Tis the season...

Merry Christmas, readers. (Note: if you are looking at this, I am considering you a reader).

Tis' the holiday of giving, receiving, spending time with family and... eating and drinking. Perhaps even more so than Thanksgiving. My Italian father, with an intense love and knack for cooking, basks in the glow of opportunity to stuff his family (uncomfortably) full for one evening and one day, beginning Christmas Eve. Being Italian, we part-take in the Feast of the Seven Fishes on Christmas Eve. We have been doing this for as long as I can remember and each year the feast grows- not in the number of people who attend, but in the number of different dishes served. (The number of people who attend has actually dwindled over the years, causing me to question the actual, real appeal of this meal to others.) I am not sure exactly what seven fishes are traditionally present at such a feast- it is our tradition to improvise and place our orders with the cook, who rarely fails to serve more than one delectable version of a dish. For instance, this year my brother asked for crab. Crab cakes and warm lump crab meat with melted butter were present on our Christmas Eve table. Shrimp? This year they came deep friend, coconut coated, scampiied, and cold with cocktail sauce. Fried flounder and fried calamari also appeared among the spread. But there is one dish that trumps all the other concoctions and it is served first. Angel hair pasta with allege gravy. What is this allege gravy and how do you pronounce it, you ask? Phonetically: a-lee-j. What's in the name? Tomato sauce, some Italian spices, and anchovies.

Yes, anchovies. I know, exactly, the crinkled expression on your face as you re-read the word "anchovies." And yes, your vision is correct- those tiny, hairy, extremely potent, very fishy fish that make your eyes water if eaten alone (I do not recommend this). But, used in tomato sauce, they can be solely credited for the resulting coalescence of delicious sauce that my family and I look forward to once a year, all year long. And let me clear something up- the sauce isn't ridden with sunken chunks of revolting anchovy fish. Rather, the anchovies sort of melt into the tomato sauce, flavoring it in a less than powerful, salty type of way. Whatever though, it's awesome.

Our feast requires days of preparation and almost an entire 24 hour period of deep-frying. A deep-fried fog clouds our one-story ranch for about three hours prior to our meal. It is painful. Often, I need to take leave and stand outside, or open a window to breathe by. My eyes sting intensely. And though we devour this meal in about 30 minutes (if we take our time), it's totally worth it. It's not just about the food- it's the only 30 minutes of the year that the four of us sit down together at the same table without complaints. I would like to think that this is what everyone looks forward to, even more than my father's gourmet cooking.

But, I also do not want to kid myself. The food is fabulous and the drinks flow like water from the tap. This year, I promptly got drunk before the meal began, which made consuming an abundant amount of salty food all the more better (and me at the table all the more entertaining). The meal is also followed by my father's infamous Italian knot cookies (and this year, cheesecake!). In the morning we wake up to scrambled eggs, potatoes, coffee (and this year, giant cinnamon buns!) All day long we snack on leftovers and other holiday goodies, like candy. We start drinking early. Now it's time for some lasanga and ham.

Yeah, Christmas is definitely all about the food.