“When are we coming over for the Feast of the Seven Fishes?”
It wasn’t really a serious question. It was my good friend Bob reminding me that it’s time to start cooking for Christmas, and probably a subtle hint that a pot of my homemade sauce and meatballs would be an appropriate Christmas gift. (You got it, Bob!)

The Feast of the Seven Fishes is an Italian tradition deeply rooted in the Catholic Church, which originally made December 24 a day of fast and abstinence. Fish, because no meat was allowed, and also because in poor, coastal southern Italy and Sicily, seafood was abundant and cheap. So what do Italians do after a fast is lifted? Eat! And then eat some more.
In Italy – and in our family – the huge holiday meal was never known as the Feast of the Seven Fishes. That’s a fairly recent American label. It was simply Christmas Eve dinner, the “real” family Christmas that we eagerly anticipated all year.
Like many immigrant families in the 1950s, and maybe yours, our family aspired to fully integrate into American society. That’s why our hours-long Christmas Eve custom incorporated both Old World and New World traditions. The first half was Italian – capellini (angel hair pasta), meatballs, sausage, melanzane (eggplant) plus various holiday specialties including stuffed calamari (squid), baccala (codfish), scricciolo (shrimp), and calamari salad. That was followed by a huge American holiday meal – ham, turkey, and all the sides. Finally, holiday pies, fruit, nuts, and Italian cookies for dessert.

It’s difficult, though, for Old World traditions to survive modern American culture. As the generations passed, the taste for the old seafood recipes (eww, squid!) disappeared, and we didn’t need turkey or ham to be “real” Americans. Ironically, the Church – which helped create the tradition in the first place – was instrumental in moving our family’s Christmas Eve dinner away from Christmas Eve.
After joining the music ministry at St. Joseph’s Church, we switched our usual Christmas Day liturgy to Midnight Mass. Let’s face it, singing on a full stomach can be dangerous! That means our annual Italian dinner is now on the 22nd or 23rd instead of Christmas Eve.
Several years ago, while feeling hugely nostalgic for “Christmas Eve past” of grandparents, parents, sister, aunts, uncles, and cousins, I asked my daughter Kris about the favorite Christmas memory of her childhood. She looked at me like I was crazy and answered, “Midnight Mass, of course!”
Some traditions deserve to remain unchanged.

cousin Paul after Christmas Eve dinner 1961.
Ultimately, though, all family traditions have less to do with food than with fellowship. It’s people – our families and friends – who define the dearest traditions of our hearts. For me, that Sicilian stuffed squid was a lot less important than getting elbowed by my left-handed Uncle Leo as we both fought to get to the platter first. Undoubtedly, you have an “Uncle Leo” holiday story from your family, too.
This year will be Mom’s 99th Christmas. We will all value her presence dearly, as we will cherish this holiday season with all of our relatives and friends, just as you will. For that love is the foundation of tradition for all of our families.
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Great traditions. Treasure this Christmas with mom and give her a hug from me.
Have a Blessed Christmas celebration.
Love, Sheila
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I’m late reading this. Stuffed squid!? Yikes! Merry Christmas and happy New Year to you and yours. This makes me remember my own crazy Italian holidays of my youth. Oh how I cherish the memories.
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