There are ten million essays out there helping us understand what Christmas is (and I’ve written about three million of them myself). And it’s no wonder: The event of Christmas is something so huge and so profound, not even the most open mind can fully comprehend it. There’s always something more to say.
Nevertheless, this year I’d like to go in a different direction and talk, instead, about what Christmas isn’t.
It’s not a stick to beat pagans and atheists over the head with. Here in the states, we love to grumble about the “war on Christmas.”
Occasionally this means some local ordinance bans setting up a nativity scene on the town commons; but more often it means you go out to buy some batteries and ornament hooks, and the cashier said “Happy holidays” when they gave you your receipt, so you thundered back, “Merry CHRISTMAS” using your special scary St. Boniface voice.
Don’t do that. You’ll wake up baby Jesus, and he just barely went down for his nap. If Christmas is as great as we say it is, then surely it gives us the room to be decent to each other in its name.
How do we keep our celebration of Christmas from getting too materialistic?
I have bad news: If it is this point in the year and you are just now worrying about it, it’s probably too late. The way we celebrate Christmas tends to reflect the way we live in general.
If you and your family are constantly thinking about shopping and upgrading and keeping up with TikTok influencers, then Christmas will be the same, just with more jingle bells. If you and your family rarely think of people in need, and then you suddenly decide halfway through December to throw some money at a toy drive or a food pantry, then it will feel artificial and performative because it is. If Mass and other religious practices are something you grudgingly fit into your ordinary life if you have time and are in the mood, then that is how the Nativity of the Lord will be.
We are more consistent than we realize. Your Christmas will look the way you have decided to live. So, if you are materialistic all year long, then yes, your Christmas will almost certainly be materialistic. Sorry!
But I did say “almost certainly.” The reason is this: I know very few self-identifying Catholics who really celebrate Christmas in the hyper-materialistic way I described above. I read about such things online—kids flipping out because their new Audi isn’t the color they wanted or wives refusing to come out of their rooms because last year’s diamond was bigger—but in real life, all the people I know who are worried about materialism swallowing up Christmas really just mean: “Presents are a big part of Christmas at our house, and that makes me feel weird.”
Don’t feel weird. It’s O.K. Presents are nice, and they are a normal and morally neutral way to express love to each other (and sometimes, a way to keep the peace in the family, and that’s not necessarily wrong either). Just because money has changed hands and wrapping paper is involved, that doesn’t mean you have violated the spirit of the Incarnation.
What I used to tell my kids, back when they listened to me, was that Christmas is baby Jesus’ birthday, and the only present he wants from us is for us to be good to one another. But there is no reason that being good to one another cannot take the form, in part, of buying or making presents. That is part of incarnational living: Expressing love through physical means. Buying or making a thoughtful, meaningful gift that you can reasonably expect to bring happiness to someone else is a far holier thing than dourly insisting that our Lord and savior is sick and tired of all this merriness.
We do need to remember the poor (on Christmas, and every day), and we do need to worship the Lord (on Christmas and every day), and we do need to be good to each other in intangible ways (on Christmas, and every day). It is also perfectly fine to mark the season by having fancy cookies and buying electronics for one another. It is a big holiday. There is room for a lot of different ways to celebrate.
If you’re a regular reader, you know I’m not going to tell you what trending decor you need to buy to make your house look both WOW and NOW for Christmas this year. I’m not going to tell you what you absolutely need to pull piping hot from the oven while wearing themed oven mitts in order to make your children’s life magical rather than tragical. And I’m not going to give you any tips for sculpting your bod so as to show up at the office party looking like that baddie everyone’s . . . mogging on. Mogging about?
I’m old, I don’t know what I’m talking about.
I do dearly love giving advice, though. So as it is Giving Tuesday, here is my best, most practical advice for how to have a pretty good December. (Some of this is geared toward big, chaotic families and Catholics, but not all.)
1. If you’re planning to give money to someone who needs financial help, do it ASAP. A splashy last-minute miracle is nice to get, but what’s really nice when you’re poor is knowing that certain things — a present, a Christmas meal, or the electric bill — will be covered.
