As long as I can remember Christmas Eve has always been a big part in our family. Every year, we go to my aunt's and uncle's house in San Francisco, hold the 30+ of us that we are in one long table in the garage and celebrate Christmas together as one big family until 2 or 3 in the morning. This tradition has been held in my family since my mother was a child, and as stated previously my mother is 51 years old, so just imagine that. This tradition has been in our family for half of a century, and will continue to be a tradition for 51 more years.
It usually starts like this (in the point of view from my family):
Wake up at around 9:30AM-10AM
My mother usually wakes me and/or my sister up wishing us a Merry Christmas (even though its not Christmas day) and we sit down at the kitchen table and have ourselves breakfast. Once breakfast is done we figure out who takes a shower first and how long, as there are 3 girls in my family and one boy (the boy being my father). As usual, my sister, my mother and I get ready first, as science states that women get ready longer than men. My father sits and waits for us to get finish as sciences states that men get ready shorter than women.
Once showered, cleaned, hair blow dried (a thing that my sister and I dislike, but have to as our hair takes forever to dry and when air-dried looks like a frizz ball), plucked, shaved, hair curled then hair straightened because hair curled didn't turn out the way we wanted to, then hair product applied to our hair, then make up put on, then outfits put on, then jewelry put on, then my father gets ready, then presents get put into a bag next to the front door, desserts get wrapped tightly with 20 pieces taped on securely, coats and pajamas get set on the couch arm, then cameras checked for fully charged batteries, then 20 minute photo shoot of me and my sister next to the Christmas tree, then on the living room chair with my father, then with my mother near the fire place, then once again me and my sister near the Christmas tree and then grab all the stuff on the couch and near the front door and out we go at 4pm to San Francisco.
It's quite a process and it gets done every year.
Once in the car, we either have a specific playlist filled with Christmas music or whatever is liked on my iPod (mostly Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Adele, U2, Michael Bublé, The Canadian Tenors, and any other alternative band that we can all agree on.)
Once we arrive at my aunt's house at around 5:30, 6 or 6:30 depending on traffic, we are welcomed in with big Spanish hellos and lots of Merry Christmas kisses.
My aunt, my uncle, their daughter and my grandmother are all gathered in the kitchen preparing for Christmas dinner. Helping bring down mini-appetizers to the garage and taking more pictures of decorations of the table, more of my cousins come in through the door and we welcome them with more Spanish hellos and Merry Christmas kisses.
Cousins start to swarm in family by family bringing presents, appetizers, desserts and warm hugs.
The garage begins to fill with all the relatives and Spanglish voices start to fill the air. My sister, my cousins and I (but mostly I) hang around the appetizer table filling our stomachs with delicious chips and guacamole, patê, chips, brie cheese dip, and more. We fill our stomachs disregarding the fact that we are eating too much before dinner, a mistake we make every year.
When the conversations are hitting their peak my aunt will come down and announce that dinner is ready and everyone sits in their seats.
At the head sits my aunt and next to her is her husband, my uncle. A seat that is honored to both the chefs. Next to them is all my aunts and uncles that are grandparents, then comes the adults that are 30plus years old. Then comes my sister, my cousins and I near the end of the table with all the little cousins. The long table has an imaginary line, on the far right is all the adults and "grown-ups" and on the left are the "kids". Despite most of the "kids" being in their 20s, if we are not married nor have kids, we have not graduated. (And no cats, do not count as kids....)
Once everyone is settled in their seats, my aunt stands up makes a thank you speech, stating how grateful she is that she is still able to hold Christmas Eve this year despite her age and every year at this speech we clap for her in happiness that she is still able to do this successfully despite her age.
Then the food comes.
These raviolis are a big deal.
When you're little and going through the phase of being super picky with your food and refusing to eat, driving your parents crazy trying to get you to eat, if, on this day, you eat a plateful or 2 of raviolis and that's it, you're good. It doesn't matter if you don't eat anything else, you eat a good amount of these raviolis and your parents are happy.
Even to this day, when the youngest child ask his/her mom/dad if they can go and play with in the playroom, you can her the parent say:
"Did you eat your raviolis?"
I can remember back when I was 5 years old and our family was a little smaller than now, my sister, my cousin and I would be placed in the living room on a small plastic table that was too big for our legs, settled in front of the TV, playing whatever children's movie was in that year and eating nothing but raviolis. My Christmas Eve was surrounded by those raviolis.
