Memories of Christmas through food
Food and memory have an uncanny connection. And this becomes more apparent when we celebrate the holidays. I am sure many of our readers associate a certain food with a person, family, or experience, and this truly comes to life during the holidays.
A season of delicious food
As Filipinos, Christmas time is a season of delicious food that we celebrate from the start of the “ber” months, all the way up to the New Year. Some of my earliest memories involve the smell of food at my grandmother’s house, where we would gather at the table to eat my favorite morcon (a Filipino-style braised beef roulade), which she would make.
When my grandparents moved to Sydney, I would still ask my grandmother to make morcon for me every single time we would visit, because I missed it so much.
In my mind, my grandmother’s house always smelled like food—it was sweet, warm, and saucy; it reflected the feelings I associate with her house, full of love and comfort. Even in Sydney, she would venture off to the Vietnamese part of town to get the butcher to cut the morcon just right, and have my grandfather string it up when she was done rolling it.
It truly was a labor of love.
Keeping the tradition alive
My parents, on the other hand, love ham and processed pork in all shapes and forms: prosciutto, Parma ham, salami in all its variations, and of course, chorizo. They will tell you that they eat healthy and only like fish, chicken, and lots of salads. But put a plate of ham or chorizo in front of them, and all bets are off. They also maintain that they don’t eat pork (because apparently, ham and chorizo aren’t pork).
It’s why my husband always tells people that my family is obsessed with processed meats (he’s not wrong).
As far back as I can remember, my mom and dad ate ham with melon when we would travel. My first bite of Parma ham and melon was on a trip to Rome when I was three years old, and I would ask my parents to get it for me when we got back home.
When my sister and I traveled to Rome with my dad when I was around 11 years old, the first thing we did was find a deli where he bought different kinds of ham and olives, bread, and cheese. We took it back to the hotel, where he asked room service for cutlery and glasses, and we unpacked our feast from the paper bags.
This is how we ate for three days because he said this was the best way to enjoy Roman food—and he was right. We were never the fancy food type of family, growing up, just real honest food.
Our family Christmas menu
In my parents’ house, Majestic ham was the food for the holiday season. My yaya would fry it up with sugar for us and serve it with white rice for December morning breakfasts. The combination of ham, queso de bola, and chocolate has been on my mom’s Christmas menu for as long as I can remember.
But on some years, she would make a fish dish that she would work so hard on. It was a whole fish with five different colored toppings on top in the shape of strips, so that the fish looked like it was covered in a rainbow of colors. The toppings were red, green, yellow, white, and black—using black olives to achieve the look. This dish would remain largely untouched because everyone ate the ham. When I became a mom myself, I started to feel bad when no one ate the pretty fish because I understood how hard my mom worked on it… so I’d eat a little bit of it.
In my own home, my kids associate the holidays with turkey, which I started to make when I got married, as my husband, who grew up in the US, always celebrates it. Even my own children expect me to make a turkey for Thanksgiving. In England, where I went to university, they celebrate Christmas with a turkey. I tried to do this for my family a few times, but it was ignored because of the ham.
It’s really fascinating how we associate a “true” memory of certain holidays with food.
Tri-color fish
When I think back on a special dish that I want to share with the readers, I go back to my mom’s fish. Perhaps because I feel the fish deserves more attention than it got in a house full of ham, and because I know it deserves to be recognized for the effort my mom put in.
I’ve also simplified the recipe—mostly because I chose the toppings my kids will definitely eat. I’ve used Pacific Bay’s coho salmon fillet, as it is the perfect thickness for the dish, and you can never really go wrong with it.
Ingredients
1 Pacific bay coho salmon fillet
Toppings
Red:
3 red tomatoes
2 Tbsp crushed tomatoes or tomato sauce
Salt and pepper, to taste
Green:
1/4 cup pitted green olives
2 Tbsp capers
Salt and pepper, to taste
White:
2 whole eggs, diced
1 tsp mustard
1 tsp fresh dill
Procedure
1. Combine the ingredients that make up each color in separate bowls. Set aside.
2. Lay a baking sheet out and place the salmon, skin side down. Season with salt and pepper and drizzle with olive oil.
3. Bake at 250 degrees Celsius for 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool for 10 minutes.
4. Carefully spoon on each topping, creating “stripes” with each color. If your fillet is bigger, you can repeat the pattern. This dish can be served cold.
