pexels-photo-65060Every family, every city, every nation has its tradition for Christmas. Personally, 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 with gelatin, Tuscan croutons and salty panettone, as tradition commandds, spaghetti with clams and from here started the classic “white or red” debate between the women of the family! even this existential dilemma lasted just a 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 that, the pre-sweet post-dinner phase began with my grandmother’s ritual phrase “let’s have the children open the presents”, dictated more by her curiosity than by our real desire to receive it at that time. Then, while the invitees started saying “I’ve eaten too much, I’m going to explode, Rosalba you made too many things”,  the sweets arrived, on which all the people, ignoring their previous claims, literally jumped on. 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 “fegatini”, whether or not to go to Midnight Mass and the impatience of discarding the presents to see what your friends and relatives brought you this year.

 

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