Cod, Christmas and Celebrations

Posted on by Sarah A. Hoyt

There are things about holidays like Christmas that bring out your memories.  First, because they are family occasions, and second because they are, usually, ritualized family holidays and therefore seem to link in a chain through the years.

Probably my first memory of Christmas if of grandma’s kitchen and the big table out, and the entire family was there, and realizing the entire family was there and feeling very happy about it.  Years later I found my brother’s diary recording the occasion, saying his bratty little sister got up on a chair and said “I just want everyone’s attention for a moment.  I’m very happy the whole family is together.”  (I must have been 2 because my brother was just starting high school.  He records the “loot” which was a pile of historical novels – at the time his favorite.  Which makes one wonder about the heredity of such things too.  Actually for a while it was creepy, because my brother and I often arrived home with a copy of the same book, until we learned to coordinate. I regret to inform that I have no idea what I got for Christmas at two, though it was probably a doll.)

For Christmas eve dinner (which was the big celebration) Portuguese eat bacalhau – dried, salted codfish (my mom called me last week to make sure I remembered to start dipping the codfish.) – and yes, you can get it from Amazon, though you can also get it from a place in Michigan where I normally order from.  Also boiled greens and potatoes.  I think this fits the “eat like the humblest of the poor” since about 100 years ago bacalhau was the cheapest food in Portugal, originating cookbooks like 100 ways with bacalhau.

I’ll leave it to TXRed to explain how in heaven’s name a fish that is mostly caught off the shores of Norway and Canada became the Portuguese equivalent of potatoes in Ireland.  It is known in fact as “faithful friend” because it’s so often found at poor people’s table.

Or was.  The Portuguese fleet got much degraded and codfish is depleted, and it’s actually now very pricy.  Not so when I was little when a plowman’s lunch was likely to be shredded (raw? Other than dried) codfish with salt, pepper and oil.  Or alternately sort of a bacalhau frittata.

We were relatively well off – in a world where the concept of well off was “can pay for doctor’s visits” and “uses store bought soap” – but even at our table bacalhau made its appearance 3 to 5 times a week.  As a remembrance of still poorer times, codfish cakes (normally made from potato and bacalhau, but now made “low carb” from celery root and bacalhau) were the great birthday treat in my dad’s family – and one of those traditions that stuck.

One –? – of the stories I tell my kids every Christmas is of my grandfather Alvarim leaving the table with a drop of olive oil on his chin and trying to get out the door to the tavern, while my grandmother followed with a napkin trying to wipe it.  Somewhat hampered by the fact she was five foot nothing and he was six-one.  (the codfish/potatoes/greens were all eaten with copious olive oil and vinegar.)

I have no idea why I remember that, or if it happened once or multiple times, but I know the interplay struck me as very funny, because it never occurred to grandma to tell him why she was chasing him with a napkin, and he clearly thought she was being nuts for no reason…  She did catch him, short of the door.

So we eat codfish for Christmas eve, something I don’t expect to outlive me, because the boys think it’s very weird.  But it makes my mom happy when I tell her yes, I’ve bought the codfish.  She feels she’s taking care of me, at a distance.

The other thing – and we tried it with the kids, but not since they’ve been about 10 – was that we used to put shoes on the stove for gifts.  This was a problem both when I was little and when the kids were little.  They must inherit from me the defective gene that makes you sleep late on Christmas.  I remember mom shaking me awake when I was little with “honey, I want to cook!”

I’m not sure what it says about me that instead of putting my own shoe up, I always put my dad’s army boot, which was the largest shoe in the house.  I guess if it rained soup, I’d be out there with a BIG bucket.  I had the same issue with waking the boys, but of course Robert wore a size 12 at 12, so no upgrade needed.

At some point we just got tired of shoes and socks, and under the tree, so we fit in with American tradition.

For years, as a mom, my requests for Christmas were “I want a CD.  I want a book.  I want a couple of hours in which to enjoy them both.”

Now it’s more a matter of the work than of the kids and most of the books I’m buying are electronic, so that has changed.

For years too Dan and I gave each other a giant cartoon book – usually the Far Side or Calvin.  Those have moved to online cartoonists…

This year we’re lucky because while we’re giving the kids some stuff they need and a couple of things they want, there really isn’t much I wish for.  I mean, truly.  I’m just happy to be here, with the kids and Dan and that our house is warm when it’s bitter cold outside.  And that we found a way to keep the cats off the problem room.

