When the Eve is the Main Event

There are a few events I look forward to each year, and there's no doubt that Christmas Eve is at the top of the list.   It's probably no surprise to you that I'd describe it as a food and wine extravaganza.   Add the family and traditions that have seemingly been a part of our Christmas Eve since Italians starting simmering garlic in olive oil, it's such a fantastic night for me that it makes Christmas Day seem like a bit of an afterthought.   (I did not feel this way while I was growing up and waiting for Santa to come the next morning, of course.)

Here are some of this year's highlights.   

Before we get too far into this, you need to know that we follow the Italian tradition of eating only fish on Christmas Eve.  We are not hard core seven fish traditionalists, though I would bet that we do have seven varieties over the course of the night each year.   We are pretty consistent about sticking to the fish tradition, which I've come to enjoy, as it's a challenge to keep the main courses interesting each year.  Well, there was the time that Uncle Beef decided to randomly serve braised beef as a main course, in a controversial maneuver that shocked and appalled everyone over the age of forty.   We don't talk about that often.  (OK, we do.  It was pretty funny).   

The other element that never changes is the pasta course, which is the classic Alio Olio recipe that I've discussed on this site before - simply olive oil, garlic, peperoncino, parsley, parmiginano reggiano and a thin cappellini-like pasta (thicker than angel hair, thinner than spaghetti).   It's a classic dish that I end up craving from time to time, mainly because it reminds me of being a kid on Christmas Eve.    Uncle Beef, in the midst of a few " cool down beers" one year,  added diced pancetta to the pasta that led to raised eyebrows and hidden sighs of pleasure.    While I have been fending off such renegade behavior over the years (such as an unfortunate capers episode and the threat of a sardines), I was greeted this year with a plethora of pancetta and a craving for a return to the renegade pancetta behavior of the past.   I don't fight pork fat - I only crisp it with serve it with a smile on my face.   

Before the pasta course, we had a fantastic mussel soup - possibly my most satisfying bites of this year's dinner.    Judy made a great crab stock, which was added to a base of garlic, ginger, onion, peperoncino and fire roasted canned tomatoes.   After the soup simmers for a while, the mussels and a nugget of butter is added right before serving.   The mussels add their juices to the broth, while the nugget of butter balances out the acidic qualities of the tomato.  A last minute handful of tarragon brought it all together.  (Note:  I was too busy to take a picture of this dish, so the photo is from Judy's mussels from '06.  The version I discuss above was soupier than the picture.  That's for those family members keeping  track of such detail...all two of you.)

The other enduring tradition for our Christmas Eve is wine.    Only recently did the wine quality take off to another level, though I believe the quantity consumed has maintained a fairly consistent level best described as...hmmm....generously foolish.   This year's highlight for me was the 1998 Chateau Angelus Grand Cru Bordeaux from St. Emilion.    I had been holding onto this wine for a while and was happy I brought it, but I had meant to bring a Chateauneuf but grabbed the wrong bottle while rushing out the door.   I didn't realize until we got there that I had brought the Bordeaux, thus embarrassing myself continuously by mentioning Chateauneuf throughout the evening.    Good thing I can cook, eh? Well, at least I could appreciate the amazing, herbacious nose of the Bordeux and the long earthy finish.   

Finally, the main course this year happened to be outrageous.   Judy made a whole salmon stuffed with kashi which was moist and delicious.   The other main was based on a post I had written a long time ago - essentially a recreation of an unbelievable cod dish I had a few years ago at a restaurant called BLT FISH.    The cod is marinated in soy, white vinegar and acacia honey, then broiled and roasted.   The exterior crust is a caramel colored golden brown, while the sauce is salty, sweet and rich.  It's so good that I had to fight off this random Jewish dude who keeps showing up to Christmas Eve dinner, or I think he may have chugged it straight from the pot.

Since I take pride in not following recipes and find the  Food Network only vaguely satisfying, a few people found the fact that this dish came from a recipe and from foodnetwork.com a bit humorous.     Chef Laurent Tourandel, the genius who created this recipe, must have made this dish on a Food Network episode, as googled the dish up popped his recipe on the Food Network.  So, in a nod to my duplicitous actions, I offer you the Chef Tourandel's recipe, courtesy of the Food Network - and take zero credit for the idea.   Make this cod - it's a show stopper.

(NOTE:  Missing from the list of Christmas Eve traditions are the fried smelts.  I would describe them for you, but writing about them makes my stomach turn.  Nothing like gagging on little bones and fishy meat...mmmm.)