Christmas food traditions conjure up warm memories of family celebrations past

Delighting in the festive feast

By Anna Weaver
Hawaii Catholic Herald

Each year on the last school day before Christmas break, the faculty, staff and administration of Our Lady of Good Counsel School in Pearl City gather for a holiday meal.

“This is basic, but very special for us,” principal Chantelle Luarca said. “We end the day early with the students and make sure to gather in this special way so we may celebrate the glorious Christmas season as a school faculty and staff ohana!”

On the Christmas luncheon menu the last three years were hearty Italian pasta dishes. Other Catholic schools in the islands similarly gather their faculty and staff for a meal, either out at a restaurant or on campus as a way to say thank you.

St. Anthony School in Kailua employees dined at Baci Bistro in Kailua in past years. But this year, they got to pick from a takeout selection from the restaurant — fettuccine alfredo, chicken marsala, salad and a sausage dish — which they enjoyed in a festively decorated school hall with dessert, games and an ornament exchange.

If you think back to your favorite Christmas memories, they likely are linked in some way to food, for feasting has long gone hand-in-hand with festivities.

We asked our readers, diocesan staff, clergy and religious order members to share their favorite Christmas food memories. Bon appetit!

Sweet bread and ‘stone soup’

By Father Michael Owens

When I was a pastor, I used to cook Portuguese bean soup at the parishes I was assigned to and serve it after Midnight Mass. In some parishes, I also made sweet bread.

It’s a custom of my family that I shared with the family God gave me as a priest. I don’t have a recipe for the soup. It’s just what and how I saw my mother doing, which she saw her mother doing and so on back generations. All I can tell you is that it’s an all-day process.

My family would make about 14 loaves of sweet bread at a time, by hand, along with cookies and fruitcake that all of our large family — I’m the oldest of nine — baked. Throughout the year, my mother would look for large platters that we would place these treats on. We would give them as gifts, with a “From the Owens Family Bakery” label drawn by my brother.

On Christmas morning, we would eat cubes of “vinha d’alhos,” pork marinated and cooked in vinegar or wine and spices. We’d eat it with toasted cubes of bread for breakfast. At other times of the year, we would have it as a roast with potatoes, carrots and onions.

I’ve learned over the years that practically every Portuguese family has its own oral or visual recipes for Portuguese bean soup, sweet bread, vinha d’alhos and other foods.

Recently I learned that the Portuguese name for the soup could be translated into English as “stone soup” since the kidney beans used look like little stones.

When I found this out, it reminded me of the children’s story about a pilgrim, who teaches a village the gift of sharing by boiling a stone in a pot outside of a miser’s house for whom he had worked for earlier that day and who then refused to pay him.

The villagers are curious when they hear the noise the boiling stone is making as it hits the side and lid of the pot and come to see what’s happening. The pilgrim brags he can make the best soup with this special stone, but it would be better if there was a bone in it. So someone brings a bone.

He then laments that it would be even better if garlic, onion, celery and parsley (staples for any Portuguese dish) were added to the boiling soup. Villagers go to their homes and contribute the items. Alas, if only it had some tomatoes, potatoes, and carrots. Others go to their homes and add them to the soup.

By this time the villagers themselves mention items that would make a good soup with other villagers contributing the items. When the soup is finally served, they all comment on how tasty and filling the soup was, testifying that it’s the best soup they ever had.

The pilgrim tells them, “I told you so! God always provides!” The pilgrim takes his stone, cleans it, places it in his bag and then moves on to another village. God always provides! Will you share your “stone soup” with the next pilgrim you meet?

Father Owens is a retired Diocese of Honolulu priest.

Roasted pig and hot chocolate

By Esther Gefroh

I am Peruvian Chinese. My parents, sister and I were born in Peru, but I grew up in Paterson, New Jersey, before moving to Hawaii as an adult. I was the eldest of five children growing up. Years later, my parents adopted two little boys.