2. If you live on the dark side of the Mason-Dixon line, start taking Vitamin D gummies every day, and keep it up until Spring. It may not make a dramatic difference, but it may help you feel a little more energetic and less sad as the darkness grows. Gummies are more expensive than pills, but I’m far more likely to remember to take gummies because I am a big baby.
3. For the storage-poor among us who buy a mountain of presents: Clear a corner of the house now, for storing the landslide of Amazon boxes we are about to receive. If you have to, stash your regular clutter in a trash bag and deal with it later. I’m not a spreadsheet person, so I keep a running email in my drafts folder to keep track of what I have ordered, where I ordered it from, and what has actually arrived. Or you could tape a piece of paper to the wall, and attach a pen to it with a string, and really commit to keeping it current. Just do something other than stashing things here and there and keeping a running tally in your head, for that is the path to heartache and lost presents and horrible last-minute trips to Target.
4. If you just had a baby or you’re sick, you don’t have to travel to anyone else’s house. You just don’t. It’s a normal, human, reasonable thing to say, “Oh, sorry, we can’t do that” and just keep saying it, and following through. Let your [insert irrational relative] be mad! What are they gonna do, arrest you? If you’re the husband/dad, it is YOUR JOB TO STICK UP FOR YOUR WIFE LIKE JOSEPH DID FOR MARY. Protect her and defend her and ask her what you can do so she can put her feet up at least a little bit on Christmas, and really do it, even if you don’t get why she cares about it. Your wife is more important that your [insert irrational relative].
5. If you’re feeling overwhelmed about all the Important Traditions you have accrued, ask the people you’re in charge of which ones they actually care deeply about, and see if there’s anything you can weed out. You may be surprised. But also ask yourself which ones you care about, because your preferences also matter! But also, consider delegating responsibilities — and then preparing yourself to be okay with results that are not exactly how you would have done it. In any case, a group conversation about expectations ahead of time in a calm, neutral way is almost always helpful for managing anxiety and overwhelm about big plans.
6. If you’re using NFP, get ready to see your weirdest chart ever in December. Stress and a poor diet and lack of sleep will do that. I have no further advice; I’m just telling you you’re not alone.
7. Consider doing screen-free hours for Advent if you can. This year, we are doing screen-free evenings from 7-10:00, Monday to Thursday; and then Fridays are for family movies (and weekends are whatever). This routine really tamps down Christmas frenzy and gives us time we didn’t realize we had, to do nice things like read books, pray as a family, listen to music, do crafts, or just sit around and yack; and it helps some of us sleep better.
8. If you have little kids who will be getting dressed up, sort out tights and dress shoes now, and put them away. Also maybe write on your calendar on Dec. 24 where you put them away. So many, many things will be going on right before Christmas, and shoes and tights are always the first casualties. If you care about what your older kids are going to wear, have them pick an outfit and show it to you well in advance. Consider not caring, though.
9. Christmas light timers are actually pretty cheap, and they are so worth it. Time and energy spent trying to make yourself get up and turn on the lights, or get up and turn off the lights, is time and energy you cannot spare. Buy the automatic timer.
10. Buy more scissors and more tape now, and hide them. But don’t hide them so cleverly you can’t find them. And buy batteries!
11. If you’re going to take pictures at Mass of everyone in their nice Christmas clothes, and you want them to look even minimally cheerful and alert, take pictures before Mass, not after. Not only will there be less dishevelment and sulky expressions, your conscience will be more likely to allow you to say things like “You’re going to smile in a normal way in the next three minutes, or you’re going to meet a helicopter of fists” before Mass than it will after you’ve received the Body of Christ.
Alternatively, just lean in to the whole Terrible Family Photo thing. You are who you are, so why struggle? Think of it as doing society a favor, so other people don’t feel like they have to live up to a photoshopped, studio-quality life.
12. If you’re going to Midnight Mass with kids, wear thick poofy jackets even if it’s not cold. This is more decorous than sleeping bags, but it serves the same purpose.
13. Build the thing ahead of time. That Barbie Dream House is going to take longer than you think to put together. Consider setting captives free before you wrap them, by which I mean cutting the 496 little plastic loops keeping toys in place in their packaging. Kids want to play with their new stuff right away, and there’s nothing more stressful than trying to make that happen while they shout at you.
