few billion people who were still partying in Asia and Russia.

Then, every hour on the hour, wherever it was midnight, they served assorted bite-sized cuisine indigenous to countries where the 21st century had just begun. 

Our family will pause during Thanksgiving dinner and each of us will take a moment to mention what we're most thankful for in the past year.  Other than that, I have to confess our holiday is all about food. 

The eating begins the moment I arrive at my sister's house.  I put down my suitcase and head for the kitchen where a loaf of fresh pumpkin bread is waiting.  I'll eat my first slice of many before I even take off my coat.   

We have turkey of course, but pumpkin bread is the official food for the week of our family's Thanksgiving.  I've already done the math – and I'm worried whether the 14 loaves Carla already made will be enough for the 14 people in the family  before fights break out over the crumbs.