Food With A Point

There is something about this time of the year that makes me wax nostalgic about family gatherings. As much as this is a time to be grateful, for many it’s also a time to be fearful. The oft dreaded reunions “en famille” can be draining and this sentiment is often felt even before one gets a chance to take off their boots at the entrance. Oddly, in my experience “le réveillon” always offers a lovely banquet of food and fights and yet it remains an event I look forward to. This traditional festive fiasco is intriguing to witness on so many levels and as is de rigueur on all the national television chains, I too would like to replay this classic for all to enjoy.

It always starts with an invitation. No, sorry, first there are exhausting discussions about who is hosting the event, with all proposing to help but never offering their space. The final destination is determined by  a convoluted formula that factors in previous participation, number of small children and pets in the house, spousal relations, accessibility and size of kitchen. The squabbles may brew here, but we’re talking fumes, never a full simmer. So the (un)official invitation is put out there and the process is underway.

In some particularly sadistic households, other than bringing gifts (we’ll get to that in a bit), games may be suggested. These can include such terrible ideas as secret gift exchanges, guess what is in the package scenarios and steal someone elses or keep the one you chose set-ups. This programme add-on is communicated at the time of the invitation and all participants, even those who think it’s a very stupid idea, are expected to participate AND love every second of it. Why? Parce que c’est noël…

All members are expected to bring some sort of food contribution. A proper French Canadian Christmas buffet includes at least the following items:

• A ragoût de pattes
• Tourtière (variations on the theme are acceptable if from the Saguenay /Lac St-Jean)
• A turkey, ideally made by a septuagenarian
• A three-compartment dish containing: sweet gherkins, pickled onions, green olives stuffed with red peppers
• Party sandwiches, especially those that nobody eats because they have a maraschino cherry and cream cheese filling as well as the all-pleasing egg salad variety
• A potato salad, made by a Mon’oncle
• Mashed potatoes
• A medley of vegetables (if any) that has been steamed to oblivion and must include wax beans
• Ketchup – for the tourtière

It is when Grand-maman brings out her turkey and places it on table that there is a brief sense of cohesion and a true sense of family.  Even if it is just a fleeting moment, everyone knows why they are present and why everyone one else is supposed to be there. It is important to take care to notice this moment – it generally dissipate quickly, especially as the gift-opening session nears.

For dessert, it is essential that there be Christmas cake in the form of a decorated log. While the outside may seem nice and shiny from the creative use of chocolate and vanilla icing, the inside is usually a disappointing mix of vanilla cake mixed with overly sweet cherry or raspberry filling and whipped cream. Best to attack the cookies platter or the tarte au sucre for those who like to ride the waves of the insulin overdrive. Not to worry if the desserts run out, there is always the obscure Ma’tante you only see once a year at this party who made her famous “turtles” that you can snack on while the remainder of the evening unfolds in front of you. Don’t forget to keep your glass filled with your choice of red, white or rosé wine from any one of the boxes with the telltale owl on the packaging. Nevermind, your obnoxious cousin who always talks too loud won’t tolerate you seeing the bottom of your glass “parce que c’est noël!”

The climax of the story is when Papi sits in front of the tree under which there are gifts of all shapes and sizes. The kids go ballistic and most are already crying because they are tired or because they just realized that not all of those are for them exclusively. The tension at this point is palatable. The adults are all sporting uptight but cheery smiles and the anticipation of watching who gets shafted this year is eating away at them. Before any purchases were made, the broken telephone should have properly communicated who wanted what, but… it’s called broken telephone for a reason and someone is always disappointed. It’s not the 3-speed mixer they wanted, it’s the 5-speed… And how many times did they say it? But “parce que c’est noël”, much is left unsaid.

When the last gift has been opened, the general mood can only be alleviated by something sweet, strong and seasonal. Coffee starts to brew, brandy and other liqueurs get poured and sometimes whipped cream makes an appearance. Just a little something to warm up cold sentiments and remind us all that “parce c’est noël”, it’s really not the end of the world. Anyway, the bill is included in the box, nobody needs to know, and we only need to endure each others quirks and character flaws once a year.

To be honest, as much as no one really looks forward to this seasonal tradition, we sort of do. We have a twisted affinity for the predictability of the event, the way the table is set and mostly how everyone just knows which character they play. The setting is typical, the players are seasoned actors, the audience may change but it remains that it is well versed in the premise of the story and there are never any major changes to the props. And that’s often what the holiday season is about, the comfort of knowing that some things never change…