14. Get to confession during Advent. Just do it! Do a lame, half-hearted, grumpy confession if that’s the best you can muster, and let Jesus do the rest. Then, whatever else is going on, you’ll be able to say, “oh, but we got to confession, yay!”
15. Disposable goods are your friend. Think about Christmas breakfast. Think about the stickiness. The crumbs. The spilled drinks with pine needles in them. Christmas is a really great time to use at least disposable tablecloths, even if you’re not a disposable tablecloth kind of person normally.
Relatedly: A little eggnog goes a long way. Consider buying little shot glass-sized Solo cups to encourage more digestible portions.
16. If you don’t use reusable wrapping (we don’t, because I think tearing open presents is fun), make sure trash bags are on your final shopping list. Then when you’re opening presents, have one person be designated to grab the wrapping paper, give it a thorough shake to dislodge any Barbie shoes or instruction booklets or teeny little allen wrenches, and throw it away right away.
17. This sounds dumb, but have a plan for the day after Christmas. Even the most spiritually attuned family feels a sad little let-down after a highly anticipated event, so it’s a great idea to establish some kind of relaxing “day after” tradition — something easy to achieve, like watching a movie or listening to a certain album. Traditions are very powerful for making people feel secure and cared-for, and the predictability almost matters more than what it actually is.
IN CONCLUSION! Do as much as you can ahead of time, try not to be too hard on yourself, and get to confession. Happy Advent!
Happy Friday! It has been AGES since I’ve done a What’s For Supper. Sorry! First it was the day after Thanksgiving, and I just couldn’t bear to talk about food; then the next Friday I had hernia surgery so I wrote myself a doctor’s note to skip it; and then it was a week after surgery, and I hadn’t cooked anything, so didn’t have anything to say; and now it is two weeks after, and I have been so successful at allowing myself to rest and recover, I have sadly forgotten how to do that wording thing. The writing. Not to mention the cooking.
HOWEVER, it is Friday! Happy Friday from behind a pile of Amazon and Etsy boxes. I ordered almost everything online this year (frequently reminding the children that, as they open their presents, they should keep in mind that, while their mother was shopping, she went through a whole bottle of opioids). Last night, Damien and I unboxed everything and checked it against my list.
Result: I only seem to have ordered one present twice, and accidentally thrown away a different one. This is pretty good, considering the volume! So I reordered the lost one with priority shipping and a pleading note to the seller, and Damien is going out this afternoon and filling in the gaps (because once we saw everything all piled up, it became evident that — oh, you know. We needed to rectify certain inequities. He is also buying presents for the dog and the cat, who will absolutely notice and be very hurt if they don’t get presents. And yes, he ordered special Christmas treat worms for the turtle, who will not notice if he doesn’t get a treat, but we still feel that the Incarnation is for turtles, too, in some way. Anyway, he’s getting worms.
Sophia put up the Christmas lights inside and out, Elijah did the grocery shopping, and the older kids took turns picking kids up from school, and everyone has been cooking and cleaning and keeping the household ticking along very nicely while I just lolled. And truly, just as important and doing all the huge amount of work he did, Damien has also been tirelessly reminding me that I have to rest and I’m not being lazy or making a big deal out of nothing, and that nobody is mad at me for recuperating. I only needed to hear it 46,000 times. Maybe a couple more.
So I mostly just lurked about and showed up for meals that other people made. One such meal was Benny’s birthday, and she requested Damien’s magnificent lasagna from the Deadspin recipe
and a “dirt and worms” dessert, which she made herself, for her actual birthday. Then next week we had her party with friends, which featured a fire and hot chocolate bar outside, lots of giggling, and a parakeet cake.
I did look up tutorials on how to make parakeets out of gum paste, and then Benny and I made some very serviceable parakeet shapes, with their beady little eyes and weird little lumpy beaks and puffy necks and everything. Then we started decorating them with melted candy melts, and this is where things went a little off the rails.
Still clearly parakeets, but with a little dash of “you poor dear, what happened?”
