For some, tradition is a ritual or a way of doing things that has been repeated for many years, even centuries. For others, like my daughter Hanna, tradition is more spontaneous: a tradition is what you did last year and must be repeated. If we had potato salad and ham last Easter and decide to have spring lamb and asparagus this year, she would protest, “Mom, we ALWAYS have ham and potato salad for Easter!” You have to be careful about food choices and fun little rituals you may not want to become one of Hanna’s traditions.
Family food traditions and memories are especially strong around the holidays. Certain smells and flavors pull us home, remind us of childhood. They pass our culture and identity on to the next generation and bind family members as food clansmen. Our Christmas breakfast tradition is relatively new in the realm of traditions – less than a century, more than a year.
A couple of decades ago, a dear friend, realizing we worked long retail hours in December, gave us Christmas Breakfast as a gift. She sent her boys to town on Christmas Eve, with everything made and ready to heat in the oven and let them figure out how to squeeze it all into the refrigerator while we were at work.
At first, I was hesitant about the ranch-country menu, a breakfast of meatballs, baked egg and green chile casserole, and coffee cake, but it was a marvelous, memorable. breakfast that was easy to reheat and forgiving, if we got held up with Santa things.
A tradition was born, and every Christmas since, a breakfast magically appears in our refrigerator on Christmas Eve from our thoughtful friend. Over the years, Hanna would comment, “It wouldn’t be Christmas without Janet’s meatballs.”, or “For me, Christmas is all about Christmas morning and the meatballs.” As the most verbally appreciative, she was the family member elected to learn how to make the hallowed Christmas Meatballs, and Sunday was the appointed day.
Janet’s kitchen is filled with antique crockery bowls, pictures of grand kids, framed watercolors of birds’ nests, antique apple peelers, interesting pitchers, cookbooks, and whimsical old toys. A black and white Plymouth Barred-Rock hen pecks around the back porch while Janet and Hanna pour over Janet’s grandmother Gongee’s ancient recipe. The scrap of paper is truly decrepit – shiny from old scotch tape mends, some of the pencil words, written long ago in a strong script are disappearing into transparent areas from grease spots, so it is hard to read.
Country Wisdom is being passed along with meatball instructions: “Smell the ground elk meat to see if it is strong or mild, so you can adjust your seasonings” “Don’t wash eggs until you are ready to use them – they have a protective coating that keeps them fresh”. Bowl genealogy is shared: the mustard colored one is the one Janet’s grandmother always used to make rolls, the green speckled bowl is a gift from her son Todd, from a pottery studio in Mendocino.
The ingredients are measured, combined and mixed, and the contents of each of the 4 bowls is divided and recombined, swapped back and forth, so that all the mixtures are the same, and it’s time to start rolling the balls. As the counter fills with orderly lines of meatballs lined up on waxed paper, the fry pans are heated with butter and oil, and some of the meatballs are floured and put in the skillets to cook, while we roll the rest. There are a lot of meatballs – last year was skimpy, and Janet wants to be sure to have ample quantities this year.
Hanna is lightly coating meatballs in flour before they are cooked, and the window over the kitchen sink casts a Vermeer light over her face and floury hands. She is a young woman and Janet and I are entrusting her with the recipes and combined wisdom of our grandmothers, both raised on North country California ranches, to carry on the family traditions. Both of our mothers are gone, and to Hanna’s children, we will be the old people.
I should tell you right now, in case you are skimming this just to be polite, and waiting for the recipe, that I am sworn to secrecy, and you won’t find it here. Hanna says she has waited too many years to learn how to make the Christmas meatballs and doesn’t want to share the recipe just yet.
The kitchen is fragrant with herbs and browning beef, as the sunny day turns to rain in the afternoon. Batches of browned meatballs are going into the oven to finish cooking and we’re on to the topic of the egg strata. Full-flavored, and a welcome change from the sweets of Christmas, this egg and green chile puff can be completely cooked the day before and reheated on Christmas morning while you’re opening your stockings.
Mid-afternoon, the meatballs are ready to be frozen for Christmas morning, and the three of us share a little lunch and a sense of accomplishment. After sampling, Hanna says they taste even better when you help make them.
This column first appeared in The Enterprise Record in December 2010. Thirteen years later, the Christmas Morning Meatball tradition continues, and you’ll have to try to get the recipe out of Hanna. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Christmas Morning Chile Egg Puff
10 eggs
1/2 cup all-purpose flour, sifted
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups small curd cottage cheese – regular not nonfat or low fat
1 pound grated mild monterey jack cheese
1/2 cup melted butter
1 can diced mild green chiles.
Preheat oven to 350° F. Butter a 9”X13” baking dish.
Crack the eggs into a large bowl and beat thoroughly. Stir and toss together the flour, baking powder and salt, sift them over the eggs and beat until blended. Beat in the cottage cheese, grated Monterey Jack cheese, butter and chilies. Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and cake for 35 – 45 minutes, or until puffy and set, and a knife inserted slightly off-center comes out clean. Serves 10.
The savory, well spiced meatballs and gravy, and chili-egg casserole are complimented by a bundt-style coffee cake that also reheats well. Serve with butter and homemade pomegranate jelly.
Sour Cream-Streusel Coffee Cake
Ingredients
1 1/4 cups coarsely chopped walnuts
1 1/4 cups (packed) golden brown sugar
4 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
6 tablespoons dried currants
3 cups cake flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/2 cups sugar
3 large eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 16-ounce container sour cream
1 cup powdered sugar
1 tablespoon milk
Preparation
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter 12-cup Bundt pan. Mix first 5 ingredients in small bowl. Set nut mixture aside. Sift flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt into medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat butter and 1 1/2 cups sugar in large bowl until blended. Beat in eggs 1 at a time. Mix in vanilla. Mix dry ingredients and sour cream alternately into butter mixture in 3 additions. Beat batter on high 1 minute.
Pour 1/3 of batter into prepared pan. Sprinkle with half of nut mixture. Spoon 1/3 of batter over. Sprinkle with remaining nut mixture. Spoon remaining batter over.
Bake cake until tester inserted near center comes out clean, about 1 hour. Cool cake in pan on rack 10 minutes. Cut around pan sides to loosen cake. Turn cake out onto rack and cool 1 hour. Transfer to platter.
Whisk powdered sugar and milk in small bowl until smooth. Drizzle over coffee cake. Serve slightly warm or at room temperature. (Can be prepared 1 day ahead. Cool completely. Wrap in foil and let stand at room temperature.) Serves 8-10
