Revéillon- the Ultimate New Year’s Revel in Brazil

Few folks can party like South Americans. My mom would tell me stories of how millions of people dress up in white for New Years Eve in countries like Cuba and Brazil and head to the ocean for a sumptuous dinner. I often think of that experience- millions of revelers dressed in white on a moonlight- kissed beach, drinking tropical cocktails made of citrus juice and Cachaça (a sugar cane spirit), eating freshly grilled seafood and dancing. Now that’s how I’d like to spend a shiver-free New Year’s eve for a change!

And that’s exactly what the lucky masses and tourists do every year in Brazil. Second only to the country’s famous “Carnival,” there’s nothing quite like a Brazilian Revéillon to close out the old and ring in the new. While French in name only, the yearly Ano Novo parties in Brazil are particularly hot in beaches throughout Rio. The Zona Sul beaches, which include Copacabana, Flamengo, Ipanema (named after that girl), and Barra de Tijuca are where the real party starts.

White- the colour of good luck, peace, purity and the Goddess of the Sea- Yemanjá in the Candomblé religion- is the colour of choice for not only for clothing but the flowers, rice and trinkets offered to her that night. Candles are lit on the beach while revelers get ready to make their offerings. Once midnight strikes, the gifts are launched into the sea on model boats. If they’re swept out by the tides, good luck will ensue in the coming year. If they’re brought back to the shore, Yemanjá wishes you better luck next time. She’s a tough task master by all accounts.

Either way, party-goers have a well-choreographed, multi-hued fireworks display to light up the tropical night, beer stalls to hit and warm waters to go swimming in to wash away the year’s excesses. On New Year’s Day, to encourage an auspicious start to the new year, soups redolent with lentils, which symbolize wealth, are eaten by all to entice wallets more than waistlines to fatten up. I love lentil soup and I’ll happily wear white this New Years! Maybe if you could put in a good word to Yemanjá for me, I’ll soon see you in Rio!

Tamales

I used to spend Christmas holidays in Costa Rica and I have great memories of being invited to friends’ homes to share tamales on Christmas eve. Tamales are rarely eaten throughout the rest of the year, but are a Christmas eve tradition and every year my friend Jose Maria’s mother (and sister and aunts and friends) would get together and make around 250 of them and then trade with other friends and relatives who had made them with different kinds of fillings. It’s sort of like a cookie exchange - but with tamales.

I got to help on a couple of occasions and it was really a fun and festive time – all the more fun and festive because I didn’t have to make the corn dough that JM’s mother prepared from scratch. By the time I arrived it was a matter of assembling the tamales – chopping and mincing ingredients for the filling, cutting the plantain leaves and string to wrap the tamales, then wrapping them and boiling them. With a little music, a little wine, lots of talking.

One year when we didn’t get to CR, I made them for friends here and this year I decided to try them again. They aren’t exactly Costa Rican tamales because by the time I got around to buying my ingredients there weren’t any plantain leaves left and I bought corn husks instead. Corn husks are used for Mexican tamales and are steamed rather than boiled.

I used Maseca instant corn masa flour, which is very easy to make following directions on the package and I made two fillings - chicken and picadillo (ground beef). I lined each corn husk with the corn flour dough, then added a spoon of filling and wrapped and tied each tamale, then filled my steamers - a double boiler, a Oster steamer and a Chinese bamboo steamer.

I didn’t make 250 of them – because I don’t have anyone to trade with and I didn’t have friends over to share the tasks, but I will follow the tradition of having friends over on Christmas eve to share them.

Picadillo
1 Tbsp veg oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1-1/2 lbs minced beef
2 Tbsp tomato puree
1 green chili, seeded and finely chopped
14 oz can chopped tomatoes
½ tsp ground cumin
1 tbsp chopped oregano
2 tbsp chopped parsley
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
1 large potato, peeled and cut into small cubes

1) heat the oi8l in large pan and add the onions and garlic. Cook until the onions are soft, about 10 minutes.
2) Add minced beef in batches and cook, stirring constantly with a fork to break up any lumps.
3) Stir in tomato puree, chili, chopped tomatoes, cumin, oregano and half the parsley. Season to taste, bring to a boil, reduce heat and cook, covered for 20 minutes.
4) Add potato and cook, uncovered for another 20 minutes or until the potato is tender. Mix in remaining parsley and season to taste with salt and pepper.
5) Serve hot or use to fill empanadas, tamales, pies, etc.

