Christmas; a report

I've been quiet the last few days, but here's what we've been up to.

Christmas dinner was a fun affair. We held it a few days early, because of people's work schedules; one is a nurse, who always works Christmas Eve or Day; another manages a store that opens 365 days a year. But meeting early only increases the fun, since those who have other family can take in two or even three family gatherings.

So this year, about thirty of us gathered in my daughter's new home, in the back half of their antique church/wedding chapel (so it was a house-warming, too); all ages, from a babe in arms to several great-grandparents; old friends and new in-laws. The usual mix-ups: the last-minute notice that, after all, the stove would not be delivered on time, so several of us brought hot-plates; the waiting for late-comers, while we early birds demolished the appetizers and sampled home-made booze; the non-functional lock on the new bathroom door: it all contributed to the feeling of family pulling together. What it's all about, isn't it?

Tree in my daughter's formal living room, made informal by misplaced chairs and stacks of gifts.

But it had its edge of melancholy, too. Laurie was not with me this time. The long drive to Chilliwack, coupled with a late night, was too much for him, because of his injured back, still not completely healed. Two of my sons are in Mexico, this year; we missed them and the kids. Others have health issues. Time goes on, and it's not always kind.

Oh, but the unalloyed joy of the little ones! The excitement of a toddler stumbling after her running older cousins! The serious conversation with said toddler beside a Christmas tree about balls and trees with little boys crawling underneath! The delight of plates and plates and plates of crackers and cheese and gingerbread! With no-one supervising little hands except tolerant grandparents! The mounds of rattling, torn Christmas wrapping for an 8-month old girl to rustle!

Back to earth. Yes, it was a good Christmas.

Laurie made me a card, with his own poem, and gave me, among other things, an antique Japanese ceramic cat.

She already has her favourite spot picked out, on an antique cheese box and reproduction rag rugs.

The 24th and 25th, we spent quietly at home. It was probably unwise to get a flu shot almost on the spur of the moment on Christmas Eve, but then we shouldn't have put it off so long, either. Usually, the shot has no noticeable effect, but this year, both of us were wiped out by it. I couldn't stay awake through a whole conversation all day Christmas. It was almost as if I'd overdosed on trytophan; I hadn't. I ate leftover chicken soup, because I wasn't up to cooking.

But the family and friends Christmas celebrations went on, and I have been following them on Facebook. Every hour or so, there's a new batch of photos and comments, mostly of the younger set. I don't know how we ever got along without this marvellous web before!

And now we've got the preparations for New Years Day, and after that, Dia de los Reyes, January 6th, to think about. The Twelve Days of Christmas have barely started.

I'm thinking about making pozole*, since for Christmas dinner, we did more or less traditional Canadian. (I made my grandmother's sweet yams, with brown sugar, butter, and mini-marshmallows. Yum!)

*Recipe #28 in this list. Or maybe, if I'm energetic enough, I'll make green chile tamales. (Recipe #32.)

I hope all your Christmasses were as good!

Ensalada de Noche Buena

One of our neighbours was sorting out Christmas lights today. It's a bit early; I'm barely considering Hallowe'en costumes.

But I did start early with my addition to Sunday's Thanksgiving (Canadian) supper. I made Ensalada de Noche Buena, a traditional Mexican Christmas Eve dish. Why wait on the calendar when the makings were shouting at me in Safeway?

Ensalada de Noche Buena is a festive dish, in vivid Christmas colours, starting with the deep, rich red of sliced beets. The name can be translated, "Salad of the Good Night", where the "Good Night" is Christmas Eve; the salad is traditionally served at a midnight supper.

Beets, jicama, oranges, apple, pomegranate.

Here's the recipe, as I made it for 19 adults and 10 children. Cut in half for a dozen, divide approximately by 4 for a family.

Ingredients:

• Beets. I used about 4 cups of sliced, cooked beets.
• Oranges. I used 4 medium mandarin oranges; peeled "normal" orange slices are good, too.
• Jicama. This is a Mexican root vegetable, usually eaten raw, sliced, and sprinkled with lemon juice and chili powder. One large jicama was more than enough.
• Green apple. I used one, but two or three would be better.
• Pomegranate. One is plenty.
• Orange juice, 1 cup.
• 1 tsp. sugar.
• 1 cup sour cream, for the dressing. (Optional.)
• Unsalted roasted peanuts for a garnish.

Jicama (pronounced hee-cah-mah.) Photo from El Pilar.

Pomegranate. Image from Wikipedia.

Method:

Prep: can be done the day before.

• Top the beets, trim the roots, wash, and boil in water to cover until cooked through. Drain and cool. Keep at least a cup of the juice.
• Peel the jicama, using a sharp knife. The outer skin has a fiber coating underneath; you'll want to remove all of that. A potato peeler or scraper won't do the trick. Place the jicama in water, as you would a potato. A bit of lemon juice in the water helps to keep the flesh white.
• Without taking the jicama out of the water for long, cut it in quarters, then in cubes about half an inch on the side, or in shoestring strips. Return to water a.s.a. p. Refrigerate. (For transport to the party, I put it in a large plastic bag and added a good squirt of lemon juice.)
• Break apart the pomegranate, and pop out all the juicy kernels. Remove any white skin. Put the kernels aside in a covered bowl or a zipper plastic bag, and refrigerate.
• When the beets are cool, peel away the cooked skin. It should just push off with your thumbs, but use a knife if necessary. Slice the beets across the grain. Refrigerate.

