NEWS

 

We call this Solstice time of year, Weinukah… a word given to us by a German refugee from WWII and a family friend. It means Christmas and Hanukkah as a combined holiday. You can see from the attached photo… our holiday wreath, decorated with Jewish stars and snowflakes. And our Dreidel windsock. And of course our perennial Peace Sign, appropriate for all times.

 

In non-COVID times, we have a holiday party serving Latkes with sour cream, apple sauce and salsa (a California adaptation) and Swedish Rice pudding in honor of my wife’s family’s heritage. A true carbo load.  Folks bring their own fry pans and menorahs and fry to their heart’s—and stomach’s—content. When spooning the rice pudding, each person is asked to make up and recite a simple poem, e.g. “In the candles flames, I see the happy faces of family.” Then we light the menorahs and advent candles, Swedish Christmas candles and the kids—and some adults—play dreidel with pennies provided by us for the gambling.  The great strength of our stew pot culture, celebrating all traditions makes us stronger.

 

Bridgette Ramirez, Senior Editorial & Marketing Coordinator

My mom’s side of the family plays a bunch of games. We’ll pass around unmarked gift boxes like hot potato, and whoever it lands on opens the box to reveal a ridiculous hat, mask, wig, etc. that they have to wear. I’ll never forget seeing my grandma in a Hannah Montana wig. My dad’s sister’s birthday is on Christmas Eve, so we usually go over to her house to make her a birthday breakfast with French toast, bacon, and all the classics.  (This year, dad is shipping her French toast cereal… don’t spoil the surprise!)

Obviously this year requires social distancing, but we’ve still found fun things to do. My cousins and I arranged a Christmas Movie March Madness game, with us voting on a round of brackets every week leading up to the best Christmas movie according to our family. It’s a real nail biter so far!

Susan Angelo, Resident Artist

As a child, Christmas Eve was the yearly big celebration at my Italian grandmother’s house, which was connected to the bar she owned and ran (Angelo’s Pine Room!)… It was a huge space to run around in; pool table; juke box; and a tradition of eating spaghetti and fried oysters.  I had a lot of first cousins, and we would dance and sing and each get to open one present that night.  The anticipation as so exciting. So this year… this very odd year…. for the first time in decades, all the cousins are getting together again, via zoom!  We won’t run around the pool table, but we will certainly recall those good memories.  As I continue to look for the gift in this difficult time,  reuniting with cousins is one! Happy Holidays!

 

Deborah Strang, Subscriber Services Manager & Resident Artist

Trisha Miller, Resident Artist

This is not a childhood holiday tradition, but one my partner Tom and I have embraced since becoming parents, as a way to start our own little family tradition while connecting with our history. We grew up in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, home to a large Scandanavian population. My family’s roots are in Norway, and our new tradition is baking Norweigan krumkake cookies during the holidays. They are similar to Italian pizzelle cookies–you pour a batter into a thin, embossed waffle iron—but krumkake cookies are then rolled around a wooden cone. They are delicious and simple, flavored with vanilla and cardamom, and something the three of us enjoy making and eating together. 

Jonathan Muñoz-Proulx, Director of Cultural Programming

When there’s not a global pandemic, I spend Christmas with A LOT of family.

My parents, sister and I usually go a relative’s house (where family from all over are packed into one living room), and the counter is lined with beef and chicken tamales (YUM), and sometimes even chili con carne. 

Oh, and there’s ALWAYS pan dulce and my Nana’s famous walnut fudge. 

When I was a kid, we would all gather at my grandparents’ house for the holidays. The living room would be filled with folding tables and folding chairs to accommodate the huge, annual family dinner. There seemed to be a different tray of walnut fudge on every surface… What I remember most though, was the long fireplace mantle with a fuzzy red stocking hanging down for each one of us grandchildren—there were a LOT of us. Each stocking hung above a large metal fireplace gate with an ornate “M” welded onto it… for “Muñoz.”

After presents, all the folding tables and chairs would be put away for next year, clearing the large, brown, carpeted living room for the kids to roll out our sleeping bags for the night—a sea of brightly colored nylon reserved for sleepovers and Christmas Eve.

This year is very different. 

All my grandparents have passed. Others are no longer with us. The rest of our family will be in their separate corners of the coast. It’s just four of us—Mom, Dad, and sister.

Gifts are anything that can be safely shipped to our front door and wiped down with Clorox.

Every year when I ask my Dad what he wants for Christmas and he says: “Peace on Earth,” and I roll my eyes and laugh. But this year I hear him.  

Then he always adds: “And socks.” – so not much has changed, I guess.

Wishing you all a very special holiday. And Peace on Earth. ?