Une tradition purement québécoise

This post is also available in English.

Depuis mon plus jeune âge, j’ai toujours adoré le temps des fêtes et plus particulièrement le réveillon de Noël. Chaque année, ma grand-mère recevait toute la famille et bien que sa maison fut petite et la famille de plus en plus grande, elle insistait pour nous y accueillir.

Cousins et cousines à la petite table, adultes à la grande table, tous étaient réunis autour des plats que ma grand-mère avait préparés avec tout son amour. Plusieurs choses ont changé au fil des ans, la famille a grandi, les enfants ont vieilli et une nouvelle génération d’enfants a vu le jour, mais le choix des plats servis est toujours resté le même et c’est parfait comme ça. Bien que ma grand-mère nous aie quitté l’année dernière, la tradition continue et ce sont mes tantes qui ont pris la relève. Le choix de hors d’œuvres varie d’année en année mais le repas principal se compose encore des traditionnels ragoût de boulettes, tourtière, patates pilées, dinde farcie, ragoût de pattes de cochon et atacas. Chaque année, quelques membres de la famille tentent de voler la vedette avec des petites douceurs qu’ils ont concoctées pour l’occasion, mais la légendaire bûche de Noël de tante Johanne remporte toujours la palme. La tarte au sucre de tante Thérèse, les carrés d’amour et les carrés aux dattes de ma mère suivent tout de même de près.

Cette année, rien ne me fera plus chaud au cœur que d’emmener mes enfants dans ma famille et de les voir vivre les joies du temps des fêtes avec autant de fébrilité que moi à leur âge.

A traditional Christmas Eve in Quebec

Cet article est aussi disponible en français.



For as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved the holidays, especially Christmas Eve. Every year, my grand-mother would welcome the whole family and although her house was small and the family growing constantly, she would insist on inviting everyone.

With the kids at the small table and the adults at the large table, everyone would gather around the yummy dishes that she had prepared with love. Much has changed throughout the years, the family got bigger, the kids have grown up and now a new generation of kids has arrived, but the selection of dishes has remained the same, and it’s perfect this way. Although my grand-mother passed away last year, the family tradition carries on with my aunts taking over for her. The selection of appetizers varies from year to year but the main course always consists of the same traditional dishes: ragoût de boulettes, tourtière (potpie), mashed potatoes, turkey with stuffing, ragoût de pattes de cochon and cranberry. Each year, some members of the family try to steal the show with a special desert that they prepared for the occasion, but my aunt Johanne’s legendary bûche de Noël (Yule log) is the grand winner, closely followed by aunt Thérèse’s sugar pie and my mother’s date squares and carrés d’amour.

This year, nothing will make me happier then bringing my kids over to the family gathering and witnessing them enjoy the holidays with as much excitement as I did when I was their age.

Christmas Down Under

I went searching for some Christmas Spirit this year, but not surprisingly, it was home that brought it to me.

I grew up in Adelaide in South Australia. Christmas in Australia is a different. To begin with, we don’t celebrate either Thanksgiving or Halloween and that means the lead up to Christmas starts somewhere around Easter. We bundle all our children’s hopes for unnecessary candy (lollies in the local vernacular) and all our adult gorging fantasies into the same day as our gifts. And our department stores put up trees in appreciation!

Now Australia has Christmas at the height of summer, but no one ever told my mother. Like many families we had roast turkey and all the trimmings every year. This is despite the fact that Christmas lunch was served in temperatures approaching 40 degrees (that’s outside the oven) and that we had no air conditioning. Yep. We perspired. So be warned and pick a well air-conditioned hotel if you are Down Under for the big day....or just go to the beach.