Our tradition for Christmas Eve was to go to midnight Mass. We then returned home and opened our presents, which is what we kids really waited for. I don’t think we paid much attention to what was happening at Mass that night. After we opened up our presents, we indulged in the Italian Panettone Motta, which was a Peruvian tradition brought to the country by Italian immigrants. And we would have my mom’s “chocolate caliente” or hot chocolate. My mom’s hot chocolate recipe involved boiling water and sugar together. Then she added a can of Carnation’s evaporated milk. It was so delicious!

On Christmas Day, we ate marinated roast pork. One time we even had a whole suckling pig that was too big for our oven, so my parents had the Cuban bakery in downtown Paterson roast it for us. My mom would marinate the pork (with skin on) in vinegar and seasonings for several days. She used all kinds of fresh herbs like basil, oregano, parsley, cilantro, bay leaf, cumin, and LOTS of garlic, salt and pepper. Then she would roast the pork in the oven until the meat fell off the bone and the skin was crispy.

She served the pork with boiled yuca or cassava, sweet potatoes and a vinegar-garlic sauce, my Chinese grandfather’s fried garlic, and a big green salad with lettuce, tomatoes, celery, sweet onions and cucumbers, all sliced thinly and served with a lemon- oil dressing.

I have continued that tradition throughout the years, especially here in Hawaii, even though our Christmas Eve Mass is much earlier than midnight.

Gefroh is co-coordinator of the Spiritual Moms Apostolate and the World Apostolate of Fatima in the Diocese of Honolulu, and a parishioner at Sacred Heart Parish and Sts. Peter and Paul Parish, both in Honolulu.

Friends become family over food

By Brother Christopher Derige Malano, CSP

During my undergraduate studies at the University of New Mexico, there were years when the cost of travel was more than my family could manage and it was more prudent for me to spend Christmas and New Year in the southwest.

My friends from the University of New Mexico, whom I met at the Newman Center and the UNM bands, were kind enough to extend their Christian hospitality and take me in so I would not spend the holidays alone.

My friend Jeanette Borunda and her family were determined to teach a flatfooted guy from the tropics how to ski. Besides that, her parents, Frank and Pat, would make a mouthwatering slow-cooked brisket. Waiting for the satisfaction of enjoying that meal together was a real test of the virtue of patience.

As a fellow history major, my friend Katrina Bustillos showed me around the historical sites of southern New Mexico, known for once being haunts of the infamous Billy the Kid. Her parents, Deacon Jerry and Virginia, welcomed me to take part in their family tradition of making rows and rows of pork-stuffed tamales. Like Filipino lumpias, tamales are labor-intensive and require a lot of preparation to make. Then people quickly devoured them soon after they are taken out of the steamer. Everyone in the family was involved in the collaborative effort, each with a dedicated task that would yield hundreds of tamales.

Waiting for the brisket and the tamales to be cooked had a certain excitement to it, in the same way we joyfully anticipated the birth of the Emmanuel, our God with us. The quality time we spent together culminated in going to Mass at each family’s respective parishes. While the brisket and the tamales were so delicious that I can still taste them as I recall these memories, the time spent together would solidify friendships that have lasted over 20 years now.

Paulist Brother Derige Malano is from Hawaii and in religious formation on the mainland.

Days and days of fiesta

By Thelma L. Tiambeng-Bright

Growing up in the town of San Juan, Rizal, in the Philippines brings up a lot of festive, joyful family Christmas stories and memories. I can remember the many preparations to get ready for Jesus’ birthday. In addition to cleaning house, we all took part in planning the menu,

Our parish church, St John the Baptist, was the center of activity in our town for the youth and older church members. So, when Advent came around, the praesidium of the Legion of Mary led by the church elders started to clean up and decorate the church. In addition, Christmas choir practices were scheduled for the novena of Masses we call “Misa de Gallo” (Mass of the Rooster) or “Simbang Gabi” (early dawn Mass) starting on Dec. 17 and ending on Christmas Eve with an awesome, joyful, music-filled celebration outdoors.