I also decided it would be fun and easy to do one of those moves where you melt chocolate and use a piping bag to swirl it around on an acetate cake collar, and then just wrap it around the cake and peel the collar away, and voila, you have
look, first you downgrade your mental image from an airy filigreed bird cage encircling the two birds, to a just sort of fancy maybe sort of bramble-like backdrop design. Then you walk away for a little bit, take some deep breaths, face reality, and get to work salvaging all the bits that broke off, and sticking them into the cake randomly so it looks like a couple of parakeets are . . . I don’t know what they’re doing. They’re being on a cake, with things sticking out. Benny made a bunch of green hearts and added sprinkles and she was happy, which is what matters. We had fun making weird birds together.
The next day was my birthday, my FIFTIETH, when it turned out my heart’s desire was for Damien to bring home McDonald’s. Most of the adult kids came over, and Clara made some lovely key lime pies, and it was absolutely swell.
The last couple of days, I have been actually hoisting myself out of bed in the morning, and even cooking a bit. Yesterday we had pork spiedies
which were a little bland, but fine. While I was hacking up pork, I went ahead and made a second dinner: Carnitas and beans and rice. Looks promising.
I wrapped that up and we’ll have it on Saturday, which promises to be a bustling busy day, so it will be nice to have dinner squared away. I absolutely loathe cleaning raw meat off cutting boards and knives, so only having to do it once for two meals was irresistible.
Today I’m going to make sabanekh bil hummus (spinach and chickpea stew) from this Saveur recipe, and serve it with store-bought pita.
It’s easy and so savory and tasty. Damien likes it, too, and he’s not generally a big chickpea fan.
I have not done one single speck of Christmas baking, except for a bake sale back in November. I might get ingredients for buckeyes, which are no-bake treats (it’s just basically peanut butter, butter, and powdered sugar mushed into dough and then rolled into little balls, then dipped in melted chocolate). Most definitely something the kids can do basically on their own, as you can see from this pic from a few years ago
and maybe some more sugar cookies to decorate, because after school today the kids will finally be on vacation. Here is my recipe for dough that you don’t have to chill, and that keeps its shape when you bake it.
We have a set of star cookie cutters in graduated sizes, which you can double up (I mean make two of each size), ice them, and then stack them to make a tree, IF YOU WANT.
If you want to pose like this for every single photo, there is not much I can do about that, apparently.
I don’t honestly have a lot of Christmas baking specialties — just pretty standard stuff. On Christmas morning, we have cinnamon buns, bacon, OJ, egg nog, and fruit, and on Christmas evening, we get Chinese takeout (except for one kid whose relationship with Chinese food was permanently tainted by a stomach bug, so she gets a sandwich from Jersey Mike’s).
I think I settled on Alton Brown’s recipe for cinnamon rolls, because they’re meant to be made the night before and then baked in the morning. But I’m not locked in, if anyone has a suggestion for a better recipe!
And then Hanukkah starts on Christmas evening! So at some point I will probably make potato latkes, maybe sufganiyot, maybe rugelach!
If I don’t manage to post anything in time, I wish you all, every last one of you, even the mean Russian bots, but especially people who need someone to care for them, and people who have been wearing themselves out caring for other people, a warm and good and holy last days of Advent, and a Christmas day of peace and joy with our favorite baby boy. I love yez all.
Basic "blank canvas"sugar cookies that hold their shape for cutting and decorating. No refrigeration necessary. They don't puff up when you bake them, and they stay soft under the icing. You can ice them with a very basic icing of confectioner's sugar and milk. Let decorated cookies dry for several hours, and they will be firm enough to stack.
Servings24large cookies
Ingredients
1cupbutter
1cupwhite sugar
1-2tspvanilla and/or almond extract. (You could also make these into lemon cookies)
1egg
2tspbaking powder
1/2tspsalt
3cupsflour
Instructions
Preheat oven to 350.
Cream together butter and sugar in mixer until smooth.
Add egg and extracts.
In a separate bowl, combine the flour, salt, and baking powder.
Gradually add the dry ingredients to the butter and sugar and mix until smooth.
Roll the dough out on a floured surface to about 1/4 inch. Cut cookies.
Bake on ungreased baking sheets for 6-8 minutes. Don't let them brown. They may look slightly underbaked, but they firm up after you take them out of the oven, so let them sit in the pan for a bit before transferring to a cooling rack.
Heyy! Merry Christmas! Happy goodbye old year. Happy indeed. Let’s end strong with FOOD.