The heat explains an Australian phenomenon. It’s the wine known locally as ‘black bubbles’ or Sparkling Shiraz. Australian winemakers make red wines in the sparkling. Red sparkling wine may seem anathema to the rest of the world, but when you are faced with roast turkey on the hottest day of the year, you will embrace cold bubbly reds too. To be honest, some Sparkling Shiraz wines (they come in Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot forms too) can be excellent and surprisingly elegant. I like them and recommend that when down there you try them for a summer’s lunch.

Come to think of it, if I have one criticism of my childhood Christmases, then this was it: there was simply not enough alcohol. Please make sure that you adequately stock your cellar for the big day. I believe in two strategies for surviving Christmas; drink something you like and don’t say anything unless you think everyone else will find it funny.

Another celebration we share with Canada is Boxing Day. This is a vital piece of the puzzle that the USA misses out on. It has all the family togetherness of Christmas, all the food (leftovers) and all the enjoying of presents, without any of the stress. You spend no time worrying about whether her gift is just right or whether you spent more on him last year. You just relax with the people you love.

And you can enjoy all that leftover wine I made you buy.

Every Country has its Cookie

If any childhood memory of Christmas, beside that of finding a mountain of presents under the tree, sticks in my head it’s baking cookies with my mom. Every year, we would roll out sugar cookie dough and cut out shapes with festive cookie cutters before popping them in the oven. When we were done, sprinkles and icing awaited to decorate the cookies that we were carefully crafting. After all, they were for our most important guest. Paired with a glass of milk, the cookies sat out Christmas Eve in anticipation of Santa’s arrival.

Now as an adult, I like to partake in the various cookie traditions from around the world as the festive season happens upon us.

One of my favourite Italian cookies that are usually available at speciality stores this time of year are amaretti cookies. They come in two varieties, hard and soft. But believe me, the soft ones are the way to go. They melt in your mouth as they give way to a bitter almond essence. Serve these treats with a cup of strong espresso after dinner. The ones I buy come wrapped in colourful paper and would make a great addition to any stocking.

Austria has given the world Linzer cookies. Another sandwich cookie made with two sugar cookies and seedless jam, it’s a popular (and colourful) choice for the season. They look pretty on any cookie platter and even kids enjoy this simple choice.

One of the most difficult festive treats to make properly are the French macarons. A meringue based sandwich cookie usually filled with a ganache, these little confections come in a rainbow of colours and flavours. They’re a popular gift at Christmas time (in case you hadn’t bought me anything yet).

In South America, Alfajores, a shortbread like sandwich cookie filled with the south American pastry staple, dulce de leche, a caramelized condensed milk. The sweet butterscotch-type filling is a great foil against the rich crumbly cookie.

Even Scotland, the country whose most notable contribution to the culinary world is haggis, the blood sausage made of sheep’s stomach, has one of the most-loved cookies for this time of year­—shortbread. Buttery and crumbly, when made properly, shortbread has just a touch of sweetness, but is pure decadence as it melts on your tongue. The world’s most famous shortbread maker Walkers is found in Northern Scotland. What better way to ring in the New Year than some shortbread and some Scottish malt whisky?

And lets not forget our own very Canadian, and very popular treat—Nanaimo bars. A nod to British Columbia and the upcoming 2010 Olympics, these chocolate treats and buttery filling have become a household staple during the holidays, even if you don’t make your own.
The great thing about culinary customs is that they are completely portable and we can share them wherever we are, even if our hearts are somewhere else this time of year.

