There is an old Welsh poem that talks of the time between Halloween and Winter Solstice at the “time between the worlds”  It is a time when the veil between this realm and the other realm is at its thinnest and those who pass through during this time – be it birth or death – are closest to their karma.

This beautiful ancient poem has haunted my life.  You see, it is within this time between the worlds when I was born, years later when my father died and years later still when I lost my grandmother.

This year, my great aunt Lisel passed away on the winter solstice.  She was the last of my Grandmother’s era.  With her, a lifetime of people, family traditions and collective family memories passed as well.  Her death and funeral were less than a day apart, in Florida, so I was not able to attend. 

Disheartened at my inability to make it to her funeral, I decided to make the one recipe of hers that I had and bring it to my cousin Barry this weekend: Aunt Lisel’s Hazelnut Cake. 

Lisel always made the cake filled with a vanilla custard/whipped cream mixture and sprinkled the top with whole hazelnuts and powdered sugar.  I took a different approach.  I filled the center of the cake with Nutella and iced the cake with a whipped cream made with a touch of Grand Marnier.

I think my making and bringing this cake surprised Barry as he told me, “I haven’t had this cake in at least 20 years.  It tastes just like hers.”

I was glad that my food could bring him back in time, even for just a moment.  It felt healing (for both of us).

This unexpected death took a toll on us for the holidays.  Growing up Jewish, we never celebrated Christmas.  My father would not hear of it.  I always felt like I was missing something special.  So, once I was old enough and I moved out of my parents house, I went Christmas crazy.  My ex-fiancée used to laugh at my childlike joy when it came to Christmas.  We would put up a tree and decorate.  After we split, I created my own Christmas traditions, inviting my cousins and my brother, throwing extravagant parties for my friends and generally soaking in the season.

After my grandmother passed away five years ago, I stopped celebrating.  I would put up the tree and make dinner, but nothing fancy or special.  This year, I decided to cook Christmas eve dinner – not like the Italian feasts of my childhood friends – but a warm, hearty meal that would tide us through Christmas day.

I left work yesterday fighting a horrendous cold, the kind of cold that makes your bones ache and your whole body hurt.  I came home to what felt like a cold house and immediately started a fire in the woodstove.

My cousin Michele and my brother came over last night for Christmas eve dinner, which began with rum and eggnog along with a cheese plate consisting of:

• Fromage des Clarins
• Alsatian washed rind brie
• Truffled brie
• A log roll of mozzarella and prosciutto de parma
• Sliced sweet sopresatta
• Green olives stuffed with provolone cheese

Michele arrived first and we nibbled away at the cheese plate until my brother showed up.  He took my place nibbling at the meats and cheeses while I finished dinner.

I prepared a prime rib roast. Exposure to the 500-degree heat at the beginning of the cooking process created a delicious crust around the outside of the meat, (I drop the heat back down to 350 after the first 20 min.) while the inside was a perfect, tender medium. 

To accompany the roast, I made mashed potatoes.  I began by boiling Yukon gold potatoes, draining and returning them to the pan to eliminate any residual water.  While they boiled, I warmed heavy cream, butter and cream cheese in a ceramic bowl.  I pushed the potatoes through a ricer into the warmed cream mixture, seasoned with salt and pepper and came out with perfectly delicious mashed potatoes (thank you Andre!).

Adding a splash of green, I blanched some green beans in boiling water, just long enough to retain some crunch to them and then shocked them in an ice bath.  I then took slivered almonds and toasted them in a dry pan –removing them form the pan and adding butter and oil to the skillet and allowing it to get very hot.  I quickly sautéed the garlic, adding minced ginger, soy sauce and the string beans together.  Then I removed them from the heat and tossed the almonds in with the beans.

For the gravy, I reconstituted some wild mushrooms and some morels in a mushroom broth and strained the liquid for stock.  I reduced the pan drippings in red wine.  I made a slurry with arrowroot and stock and added it to the wine reduction, thickening and reducing until an earthy gravy developed.

We drank a mediocre, overly tannic, unbalanced Syrah that no one liked (from Cali) and
watched the beginnings of My Fair Lady on DVD before indulging in dessert.

Everyone exchanged gifts while indulging in Canollis with chocolate chips, strufoli, and Italian bakery cookies. We all munched happily away until the wee hours, when we fell asleep.

This morning, everyone woke up to a breakfast of Pannetone French toast.  If you have never had it, Pannetone is a delicious Italian Christmas bread/cake with a wonderful orange flavor and dried fruit.  It makes the best French toast on earth.  I included a drop of rum to our egg batter before frying it – which added a layer of decadence deserving of a Christmas morning breakfast.

We spend out day talking, listening to music, watching movies and eating.  Even with the loss of our Great Aunt – or perhaps because of it – we all truly appreciated spending this holiday in love and comfort with good food, good music and family.

I wish all of you, my dear readers, much love and happiness this holiday season.

And now, I am going on a serious diet!