It’s been a bit since I’ve done a WFS, so I’ll just do a highlight reel of the last few weeks.
I published the last one before I finished making my VERY FIRST PAVLOVA. Turns out to be very easy. I used this recipe from Natasha’s Kitchen. You beat up a bunch of egg whites and sugar, then mix in lemon juice, corn starch, and vanilla. Then you just glop it onto a pan with parchment paper and bake it in a low oven for an hour; and then you turn the oven off and let it cool down verrry slowly.
Then you whip some cream and sugar and plop that on top, and then you throw berries on it. That’s it!
I forget exactly what boneheaded thing I did, but I ended up putting the pavlova into an oven that was warm, but not actually turned on; and I didn’t notice for something like forty minutes. So then I turned it on for a while, and then I turned it off for a while. Guess what?? The pavlova still turned out fine!
I was skeptical that I would want to eat this much meringue, but it’s got more to it than meringue, and was very pleasant, and not as blindingly sweet as I expected. I think the outer crust was a little tougher than it’s supposed to be, but it was still delicious. The outside is sweet and glossy and crisp, and the inside has a marshmallowy, almost custard-like flavor. It’s supposed to have more cream on top than you see here, but the whipping cream had frozen, so I didn’t have a lot to work with.
As you can see, I put blackberries, blueberries, pomegranate arils, kiwi slices, and mint leaves on mine. That was a very pleasant combination. I thought the mint would taste weird, but it was very nice having that green freshness along with the hot sugar taste. Some people make wreath shapes, which would be very pretty. I also made a bunch of individual pavlovas. Lots of possibilities. Many more pavlovas in our future!
One of my birthday presents was this wonderful cookbook: Classic Indian Cooking by Julie Sahni.
That week, I ended up using a lot of odds and ends of meat we already had in the freezer, so my budget had a little room, and I splurged on a giant hunk of lamb. I cut it up and divided it, and froze 1/3 of the pieces along with the bone.
The first portion, I made into lamb braised in aromatic cream sauce (rogani gosht). You can see that recipe here. You can also make this dish with beef, which I’m sure I will end up doing, because it was fab. Fab fab fab.
Eating a hot bowl of rogani gosht is like being cuddled by a gigantic, affectionate, fluffy cat (that’s the fragrant cream part) who keeps licking you with its rough tongue (that’s the warming spice part). I know that’s weird, but normal descriptions just won’t DO for this dish. It’s not super spicy, but enough to get your attention, and the meat was insanely tender. It just fell apart with the merest nudge from a spoon.
I also made a giant taboon bread. I wanted naan, but it was too late to get it started, so I went with this recipe, which is so easy, and you bake it in the oven all in one big slab.
The only thing I forgot was to dimple the dough with my fingertips, and it had already been baking for 7-8 minutes, so like an idiot I stuck my hands in the hot oven and attempted to dimple it anyway. Did not get very far.
But the meal was worth a little burnt fingers. I made a pot of rice in the Instant Pot and we had a really wonderful meal.
The braised lamb doesn’t look like much, but I’m telling you. IT WAS MUCH. My goodness, what a treat.
Let’s see, what else?
For the last day of school, which was December 22 (ridiculous), I made cookies for Benny’s class party. Just good old reliable no-chill sugar cookies,
Oh, and then we had this over-the-top bacon risotto for the last day of school. Heavy cream, egg yolks, bacon, salami, freshly-grated parmesan, white pepper, and so much butter . . .
I knew it was gonna be amazing, and it was. I didn’t even make anything else for dinner, and nobody complained. I had arborio rice in the house, leftover from the suppli I made for our anniversary, and now I don’t think I’m gonna be able to go back to my old cheap regular rice risotto ways. It was just so luxuriously creamy and rich.
I think people will be asking for this dish for their birthdays. It’s really special.
