I prefer mine spiked with a little bourbon. Hopefully, at this writing, the adult male member of the household has made the run to the grocery and liquor stores, and we're fully stocked with the makings of some good,old-fashioned eggnog.
It's how we like to spend our Christmas eve.
We're not really a family that's big on tradition, but it seems our years evening before Christmas consists of the spiked nog, settling before the television, and watching the video of our daughter's first Christmas, when both her Nonnie and Papa were still alive. Afterwards, we watch A Christmas Story and then It's a Wonderful Life.
If I can work up the ambition and enough guilt, I'll make my way to a midnight mass.
To be honest, Christmas eve hasn't been the same since my mom passed away. She made it special for everyone and anyone who showed up at her house. The number of gifts under the tree were embarrassing. We could have helped restock a homeless shelter with clothing, bath items, and electronics. No one left my mom's house empty-handed.
One of my favorite dinners she'd make was a pork roast with an apricot glaze. I never bothered to get the recipe from her, and after she died, I had to make long search of the internet to track down something that came close. The only thing I remembered was the glaze was made with apricot jam and Russian salad dressing. It sounds disgusting, but it is seriously delicious.
After she passed away, my brothers and I started doing our own holiday plans with our respective families. I usually make the trek north to see them the day after Christmas. We all like for the young cousins to see each other and stay close, or at least as close as possible. Not always easy when your homes are separated by more than five hundred miles.
So tonight, I will try to figure out what to feed the two other members of my household. It won't be an apricot glazed pork roast, I'm sad to admit. Maybe next Christmas eve.
But I'll always have eggnog.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment