Every family, every city, every nation has its tradition for Christmas. In this case I am a hybrid, I have southern origins and Tuscan origins at the same time so for me it was not Christmas festivities but “nataliadi”. Everything started on the 24th evening, on the eve: salmon salmon with gelatin, Tuscan croutons and salty panettone, as traditionally the spaghetti with clams and from here started the classic debate between “white or red” women …! even this existential dilemma was the time of the second … dripping in wet, browned salmon, cod and scalloped pie (which I started to eat at age 11 when I learned to appreciate the capers and the bitterness of that vegetables), various vegetables in any form. After this follow-up, the pre-sweet post-dinner phase began with my grandmother’s ritual phrase “we open a gift for children” dictated more by his curiosity than by our real desire to receive it at that time. Then, while the broken-air invitees started saying “I’ve eaten too much, I’m going to explode, Rosalba you did too many things”, here comes the sweets on which all the diners, ignorant of their claims still in the air, came out as a capo . Swaddlers, wreaths, pandas, panettons, tangerines, nuts and dried fruits. I love Christmas. This is just my Christmas example, every family has its own dishes, its rituals, the phrases without which it is not Christmas, the table debates on how many capers or wine put into the dough of the liver, whether or not to go to Midnight Mass and the impatience of discarding the gift to see what your friends, relatives or comrades will be doing to give you this year.