On Sunday, it was finally Christmas eve! We went to Mass in the morning at our normal time, because Benny was altar serving. Then I got everybody to clean up the house. We weren’t expecting any guests, but we had SO much incredible extra clutter in the house — giant cartons of things, random baskets with other random baskets on top and wads of torn-up leggings flopping around, extra pieces of furniture, dying plants, half-finished crafts, and of course a million Amazon boxes, and of course all the cartons of Christmas decorations that I didn’t manage to put up. And there was this TREE in the living room, and some idiot had strung garlands all over the place, and the line between “merry merry” and “mental breakdown” was getting a little thin. The thought of starting with this mess and adding dozens and dozens of presents and half an acre of discarded wrapping paper and forty six tons of candy wrappers with little wet wads of candy still stuck to them was more than I could deal with.
So I cracked the whip a bit, and we all cleaned that shit up. Even though we weren’t having guests! Then I made everyone take showers, and then we had supper, and then we decorated the tree, and then I started Alton Brown’s overnight cinnamon rolls.
I made a triple recipe
and had some help from Corrie spreading on the cinnamon sugar, rolling them up, and cutting them out.
and then they got wrapped up and put in the fridge to rise slowly.
Midnight Mass was lovely. They’ve started having it at actual midnight in the last few years, which is not so hard when your kids are older, and also it’s been warm out, so there wasn’t that horrible “venture out into the icy wind with your flimsy little spangled dress on” challenge. Corrie immediately went to sleep with her head on my lap, so I was tragically forced to sit down the entire time.
We had the foresight to take pictures at the beginning of Mass, rather than at the end. Here are the goons (some of them still in the Covid window, UGH):
and Ma and Pa Goon:
Got home, Damien and I put allll the presents and stockings out
and then we tottered off to bed at around 2:30 a.m.
Dora and Moe came over for Christmas, and we had an excellent Christmas day. We had cinnamon buns and bacon, orange juice and eggnog, and plenty of fruit. Several of the kids made each other homemade presents, and everyone just went above and beyond with thoughtful and amusing gifts.
For dinner, we had our traditional Chinese takeout, acquired in the correct volume by pretending to be four different people (it’s a long story); and Irene got her traditional Jersey Mike’s sub because Chinese food makes her throw up; and then we all played with our new toys and ate lots of candy and then eventually we went to sleep and slept SO HARD.
The next few nights, we had easy dinners: Leftover Chinese food one day, and Italian sandwiches the next, and then we watched Baahubali: The Beginning.
This is one of the most gorgeous, violent, insane, joyfully ridiculous movies I have ever seen, and the very last thing that happened on screen made me go, “WHAT???????” So we’ll be watching part 2, believe me! In the mean time, I went back to my Indian cookbook and pulled the rest of that lamb out of the freezer, and this time I made a curry with tomatoes and potatoes, and also a big pot of rice and some spinach yogurt salad.
Sahni describes this curry as having a “garnet-colored sauce” and that’s just what it is. It’s so rich and the spices blend so nicely, I just don’t even know how to tell you how tasty it was.
I had my doubts about the spinach salad (you cook some spinach, squeeze it out and chop it up and mix it into some heavily seasoned yogurt and sour cream), but it was a completely delightful accompaniment to the curry, very cooling and refreshing along with the savory meat.
I think one kid ate the curry or the yogurt salad. The rest of them had leftovers or eggs. Too bad! Damien and I both had seconds and it made us very happy.
I chose this meal because the recipe called for stuff I already had in the house, but I am so hyped about making more recipes from the book. Her style is nice and clear, and I’m excited!
And that’s it! That’s the year. We have New Year’s Eve coming up, and we usually have a DIY sushi party; then New Year’s Day is Sophia’s birthday, and then we have Benny’s birthday party that we had to postpone because we all got Covid, and then it’s Damien’s birthday, all in the first eight days of the year. I may just make a series of pavlovas. I can see it now: Turning the oven on, turning it off again, turning it on again, turning it off again, whipping more cream, eating more whipped cream, turning the oven on . . . .
I can think of worse fates.
Oh, one last thing: Benny got a taiyaki maker for Christmas.
She made her first batch with Nutella filling. If you’ve had yummy taiyaki, what filling did it have? I’m thinking of red bean paste for New Year’s Eve, if I can find the right kind of beans.
That’s it. That’s my final words of 2023: IF I CAN FIND THE RIGHT KIND OF BEANS. If the world ends and this is my legacy, estoy contenta.
You can make separate pieces, like pita bread, or you can make one giant slab of taboon. This makes enough to easily stretch over a 15x21" sheet pan.