I’m a little wishful because we can’t be with extended family – but it’s been many years, and my family has learned to be just us, and happy being just us.  To compensate for that lack of a big family, we have a great deal of happiness in being together and we have too our extended family of Huns, who, even from over there, make us feel warm and fuzzy.  (And I loved the get-together before Thanksgiving.)

And now stop reading my ramblings, and go spend time with your families.  Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it – and best wishes for the new year for everyone.  To quote from Starman Jones “It’s an Ill Wind that doesn’t have a turning.”  We’re all due for a turn for the best.

Be not afraid.  The future is ours.

 

 

62 thoughts on “Cod, Christmas and Celebrations”

  1. Merry Christmas!

    I miss a lot of my family’s traditions because, well, when it’s just me and the cats, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. They’re horrible Christmas shoppers.

    I wonder sometimes about the alternate universe where I have a wife and kids, but really, I have no idea where I went wrong.

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      1. I’m glad you added cuddly, because my first thought on cats and organic presents, would make one think of omitting the cats and just having yourself for Christmas.

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  2. Awwww! I’m surprised you didn’t end up in New England. Lots of Portuguese there. You guys have weird customs.

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  6. Merry Christmas to you and the three boys. May you enjoy the day, the season, and the coming year where things will get better.

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  8. Sarah, I married a Brazilian, so some of the traditions are the same. I’m at sea 2/3 of the time at Christmas, so I miss out, but we put candy and little stuff in my kid’s shoes (good thing he’s a deep sleeper), plus a stocking on the mantle, and I always bury a package of bacalao (I guess the Azores Portuguese in Boston spell it differently) in the freezer before I head to sea prior to Christmas… good thing too. I grew up on a fishing vessel, but that stuff reeks! Makes my whole house smell like a bait barrel on a summer day.
    Ah well. Merry Christmas from the high seas!

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  9. I’m new; but, in the short time I’ve been visiting, you and the Hun have been very enlightening. My thanks to you all and a wish that you might enjoy this day.

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  10. A Christmas Story, The Year Santa Was Late.

    This was very many years (too many) ago. It was a Christmas where we (my family & the rest of the Howard Clan) were having Christmas at Grandma Howard’s house. They had me, my sister and our two cousins bedded down in the same room as the Christmas tree sans gifts. At the time, the tradition was that the gifts only appeared under the tree sometime Christmas eve night.

    To backtrack a bit, I was the oldest of the four, with cousin Bev a year younger, my sister Ruth a year younger than Bev, and cousin Lou a year younger than Ruth. Well, the four of us got talking until very late and when we woke up Christmas morning there were no gifts under the tree.

    The adults got us out of that room and sure enough after we had breakfast the gifts were there under the tree. [Very Big Grin]

    By the way, I don’t know about the others but I believe that was the year that I began to realize the “truth” about Santa. [Smile]

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  11. Merry Christmas, Huns and Hoydens, cats, dogs, and all the little dragons.

    Ah, cod, aka Stockfisch, the breakfast of champions unless you are Polish and eat carp. Two books that explain more about fish on European tables than most folks ever want to know are: _Fish on Friday_ by Brian Fagan (highly recommended) and of course Mark Kurlansky’s _Cod_. Fagan’s book is a history of religion, fishing, sailing, and environmental change in Europe after 800. Very readable! Kurlansky’s book isn’t bad, but focuses more on cod and the Basques.

    I’m off to do battle with the cat as I carve the smoked turkey. We’re having gift-Christmas on St. Stephen’s Day/ Boxing Day, since Sib and Co. are arriving late this evening. (Ah, St. Stephen’s Day mass in Stephansdom in Vienna . . . but that’s a wonderful memory for another day.)

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    2. Speaking of Kindles and books … I’m running a special sale of my e-books on Amazon and B&N for anyone who got a Kindle or a Nook for Christmas. 25% off the usual low – book price.

      We now return to your usual Christmas Day programming. The Fish on Friday book sounds fun, I might be tempted myself.

      It is a curiosity that things like oysters and lobster were once so plentiful that they were the cheap food option on American tables in the 19th century… at least in coastal areas.