Christmas Eve: Memories of Abbruzzo in Toronto

Christmas is filled with tradition, and for every family this tradition is translated uniquely through the various forms of worship, activity and food. Perhaps the most unifying element of the holiday –and the one that everyone relates to – is gathering around the table and sharing a meal with your friends and loved ones. Being from an Italian background, I can confidently say that, after family, food is pretty much the most important thing regardless of event or circumstance. I have to hand it to my mother and her sisters (natch) – who every year would invite all their siblings, in-laws and their kids over for Vigilia, or Christmas Eve. I remember all of us crammed into my oldest aunt’s basement, mismatched tables and chairs pulled together to accommodate the two dozen or so people. This was otherwise known as the ‘adult table’. The kids always sat (happily) in the next room where we could talk about fun stuff and goof off as we grew more hyper about unwrapping gifts.
The dishes were rustic; replications of the simple yet hearty meals from my mother’s own childhood in Abbruzzo. On la Vigilia, the menu consisted of only fish-based dishes: we started off with cappelini d’angelo con salsa di acciuga (angel hair pasta in a tomato and anchovy sauce), followed by a selection of verza (cabbage) sautéed in garlic and anchovy, faggioli (beans), acciuga fritta con pepperoni (fried anchovies with dried peppers) and baccalà, salt cod prepared in a saucy broth. Side dishes would include polenta, salad and maybe roasted peppers. I always called it quits after the pasta because my young palate deemed the flavours of the other dishes gross, though I have since grown to enjoy them (except for the baccalà – that’s just never going to happen).

Dessert consisted of a selection of donut-like fritters called crispelle, pizzelle (thin waffles) and caggionetti, deep fried pouches that resemble ravioli but are filled a mixture of ground almond, chestnut and chocolate.
As a self-confessed foodie I love all types of cuisine. Over the past several years, I have also had the pleasure of incorporating my boyfriend’s Czech/Polish heritage into the holiday meals. I’m also looking forward to his family’s Christmas dinner of all the things he enjoyed eating since his own childhood: pickerel, bean soup and kapusniak (Polish sauerkraut soup), coleslaw and two types of bobálky , a traditional ‘bread’ served in either a fried sauerkraut or ground poppy seed mixture.

Today, such large gatherings have become too onerous for my mother and aunts to undertake and the younger generations have maintained the tradition only within their immediate families. Within mine, I am next in line to take it over. And I am ready, fork and knife in hand.

Tradition is good on Christmas

Christmas was always something special when I was little. Back then I mostly cared about the gifts of course. The anticipation was huge and so was the appreciation. Back then in Poland we did not have access to Western goods but each year my uncle, who lived in England, would send us a package with all the goodies. My favorites were Mars, Snickers and Terry’s Chocolate Orange -yes, especially that one!

As I grew older I started paying more attention to the food my mom was cooking for this special day. In Poland, the most important part of Christmas is actually Christmas Eve. Traditionally, people would fast all day until the first star appeared on the night sky and then they would sit down for a one-of-a-kind dinner. The table was beautifully decorated and the centerpiece was a plate with wafers we would bring from church to share at the beginning of the meal to wish each person health, wealth and prosperity. The plate was situated on hay to symbolize Baby Jesus in the manger.

Some of the foods prepared for Christmas Eve would only be cooked for that one day. Usually it would take several days to prepare everything. There had to be 12 dishes for the 12 apostles and they would all be meat-less. This rule was in the meantime abandoned by the church that now allows meat dishes on Christmas Eve, but people still keep the tradition alive.

The table would be filled with food. There was carp (fried and in aspic); herring in oil; pierogi with cabbage and mushrooms as well as with potato and cheese; borsch with mushroom tortellini (we call them ears because of their shape); Christmas Eve Cabbage (my favorite no-meat version of bigos: sauerkraut with mushrooms, onions, prunes and lots of black pepper); dark rye bread and dried fruit compote to drink. For desert we would have things like kutia (wheat and poppy-seed with honey, raisins, hazelnuts, almonds, dates and figs) and poppy-seed cake. These were the typical dishes at my house, but there are many, many more.

And after dinner came gift time. When we were little our parents would send us to wash our hands after dinner and when we came back the gifts had magically appeared under the tree. And the fun began…

Navidad in Colombia

I remember as a little girl, the absolute thrill I felt during Christmas; and it wasn’t just about the presents and the treats. In my birth country, Colombia, we didn’t get presents from Santa Claus (or Papa Noel). Nope, it was all about sharing in the birthday of Baby Jesus (or El Niño Jesus). When I was a little girl, I used to think him the MOST generous of all birthday boys because it was he who left presents under the tree for me if I had been half way decent throughout the year (luckily, he was a forgiving sort).

