The Traditions Will Continue

As I waited for Omar at Cobble Hill Variety Mailing to calculate the shipping costs for all the Court Pastry cookies I was sending to out-of-town relatives and friends last week, he commented that it was nice “to see that the tradition continues.” He was talking about the tradition started by my mom and her twin sister, who would mail Court Pastry Christmas cookies to their brother and his family in Virginia each December. The number of people who were gifted those special holiday treats grew over the years and now the task has fallen on me. I told Omar that while the Christmas season is such a beautiful time of year, it is often very bittersweet, filled with memories of those who aren’t with us anymore, those very same people who raised us and gave us all the beautiful traditions we so cherish.

We had to change things up quite a bit last year. The pandemic necessitated pre-Christmas quarantines and separate celebrations, even though we shared the foods we had prepared, eating the same meal in different houses. I was pleasantly surprised that my son helped me make struffoli and that my niece and nephew were able to prepare a traditional Italian-American Christmas Eve on their own for the first time ever. It made me hopeful that our traditions can and will continue with the next generations.

In September, we lost our beloved Uncle Louis who was such a part of our everyday lives and Christmas Eve feast. He wasn’t just the life of the party but, together with his wife, our Aunt Debbie, he was the party, period. I’ll never forget him biting into a crisp baccala fritter and exclaiming, “Other than the birth of Baby Jesus, this is what Christmas means to me.” I have been wondering how I am going to make baccala this year, knowing he won’t be there to eat any of it. But I know I will; traditions must continue. They will continue for our kids and for ourselves, and in honor of those who passed them down to us.

And so I sent the cookies. We put the tree up early this year because we needed some cheering up. I strung the lights outside with more than usual the amount of cursing since my heavy duty outdoor extension cord mysteriously went missing; lighting problems are part of my Christmas tradition. I wrote out all my cards—and, miracle of miracles, my hardworking husband helped me seal the envelopes for the first time in 32 years of marriage.

We will make struffoli from my mom’s recipe, my sister Lisa’s recipe and my Uncle Louis’ recipe. My sister will make all her cookies and I will make mine. I will buy, soak, and fry the baccala. We will be pick up the antipasto from Caputo’s Fine Foods and the bread from Caputo’s Bread Store. My husband will load up the car and we’ll bring our Carroll Gardens Christmas Eve to my sister’s home in Manalapan.

My brother will make my mom’s magnificent seafood salad and my sister will take care of the clam sauce, the kids will bread the shrimp and the scallops and stuff the clams. My brother-in-law will man the deep fryer in the garage. My Aunt Debbie will make a delicious vegetable side dish with a lot of garlic and olive oil, just like her hubby always made.

When we sit down to eat, someone will recite my dad’s prayer that he wrote on a tally sheet from the pier where he worked as a longshoreman decades ago. We will raise our glasses, some with wine—some with wine and coke—to toast everyone who ever graced our Christmas Eve table. I’m sure more than a few tears will be shed but we’ll dry our eyes and carry on with the Feast of the Seven Fishes, which is the most important meal of the year for our family.

We’ll stuff ourselves, gossip and share stories about growing up, our grandparents, our extended family, and our neighborhood. We’ll listen to Jimmy Roselli, Lou Monte, A Charlie Brown Christmas, and maybe even a little Earth, Wind & Fire. Hopefully, my sister will come up with a zany game so we can laugh extra hard, which is what I find myself doing after being extra sad. We’ll exchange presents and eat some more… nuts, finocchio, figs, torrone, lots of cookies and struffoli, and hopefully my brother’s fiancée will bring her yummy mince tarts. We’ll have espresso with sambuca and maybe a shot of limoncello or amaretto. And when it’s time to say goodnight, we’ll hug one another long and tight.

On the way home, I’ll look for the illuminated steeple at Sacred Hearts-St. Stephen’s Church and the next morning, my family and I will attend Christmas Day Mass there. I’ll be sure to light a candle and say a special prayer in front of the Holy Family in the Nativity, praying and thanking God for my family. I’ll remember those we miss so much, but I think the sadness may be lessened knowing how joyful they will be that they are still held dear and that their traditions continue. Merry Christmas, Buon Natale to you and yours!