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  18. Merry Christmas to all the Huns! I’ve spent Christmas more often with my daughter and the cats and dogs than I have with the extended family, and I think I rather prefer it now – especially since I live more than a thousand miles away from the rest. We send emails and pictures back and forth to my brothers’ and my sisters family, with the kids showing off the gifts that we sent them. I’m afraid I am a rather eccentric auntie – the nieces and nephews get useful things like clothes, or improving books. (Sorry kids, Auntie Celia does not do plastic junk-toy o’the moment for Christmas. Auntie Celia does practical things for which you may thank me in decades to come.)

    One of our traditions at a certain point growing up was that my father would take the four of us and the dogs for a long hike in the hills on Christmas day, leaving Mom and Grandma in the house to prepare Christmas dinner. Today, my daughter and I took the dogs for a long walk on the hill next to our neighborhood – the top of which offers a view all the way to downtown San Antonio.

    We’re going to have roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for Christmas dinner. I am usually so sick of Thanksgiving turkey leftovers by the time we hit Christmas that we have practically anything else.

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  19. Merry Christmas!
    We do the midnight Christmas Eve service (which actually starts at eleven) and for which Eldest Son is always an acolyte. Since it’s a candlelight service, picture the rambunctious eleven-year-old, with a ten year old girl who isn’t afraid to tell him to “Sit still and shut up!” and two-hundred-odd candles to light. Which they did in perfect synchronization. And the hundred-year-old church survived.
    In the morning we open presents then eat pulla. Little girl received one of my old dolls, a two-year-old sized doll. The look on the real two-year-old’s face was priceless. “Baby!” Yes, even though she’s only two inches shorter than you. Carrying baby was a problem at first, but little girl quickly discovered that a fireman’s carry works.
    Christmas with children is so fun.

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  20. One of our Christmas traditions is the mangled felt Santa. He’s been in the family nearl 100 years now, losing limbs to children every few decades. But every year he’s still put in his place of honor on the tree.

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  21. My birthday is Xmas (and this one is the big 6-0). My brother’s was Xmas Eve, but he’s no longer with us, the 4th in a line of men all of whom ended up taking their own lives. (Brittle, these males in my father’s line). So the Xmas season is a very mixed sentiment holiday for me.

    In Virginia, there is a small Old Chapel (Berryville), no longer in use except for twice a year, to keep it sanctified. Unheated, simple, white-washed, and colonial. At one time it was the only chapel in British America west of the Blue Ridge mountain. It was outgrown early in its career and thus never remodeled. This means it still has the loft and separate entrance for the slaves. The cemetery includes several famous names. http://www.flickr.com/photos/karenmyers/sets/72157604260409672/

    I bring this up, because, though I have long since lapsed into atheism from my Catholic upbringing, still I can greatly appreciate the culture of Christianity. Standing in that chapel at dawn to sing carols on Xmas, or on Easter to sing Sacred Harp tunes, the only services held there anymore, is a numinous experience, even without explicit belief, and in that vein, I wish you all… A Very Merry Christmas

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  23. Read NEVER LOOK BACK last night. Enjoyed it!

    “I remembered that mood. The beat of lonely, terrible guilt within you, horrible and tempestuous like a stormy sea. I knew the shores of futility it broke against, those shores of what had happened that could not be changed, that could never be changed.”

    Vivid image, nicely written.

    The cod reminds me of Martin Cruz Smith’s second Arkady Renko book, POLAR STAR. Renko visits some Portuguese fishermen at sea, gets treated to red wine, dried cod, videotaped soccer. A good book in a nice series.

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  24. I posted a Christmas wish on my Facebook page, and won’t repeat it here, but Merry Christmas, Sarah and her family, and peace and prosperity for the new year for everyone, especially the Huns and Hoydens!

    We have few Christmas traditions left after so many moves. Turkey for dinner is the usual fare, but we’ve also had ham, pot roast, chicken, and once, a goose. Never again on the goose! So much grease cooked out that not even the cornbread stuffing could absorb it all.

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  25. Merry Christmas y’all! It has been me and the dogs so far for Christmas, since my family is all meeting on the coast. But a friend has invited me for Christmas dinner, so I’ll be heading over there to graze, shortly. :)

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  30. “Christmas, what does that mean to you, Ted? Do you know what it’s like to fall in the mud and get kicked… in the head… with an iron boot? Of course you don’t, no one does. It never happens. Sorry, Ted, that’s a dumb question… skip that. ” [Kramer, _Airplane!_]

    My holidays never quite Sucked *that* badly; however, having no friends, being 3-5 years younger than everyone else (and we all know how much older siblings want their younger siblings tagging along, don’t we?), and having a birthday within a week of Christmas proper — well, let’s just say: Now that most of my relatives are dead, and I don’t have to associate with them and theirs any more, I’ve actually managed to have some relatively-pleasant holidays lately.

