Growing up, it was always tradition in my family that we have an extended feast – a banquet spanning the days before and after Christmas, as well as a formal Dinner on Christmas night.
This was a custom that was first initiated by my Irish great-grandfather William Ferguson, in the years following the Great Depression and World War II. After scrapping through the lean times, it seemed that this display of relative extravagance was something of an expression of just how far his family had come into establishing my family in this country.
In all of the successive generations, this convention has continued – albeit somewhat modified for the modern context. For example: where there was once the telling of tales and singing of songs, now there is the flickering globe of television.
Now, here am I… a grown man with my own fledgling family, somewhat estranged from those whom I am otherwise related – fashioning such traditions out of my own habits and predilections…
Chinese food for Christmas. Okay, so one event does not a venerated observance make, not to mention that any cleverness points are taken away because of the obvious pop-cultural reference to A Christmas Story and it fails to resonate with the sort of rugged individualism as Phil Johnson`s tradition of Thankgiving pizza.
However, all that aside it was indeed a nice treat to go out to eat – something we have not been able to do in quite a while. I would rather have Peking Duck and Chinese Spare Rib than a stuffed Turkey and Cranberry Sauce any day.
I enjoyed it so much that I think we might just do something similar for our next Yuletide supper – though it`s not quite the same without Christmas Carols being sung in a comical over-the-top Asian vocal inflection.