Our faith and the celebratory mood of Christmas in Colombia always go hand in hand. Navidad- or Christmas in Spanish, really starts on December 7th. At dusk, the lighting of “las velitas” or the candles happens all over the country. Children and adults light candles and lanterns to make tunnels of soft, white light that beautifully illuminate the most humble of neighbourhoods, to the most spectacular streets and churches. This is done to celebrate the day of “La Virgen de la Immaculada Concepción”- or the day of the Virgin of the Immaculate conception- on December 8th. And since this is Colombia, there’s always a fiesta for every occasion, including music, buñuelos (savoury cheese fritters), cornmeal empanadas stuffed with meat and potatoes and the occasional firework display.

By December 16th, the Novenas (or daily prayers) begin for nine days until Christmas Eve, which is reserved for midnight mass followed by a feast at home. Meant to remind Colombians about the true meaning of Christmas, the Novenas are also a good excuse to gather family, sing villancicos (Spanish Christmas carols), and eat Christmas foods including my favourite- natilla (a set custard made with cinnamon that tastes like firm dulce de leche), served with a side of buñuelos, hot chocolate for the kids and a shot of aguardiente (literally “firewater”) - an anise-flavoured spirit made from sugar cane, for the adults. Roasted pig is always on the menu this time of year as are tamales, plantain-leaf steamed cornmeal masa packets wrapped around mildly chicken or pork and veggies.

But my favourite tradition has to do with engaging children to think about how lucky they are. I remember buying gifts, wrapping them and then going to deliver them to those less fortunate than myself- and I did this in Canada with my Colombian parents. If I ever have children, this would be one of the first things I’d like to do for Christmas. The expression on those kids’ faces has never left me. For at least one day a year, we can all be as generous as the birthday boy himself!

Not your ordinary fruitcake

I know it’s only November, but I have a confession to make. I’m a closet Christmas-a-holic.

That’s right. I’m not the type that breaks out the office Christmas décor November 1, but I will listen to Christmas carols when I’m alone at home, or in the car, and I’m secretly hoping my husband will bend his rule about not putting up the tree until Dec. 1.

The holidays are a foodie’s dream come true. Any indulgence is fair game at this time of year, and it’s also a time to embrace food from different cultures as we all seem to agree that regardless of religious affiliation, there is something to celebrate as the end of the year draws closer.

One Christmas tradition that seems to run through the Caribbean and has now become part of my family rituals in Black Cake. Similar in some ways to Fruit Cake that we see in North America, Black Cake is made of dried and candied fruit, eggs, butter and flour, and a lot of alcohol. Usually around this time of year, the soaking of the dried fruit begins as we anticipate the making of this holiday treat.

My Antiguan mother-in-law uses sherry for her Black Cake, which we served up at as a parting gift to our wedding guests earlier this year. However, each family and each island does their cake a little different, and in most parts, rum is the alcohol of choice for the cake, at least in the finishing stage. I dare you to find a Jamaican who thinks otherwise.

The soaking goes on for weeks, and months even. And then about a week before Christmas, the rest of the ingredients are added to the minced up fruit and Black Cake emerges from the oven, but it’s still not ready yet.

It has to be dampened with more alcohol, until Christmas. This is called "wetting the cake." Each day, the cake is taken out of its foil and plastic wrapping and a small amount of alcohol is poured over the cake, then it is flipped and more alcohol is poured over the bottom. It is then covered again, and put back into the refrigerator awaiting its next wetting. While in North America, the gift of fruit cake is often dreaded, the gift of Black Cake is a sign of great affection. The expense and work that goes into such a cake lets the recipient know just how special they are.

And if you get the chance to sample black cake while in the Caribbean you’ll taste not only the local flavour, but you’ll sample a little of their soul too.

My mother-in-law is the keeper of our family recipe, but the New York Times printed one that's pretty good.