Christmas dinner is one of the more interesting cultural questions I’ve explored on this blog. Unlike Thanksgiving, which got a clear menu from its propagandists, Christmas is more of a free-for-all. Yes, Dickens would have us all eating goose and figgy pudding, but those dishes never really crystallized as part of the picture, at least not in the US.
The main dish has always, as far as I can tell, been in dispute. Goose became too expensive, so it went to turkey. But in the US, turkey was out of the question because Thanksgiving was so sternly insistent on itself. Folks often brought their cultural backgrounds into the meal more than any other time of year because it was a guarantee everyone was at the table.
Wesley sent me a link to this article about American Jews enjoying Chinese food at Christmastime. It’s easy to forget that what many people eat this time of year is restaurant food. And what they choose is often influenced first by what’s open and second by what places make them feel comfortable.
When the meal happens is also a question. Christmas Eve for many families is pizza and wings while Christmas Day is a dressier affair. Other families switch that or opt for brunch. Large families may have a dozen Christmas dinners while some may be lucky to scrounge up one.
For my family, Christmas dinner has never been a big priority. We fit it in when a date works for everyone’s schedule. This year, it looks like we’re skipping a formal meal, though we had a pretty solid Christmas Eve Eve brunch. Our Christmas food has ranged from pizza or hoagie bars to gigantic bone-in hams and, yes, turkey (which everyone agreed they had no stomach for so soon after Thanksgiving – now, we generally leave this for Easter.)
My own experience as a generic white person without strong religious convictions growing up in the middle of nowhere Eastern Kentucky pretty much meant that Christmas was a “build it yourself” affair. Yes, my grade school put on a yearly Christmas pageant and my non-denominational church did a nativity play, but never ON Christmas. My family was scattered (or not in contact) enough that there was no big meal we felt obligated to attend.
It was similar for my friends. Some had families where everyone would be at Christmas dinner, full stop. Some did massive Christmas morning gift-swaps. Some went to Midnight Mass then rousted themselves for a late brunch. No one had any big cultural direction to point their meals, so they ate ham or turkey or prime rib or chipped beef. Many ate whatever their dads took home as a Christmas bonus (I’m among that number). Others did loosey-goosey appetizer buffet affairs. The Chinese restaurants around me were generally closed on Christmas growing up, otherwise I know it would’ve been an option for a lot of folks (my grandmother’s church often did their Secret Santa there.)
But really, the food was beside the point. Everyone shared a meal because they were marking a moment. For families that could get together, it was joyous or stressful or chaotic or fulfilling. For singletons, it was mopey or quiet or “haha look at those suckers” schadenfreude. For cobbled-together framilies, it was a time to make the best of it… and all those desserts surely helped.