Ingredients
6cupsbread flour
4packetsyeast
3cupswater
2Tbsp salt
1/3cupolive oil
Instructions
Mix the flour, salt, and yeast in the bowl of a standing mixer.
While it is running, add the olive oil. Then gradually add the water until the dough is soft and sticky. You may not need all of it. Let it run for a while to see if the dough will pull together before you need all the water. Knead or run with the dough hook for another few minutes.
Put the dough in a greased bowl, grease the top, and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm spot for at least an hour until it has doubled in size.
Preheat the oven to 400. Put a greased pan or a baking stone in the oven to heat up.
If you are making separate pieces, divide it now and cover with a damp cloth. If you're making one big taboon, just handle it a bit, then put it back in the bowl and cover it with a damp cloth. Let rest ten minutes.
Using a little flour, roll out the dough into the shape or shapes you want. Poke it all over with your fingertips to give it the characterstic dimpled appearance.
Bake for 10-12 minutes until it's just slightly browned.
Basic "blank canvas"sugar cookies that hold their shape for cutting and decorating. No refrigeration necessary. They don't puff up when you bake them, and they stay soft under the icing. You can ice them with a very basic icing of confectioner's sugar and milk. Let decorated cookies dry for several hours, and they will be firm enough to stack.
Servings24large cookies
Ingredients
1cupbutter
1cupwhite sugar
1-2tspvanilla and/or almond extract. (You could also make these into lemon cookies)
1egg
2tspbaking powder
1/2tspsalt
3cupsflour
Instructions
Preheat oven to 350.
Cream together butter and sugar in mixer until smooth.
Add egg and extracts.
In a separate bowl, combine the flour, salt, and baking powder.
Gradually add the dry ingredients to the butter and sugar and mix until smooth.
Roll the dough out on a floured surface to about 1/4 inch. Cut cookies.
Bake on ungreased baking sheets for 6-8 minutes. Don't let them brown. They may look slightly underbaked, but they firm up after you take them out of the oven, so let them sit in the pan for a bit before transferring to a cooling rack.
I don’t mean to alarm you, but it’s almost Christmas. Advent — what’s left of it — is a time of preparation, but unless you live a very unusual life, you probably need some time to prepare for this season of preparation.
We have done various things over the years to try to make Advent a season of anticipation that leads up to a day of Christ-centered joy, rather than a month-long wallow in decorations and cookies that leads to a volcano of presents. We fail every single year.
But we do always try. The nice thing about Christmas is that it’s a birth, and that means it’s a beginning, not a culmination. Call me hopeful or call me delusional, but I always feel like as long as we TRY, then we’re getting Advent and Christmas right.
So this is how we try: We set aside the day after Thanksgiving as Jesse Tree Day. And that is about all we do the day after Thanksgiving. The kids are home from school, nobody expects me to cook anything elaborate, and God has granted me the gift of a profound unwillingness to rush out and shop for amazing Black Friday deals at Target. So Friday is the day of getting ready to get ready.
The first step is to choose a list of Jesse Tree readings. The idea is to find one that more or less matches up with the actual calendar. Advent begins Dec. 3 this year, but if we end up with one that starts on Dec. 1, it doesn’t matter that much, because we know we’re going to miss some days anyway, so it all evens out. Then I print it out, round up the kids, and read off the symbols, and they dibs the ones they want to do.
Some years, I get fancy and buy special paint markers and a bunch of blank capiz shell discs with holes drilled in them, so we end up with a set of more or less uniform ornaments. Other years, I just open the infamous craft cabinet and pull out everything that looks like it won’t cry if you put glue on it. (This is my first act of Christmas Generosity: I renounce my claim on anything I put out on the table. If you’re not going to use the good stuff for getting ready for Jesus, then what in the world are you saving it for?)
Then I start some music going. In this house, we do not listen to Christmas music before the day after Thanksgiving; and the very first one we listen to is “A Medieval Christmas” by The Boston Camerata. The kids groan and complain, but I’m a big believer in building unwilling fondness through repetition. I choose my battles with music, but I insist on this one at least once a year. This is my first act of Christmas Bullying, which is also an essential part of the season, if you’re in charge of other people.