Dressing:

• Mix the sour cream with some of the reserved beet juice, just enough to give it a good colour. Add a few tablespoons of orange juice, stirring as you go, until it's just thin enough to drizzle. Add the sugar, stir, and refrigerate.

Shortly before the meal is served:

• In a big bowl, I placed the beets first, then the peeled sections of mandarin oranges.
• I added wedges of green apple, then followed that with a bit of orange juice to keep the apple from browning.
• Next, the jicama cubes. These will be white, but will quickly pick up colour from the beets. If you want them still white on the table, add them last.
•  Add the remainder of the orange juice, and mix the whole thing gently.
• Top the salad with the pomegranate seeds and the peanuts. (One of our family members is allergic to peanuts, so I put them on the side in a bowl.
• Either drizzle the dressing over all, or serve it on the side.

Alternatives:

• Another way to serve this is to lay the individual ingredients out on a platter, over shredded lettuce or butter lettuce leaves. Dip the apple and jicama in orange juice first, and then make interesting patterns of red, orange, white and green. Drizzle with sweetened orange juice, sprinkle the pomegranates and peanuts on top, and add a dollop of pink dressing.
• You can add other fruits, such as banana slices dipped in orange juice, round slices of scrubbed oranges, peel and all, chunks of pineapple, or peeled grapefruit sections. I thought of adding slices of kiwi fruit, for the green colour. Use your imagination!

This is great with turkey, as an alternative to cranberry sauce. And even the little kids ate it.

Second day of Christmas, but no turtledoves

December 26, 1:45 AM, our West Coast time. Boxing Day. My daughter just posted a video of family moments since Christmas, last year. My kitchen is clean again, the laundry done, the new goodies are finding their places. Christmas is over, except for the Boxing Day sales, which I have learned to skip. And Dia de los Reyes, the "real" Mexican Christmas, but that's two weeks from now, on Twelfth Night.

I hope you, all my wonderful family, fellow bloggers, old and new friends, everyone, have had as happy a Yule-tide as we have.

It was a wonderful end to the year; most of the family crowded into three rooms, babies, pre-schoolers with important things to discuss (like feeding the ducks), teenagers ("Oh, you've gotten so big!" And the teen addressed this way, for the umpteenth time, politely refrains from rolling his eyes.), out-of-towners, new additions, adults displaying their culinary skills, grandpa Mark making goo-goo noises at the latest infant, someone playing the guitar in the hallway (the only space with elbow room), wrapping paper, baby clothes (So cute!), books and chocolates and flashing cameras ...

The turkey worked out ok, the salad had pomegranate seeds and avocado chunks mixed in; yum! The surprise dish was a Mexican dish, potatoes in a tomato and serrano chile sauce, northern cuisine, really good.

Even the critters participated. Laurie noticed how they were running around excitedly, looking out at the goings-on. The tank is in a quiet corner, but people kept coming in to look inside and point out hermits and crabs to the little ones. I had made out a list of easy-to-find inhabitants:

11 hermit crabs, 3 big shore crabs, 1 small crab, 1 tiny, tiny crab. 3 coonstripe shrimp, 3 trophon snails, several small grey snails (Nassas), 1 green amphipod, barnacles, anemones, limpets, and a tiny black periwinkle snail.

I doubt that anyone was able to do the count, though; not the way the critters were dashing about. They must be much more aware of their surroundings than I thought.

Holly at dusk, White Rock

... and a happy New Year!

(Tomorrow, I'll explain the barnacle photo.)

Christmas menu, 2010

Never the same twice; that's Christmas in my family. This year, everyone is gathering on Christmas Eve in my tiny apartment; we'll be packed in wall to wall, using every available flat surface as dining tables, and everything that can remotely be considered seating pressed into service. The house is cleaned, the decorations are up but don't intrude on the space, dishes sorted, breakables removed from the reach of tiny hands, menu planned and shopping done. The turkey is in the freezer, the hall closet emptied, waiting for jackets ... I think I'm ready.

The meal will start out as a traditional Canadian Christmas dinner; roast turkey, backed potatoes in their jackets,  homemade cranberry sauce, several veggies, a salad. But then we go off the rails. There will be cornbread and Mexican hot sauce. My son is bringing something unnamed, probably a Punjabi dish. For dessert, there's Mexican flan and assorted cheeses. And we'll end with Café de olla, Mexican coffee.

Here's the recipe, as we make it:

In a clay pot*, bring water to a boil, one cup per person. Add one cinnamon stick per cup of water, and simmer for a few minutes to bring out the flavour. If you have piloncillo, the traditional Mexican sugar, add it at this time, and simmer until it disolves. If not, substitute brown sugar or unrefined sugar; you may add this now or later, to taste.

While this simmers, grind well-roasted dark coffee beans, to a medium grind, and measure out one tablespoon of the ground coffee per person into a bowl.

Depending on how long you have simmered the sugar and cinnamon, you may need to top up the water to the original level. Bring to a boil again, and remove from heat. IMMEDIATELY add the coffee, all at once. Stir it down if it foams, and cover it with a lid for about 5 minutes.

Add sugar to taste, and serve from the clay pot with a ladle, pouring it through a fine strainer into clay mugs, if you have them.

Possible additions; semi-sweet baker's chocolate, to taste, simmered with the cinnamon. Or a few cloves, just enough to give a hint of spiciness.

*The coffee can be prepared in a glass saucepan, but it will not have the earthy flavour of coffee made in an olla.