A French Christmas
When I spent my first Christmas in France several years ago, I found myself looking at an empty plate for hours. In a country known for its cuisine. What is wrong with this picture? I thought to myself as my stomach growled. By now, at my aunt’s house back in Florida, I would have wolfed down the traditional Italian-American Christmas eve fish dinner hours ago and I would be tucked into bed, prepping my appetite for Mom’s ham dinner the next day.
But there I was, watching my soon-to-be family savoring buttery escargot while I dreamed of the turkey that ended up arriving on the table at about midnight. And where were the Christmas cookies? I mean the pecan puffs, the Italian wedding cookies and spritz cookies that Mom, Grandma and I would serve as Christmas dessert and as snacks for visitors in the days following the holiday.
As I considered this meal that seemed so foreign to me, I realized how without my own traditions, the holiday just didn’t seem like the holiday. In this order, out of the kitchen came: foie gras, smoked salmon, escargot, turkey with stuffing and chestnuts, a massive cheese platter and a rich cake — the yule log — for dessert. Not only was the meal not part of my family tradition, but most of it didn’t even appeal to me.
So what is an American girl to do?
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“We’re making new traditions,” a member of our Christmas day crowd said this year as he dropped a scoop of Stilton blue cheese on his stuffing with a flourish.
And he was right.
We can make new ones, blending aspects of both cultures, mixing the old and the new, and expanding our families to include friends who have become important parts of our lives.
We can serve foie gras as well as a fish appetizer that reminds me of days back home. We can plan on ham as our main course, and I can bake Christmas cookies with my daughter and serve them to our French guests.
Today, I actually find familiarity in the French Christmas routine. I eagerly check out the Yule log flavors at the local bakeries and stop to admire the chocolates in shop windows without finding it strange to eat so much of it at this time of year. And it now feels quite normal that this holiday in France revolves around many hours at the table.
But I’ll never get used to the foie gras.
Adria J. Cimino is the author of two soon-to-be released novels and is co-founder of indie publishing house Velvet Morning Press. She spent more than a decade as a journalist at news organizations including The AP and Bloomberg News. Adria writes about her real-life adventures on her blog Adria in Paris.
