So the Victorian Christmas wasn’t always so perfect, with all the social ills of the period, but in Dickens’ view, Christmas was what you made of it. And I think he understood the celebration far better than a lot of people do today.
What makes a perfect Christmas, or other holiday event?
Three things:
- Not trying to make it perfect,
- Enjoying the company, and
- Serendipity
I see a lot of emphasis these days on beautifully-curated images of holiday scenes, made to look pretty for social media, but over the years I’ve also seen a lot of people drive themselves crazy trying to live up to some Hallmark©-worthy ideal.
But the best Christmases – and in fact the best holidays in general, whether celebrations or vacations – are those that just come together in a magical, sometimes unexpected way.
My family, with a European background, placed the emphasis on Christmas Eve, and I’ve continued the tradition. But when you’re working full time and the Eve falls on a weekday, it’s not so easy to summon the energy. And so one of my favourite Christmas Eves celebrated with beautiful simplicity.
It was the Friday night of a tiring week. Earlier, I’d come across a recipe for a Gumbo with chicken, andouille sausage and shrimp that looked not very labour-intensive, and would be a good make-ahead dish. It sounded ideal.
That evening was one of those cold, dark nights of winter when you really feel the need for lights and warmth. I’d produced an enormous amount of Gumbo, filling one of my cast-iron soup pots almost to the lid. As I reheated it, I put piles of sliced crusty bread in a basket and made my favourite company-worthy salad. There was an English trifle dessert, also made ahead, waiting in the fridge. Candles were lit and holiday music turned on as our family began to arrive.
Seating was informal, and the food was self-serve straight from the pot. The mood was cozy and relaxed, snugged inside our house eating unfussy, delicious food. It seemed to strike a chord. Much to our amazement – and delight – the entire pot of stew disappeared, not even a dribble left on the bottom. After a little while, we turned on the coffee maker and kettle, and brought out the sweet finale.
What a wonderful, warm and convivial evening that was! I’m an experienced cook, so we knew the food would go over well, but we couldn’t have foreseen how special it would all turn out – just a combination of circumstances that came together to make it memorable.
It’s been my observation that the harder you try to find that elusive perfection, the farther that result recedes from view. And why should anything be ‘perfect’ anyway? Who even decides what that is? To my mind, it’s the delight of the unscripted. The best times my hubby and I have had are when things surprise us, and those have rarely been in a bad way.
Last year we spent New Year’s Eve with our cousin in Tennessee. The plan was to go for Christmas, as we’ve done a few times in the past, but a massive blizzard spreading all the way from where he lives about 20 minutes outside of Nashville up though Ohio, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Ontario and Quebec made that impossible. We were able to finally hit the road on December 27th. While we were there, I’d thought to cook a nice meal on NYE, but as we were figuring what to do for the ‘big night’, the Chinese Lantern Festival at the Nashville Zoo – Zoolumination – held a lot of appeal. The weather was fine, and we headed over in mid-afternoon to walk around in the daytime and get a sense of the layout.
A little after four p.m. we bugged out to go and have a light dinner, and found a Turkish restaurant just down the road from the Zoo. The meal was generously-portioned and fabulous, so much so that we just took our doggie bags with us to enjoy leftovers later.
We returned to the Zoo at dusk, when acres of breathtakingly beautiful silk tableaux from Chinese mythology, as well as some traditional North American holiday vignettes, all lit up against the velvety black sky. A few hours passed while we strolled along the pathways, as did many families enjoying NYE together with their children.
Later in the evening we returned to our cousin’s house full of good cheer, in time to open a bottle of champagne and eat the dessert I’d assembled the night before. One of the neighbours popped by for a while and shared the treats with us, and it was just a lovely, low-key way to mark the turning of the calendar.
One lesson I’ve learned over decades of holiday events is that if the hosts aren’t relaxed, the guests won’t be either.
A few years ago my hair stylist was grousing about trying to host a nice Thanksgiving meal while herding everyone to the table away from drinking beer and glued to a televised football game. The prospect was really bothering her, so I asked her, “Are they enjoying themselves, watching the game?”
“Yes, I guess so,” she replied.
“Well, isn’t that the idea?” I said. “Why not just put the food on the table in warming pans and let your guests eat when they’re ready? Less stress for you, and everyone has a good time.”
She looked at me. “I’ve never thought of it that way. I’m going to try that.”
I asked her at the next appointment how things had gone, and she gave me a hug. “The best piece of advice I’ve ever gotten.”
So this holiday season, take it easy on yourself. Good food doesn’t have to be fancy or elaborate, just yummy. The house/condo/apartment doesn’t have to look perfect, just welcoming. A celebration is all about the joy you get out of it, and the time you spend with loved ones and friends. Dickens knew it very well.