Now you're probably thinking..."What are in these wonderful, magical raviolis that makes even the pickiest little eater eat them?
The secret is in the sauce. Now I won't say too much about it because I don't want you to steal it and start making my aunt's raviolis all around the world, crediting them as your own.
These are my aunt's raviolis and the only time I eat them is on Christmas Eve, don't you dare spoil them for me or I will hunt you down with my spatula. I 'm serious. Don't mess with these raviolis.
Anyway, the sauce is what brings the raviolis together, the moment you take a bite of one ravioli, it melts. Like a good melt. The sauce, all warm, meaty and tomato-y, the ravioli so soft and cooked to perfection. You're so into the deliciousness of the ravioli that all of a sudden you look down and the 10 pieces of ravioli that were once fresh on your plate are all gone. You lower your head in disappointment for a little bit, drink some red wine to heal the pain and then yell at your aunt who sits 2 seats away from you for more.
Once these said raviolis are finished we begin with the main course.
If you come into my family and say that you are vegetarian and don't eat no meat, you will get a weird look from them, followed by a long pause and then a bold statement of " It's ok, we have lamb."
We have lamb. We always have lamb.
Lamb withe the side dish of jello and vegetables, we fill our stomachs until we can't even open our mouths. A heads start to hang low to the table, not even our arms and hands can hold our heavy heads. We take a minor break for everyone to collect everything and clean up, and walk around, burning off all the food, getting ready for the little ones to open presents.
Since there are so many little cousins in the family, instead of buying presents for each one, we do a Secret Santa between the little ones.
From a couple months old to 17 years old, the cousins pick out a name on Thanksgiving, have 2 weeks to find a gift under $20 and present it on Christmas Eve.
Being sneaky and nosy cousins, my sister, my cousin and I will ask each cousin who they have before opening presents and try to figure out the full circle of Secret Santa.
Once the presents are unwrapped and everyone has figured out who had who, we prepare for the adult White Elephant. (And when I say adult I mean that only the adults-18 and over- participate, this is not a game where inappropriate things are given, unless everyone has had at least 4 glasses of wine in them...then maybe)
Like I said before, anyone 18 and over participates in the White Elephant game.
If you do not know what White Elephant is or don't recognize the name, you might recognize the game.
Each person picks out a gift $20 and under, it can be a normal gift, a crazy gift or a gift gift that has been kept in your basement/garage for God knows when.
Then you gather up all the participants, write down numbers, put it in a hat (or a Basque hat which is a black beret) and the participants choses a number and whoever is #1 begins.
The presents are in the middle. All decorated and not labeled the first contender approaches the stack of presents. Nerves fill the air, everyone is screaming "Pick that one! Pick that one!". The contender seems hesitant, he/she reaches out his/her hand and hoovers over 2-3 gifts, they pick one...
"Oh my god you picked it! You have to open it!"
The contender sits back down nervous/excited/confused. His/her hesitant hands carefully unwraps the present, SURPRISE it's a box filled with water bottles!! (not but seriously that has happened, little did we know that there was a secret compartment with a $20 gift card.
And then rinse, wash and repeat 20xs until there is one present left and when everyone is tired of stealing.
Once the craziness has settled and the wine has died down, the desserts appear from the table and all (and I mean me) devour them.
The rest of the night is settled with warm cups of coffee, playing with the little cousins, games of American and Spanish poker and snuggling into pajamas to make the ride home easier.
At around 1 in the morning we get our coats and presents and start our goodbyes. With goodbye Spanish kisses and one more Merry Christmas we gather our things and head out by 2 in the morning.
From San Francisco to Concord, my sister, my dad and I try to stay awake while my mom drives home, but sometimes with the wine and the dessert sugar crash, we sleep on the way home. Luckily, still in our pajamas (my and my sister) we snuggle in our beds hair still covered in product, make up still semi-on from the attempt to take it off, and we fall asleep, waiting for the Christmas morning to open up presents and relax from the busy night.
Despite all the craziness, and amounts of food that fill our stomachs and tired minds, these Christmas Eve is the highlight of the month of December. Even from far away, I still get excited for Christmas Eve to come, as this year was a little different being thousands of miles away, I could still imagine walking into my aunt's warm house, hearing the Spanglish voices and smelling the raviolis from a couple seats away.
Christmas Eve will always be a unique family tradition for years to come and in 5 more months, I will be able to celebrate it again back at home in the wonderful San Francisco home.
No comments:
Post a Comment