For nine days, a marching band played loud music with their trumpets, drums and cymbals around the town starting at 4 a.m. so parishioners could get ready for the 5 a.m. novena of Masses. It was very special. Walking to church was fun as it was like an early morning walk or jog. The neighborhood walked together. As you approached the church plaza, the aromas of hot sweet rice cakes, warm breads, and hot chocolate greeted you. In addition, many vendors selling candles, jasmine leis or garlands lined the entrance to the church. It was like “fiesta” every day for nine days.

On Christmas Eve, my parents and their eight kids made it a point to be at church about an hour before the service because the whole town would be present in the celebration of the midnight High Mass. On this night, the altar sat high on a stage, well lit, adorned with poinsettias, candles and many bright lights. The church rooftop was decorated with a creche. During Mass, parishioners either stood or knelt on the grassy ground, no chairs. This part reminded me of the shepherds visiting Baby Jesus as they knelt on the ground to honor him.

After Mass, we went home to partake in “Noche Buena” (Night of Plenty). Most of the Christmas spread would have been prepared during the two-week Christmas school break. We had plenty of kitchen help from relatives like my dad’s aunt whom we called “Lola” (grandmother) and other aunts and cousins who stayed with us for the holidays. Lola would bring us her homemade chocolate balls. These were mixed with hot milk and brown sugar. Lola was also in charge of cooking purple taro (sweet potato) pudding mixed with lots of coconut milk and sugar and simmered in a huge pot while mixing it with a large ladle. The pudding was ready when most of the coconut milk evaporated and the coconut oil was rendered on top of the pudding. It took up to an hour and a half to cook.

Every Christmas my dad received a gift of a Chinese whole leg of ham. I remember it being so hard (salt-infused) that it took about a week or so to soak it to soften it and remove some of the saltiness. Since the ham was already cooked, it was warmed on the stove for a while before slicing it.

I remember chopping potatoes and other veggies for the potato salad. A unique ingredient added just before serving was chopped beets that turned the salad pinkish. For dessert we had fruit salad using drained fruit cocktail, and other fresh fruits, plus my mom’s famous “leche flan.”

Since Noche Buena is almost a breakfast meal, we also served “queso de bola” (cheese ball) sliced in squares to make cheese “pan de sal” (rolls) sliders. When available, grapes and Asian apples imported from Taiwan or Hong Kong graced the table too.

Last but not the least, homemade “suman” (glutinous rice half-cooked in coconut milk and salt) wrapped like skinny tamales in banana leaves were steamed before serving them with smoked mullet.

After the meal, at about 4 a.m., we opened presents. We did this last because the main events were the Mass and having a meal together. But nonetheless, there was always the excitement of opening presents. By this time everyone would be ready to call the early morning festivities over. So off to bed we went, only to start over later in the morning when my parents’ godchildren would come by the house to pay their respects to my parents, kissing their hands, enjoying a snack with us and visiting for a while. Before the godchildren left, Mom and Dad would hand them their Christmas gifts.

Tiambeng-Bright, of St. Elizabeth of Hungary Parish in Dallas, is a frequent visiting parishioner at St. Michael Parish in Kailua-Kona.

Christmas breakfast soup

By Father William Tulua

For Christmas breakfast, my family ate “posole” or “menudo.” It is a soup that is a little spicy but has been known as a remedy for those who would have, well, a little too much to drink the night before. I do not drink, but I do love good food.

I have made posole, not for Christmas but for a group. I cannot make it too spicy but it is still very flavorful. Posole brings back memories of my grandfather, who would make it the night before and cook it throughout the night. Grandma would make the tortillas by hand. I tried to make tortillas one time. But when I rolled them out and placed the dough on the comal (flat hot plate), they turned out like frisbees! Needless to say, after that my family was laughing at me. We joked that I shouldn’t try again for I don’t have the patience to make tortillas. It takes quite a lot of kneading.

Fresh onions, cilantro and lime would be placed in a bowl and the flavors left to mingle together for posole! Wow! What a wonderful flavor. It truly brings back memories for me as a young child. God bless you, grandma and grandpa, for introducing such a wonderful dish!

Father Tulua is parochial vicar of St. Catherine Parish in Kapaa, Kauai.