    That said, I think this year has solidly secured my place in Hell. I wanted something for Christmas a little… odd: Time-Life Books’ series on The Third Reich. So, this year, the household got to see wrapping paper with “Pace” and “joy” written on it ripped open to reveal… Dear Old Uncle Adi et Cie.

    I suspect next year, my holidays will look like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLhkStL0xyM …. >:)

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  32. Speaking of fish…we had a Christmas Fish miracle this year. (Fishmas?) My mother recently moved to a house with a couple of ponds, one of which had had koi–all removed before the sale and handed off to people who actually know how to take care of them. I examined the ponds myself, and they were fish-free.

    Until this week, returning from a late-night dog walk, complete with necessary flashlight, revealed—a flash. A very nice orange and white koi, swimming around with vigor.

    One problem. He was in the pond that never had koi. Also, he *only* comes out a night. I have verified this. So, we appear to have a vampire koi that can teleport. I suppose it is *theoretically* possible he got sucked into the main circulation system when he was a hatchling and could fit, but why only come out at night?

    Merry Christmas to the Huns!

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  33. We didn’t have much in the way of Christmas traditions, except for decorating the house some, putting up the tree, and hanging stockings from the mantelpiece. Then get the family together for dinner. My uncle would almost always show up for Christmas sometime between late January and mid-March, though one year he didn’t make it till May. (I also was one to sleep late on holidays, not getting up at the crack of dawn to see what Santa had brought, like many did)

    Christmas has been postponed till Saturday this year, while my father recovers in the hospital from dehydration. He won’t drink enough to compensate for the water pills he is on to keep the fluid off his lungs, and they had to haul him in a few days ago. This is rather disconcerting to my wife, who is very much tied to doing things on the particular day they are “supposed” to be on.

    Merry Christmas to everyone, and keep on keeping on.

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  34. I hope everyone survived the Saturnalia. I spent my day resting up, working the speed bag, adjusting my gloves and washing and pressing the trunks so as to be ready for tomorrow, Boxing Day.

    I think this year I am scheduled to meet the Ghost of Christmas Pissed.

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  35. Merry Christmas!

    We do gifts and family on Christmas Eve, because cows eat every morning.

    Someone is Santa, keeping a gift in as many hands as possible, and we admire after everything is open.

    Not much specifically religious– it’s kinda infused to everything…lot more Christmas puns, though.

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  36. Hi Sarah,

    Merry Christmas!

    A weirder Portuguese tradition is that of some inland areas in the North where octopus is the main dish. These areas are usually quite far from the sea, so it is an odd choice.

    Around here the tradition is to eat carne de vinha d’alhos. That translates to something like garlic and wine meat, and it’s pork meat marinated in a local version of the vinha d’alhos marinade made with wine, wine vinegar, herbs (bay leafs and oregano are a common combo), lots of garlic and salt. A simple farmer’s dish that comes from when almost everyone around here was a small farmer, and killed a pig for Christmas.

    People are likely more familiar with the vinha d’alhos version created in what was Portuguese India, the vindaloo. Despite what some pompous chefs claim, fusion cuisine or fusion cooking is not something recent or that unusual. People have been doing it for a very long time. And, yes, that’s a pet peeve of mine. :0)

    Regards
    Rui Jorge

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    1. How cool. I didn’t know that about vindaloo (I don’t often eat Indian food, though I did almost exclusively while pregnant with #1 son. Don’t ask.)
      Yeah, we normally had lamb in vinha d’alhos on the day. :-P My family doesn’t like lamb. And next year I’m spatchoking the turkey. (This year I got lazy.)

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      1. I didn’t either until I saw it on a tv cooking show, and latter confirmed it looking around in the interwebs. :0) Another amusing tv cooking show induced discovery was that the Japanese tempura was inspired by the Portuguese taste for deep fried stuff. And we probably acquired that taste from someone else. Tasty food and cooking really likes to travel. :0)

        Lamb is also a popular dish this time of year around here. And there are even some people who do turkey. That’s clearly due to US tv shows and movies influence. Have to give it a try one of these days. :0)

        Regards,
        Rui Jorge

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