So then I toss the list with names into the middle of the craft heap, and I leave the room. The kids are going to be incredibly mean to each other while they work, which is just how they show affection; and they are going to make an insane mess, which is something I don’t need to see happening. This is my first act of Christmas Surrender. Some things are beyond my control, and it’s very good to keep this in mind and not waste emotional energy getting upset about it.
I have a confession to make: I have not been to confession yet this Advent. Every year, I bug people to go sometime during the season, and I think most of my family has been. But I have not yet gone myself.
So the following pep talk is as much for myself as it is for anyone else who needs to hear it. I do believe to my core that there is really only one indispensable preparation you need to make before Christmas, and that is getting to confession.
Let me make my case.
Maybe, like me, you’ve been putting off hanging up lights. You need to make your house beautiful and bright to get ready for Christmas morning. Understandable, but it would be awful to overlook making Christmas personal, intimate. Inviting Jesus into the dark places is what the sacrament is all about. There have been times when I have gone to confession utterly hopeless. I just went because I could not think of anything else to do, but I had no hope that things would get better. And guess what? Day broke. Jesus, the sun, came up. The dark confessional is where you meet the light of Christ. It could happen to you.
One of the great mercies of being the mother of a large family is you know one thing for sure: This can’t all be your fault. How could it be? You have raised at least some of your children more or less the same way, at the same time, using the same parenting techniques and the same amount of money in the same house, being the same person the whole time, and yet they all turn out so very different.
If ever I feel sorry for parents of one child, it’s because they might think all their child’s virtues and flaws are the result of their parenting. They’re not. Some are, to be sure, but some is pure witless genetics, and some is environment beyond family, and some of it is luck, some is miscellaneous, and a lot of it is meaningful but completely mysterious, known only to God himself, and he’s not telling.
Let’s take a look at my own kids. Let’s take a look at them on Christmas morning after Midnight Mass, when they’re opening presents, and the secrets that lurk in the hearts of Fishers are revealed. I have tried to teach all my children generosity and gratitude, thrift and any number of other salutary virtues that I think will serve them well in life. How’s that worked out?
Well, one of them will be sitting in a pile of wrapping paper and random things her siblings grabbed off the rack at the dollar store, every single time she opens a present, she will shout, “It’s just what I wanted!” and she will mean it, too.
What a grateful and generous heart, you will think! Yes, up to a point. But that same kid will have carefully wrapped either a 50-cent Walmart cake or a 50-cent Walmart pie for everyone she knows, because it was the cheapest thing she could think of. She figured out long ago that this method allowed her to pocket a good half of her allowance, while the rest of those suckers were blowing the whole thing. But also, she is so extremely delighted with her cleverness, and that delight is so contagious, that everyone who opens a present from her is delighted, too, and we eventually all begin chanting, “Cake or pie? Cake or pie?” as each person opens up yet another tiny, squashy box from her, only to cheer uproariously when it turns out to be either a cake or a pie. And so it became a tradition. The “cake or pie” chant is now my favorite part of Christmas morning.
One of my less favorite parts is when one kid invariably manages to convince themselves that all their carefully curated presents are disappointing, not anywhere near what they wanted, and probably a sign that nobody really knows them or loves them, and then retreats guiltily to their room with their stocking to sulk, and also feel embarrassed about sulking. It’s not the same kid every year, mind you, just to keep us on our toes. Next year, that same kid will spend November earnestly begging us to donate their present budget to the food pantry, because they already have everything they need…Read the rest of my latest for Our Sunday Visitor.
Off we go, into Advent and Christmas! If you’re a mother, you’re probably in charge of setting the tone for the entire family for the next month or so, and it probably feels like a gargantuan job. Here are a few things I’ve learned, that help me keep things in proportion.
Nobody is doing everything. If you read a lot of lifestyle magazines and websites or if you go on social media, especially if you are a member of a lot of women’s groups, your feed at this time of year will become an overwhelming parade of gorgeous, meaningful, liturgically appropriate practices and traditions. Foods you can make, prayers you can pray, special events you can plan or attend, presents you can craft, decorations you can arrange, songs you can sing, stories you can read, and all manner of fragrant and illuminated and sparkly and reverent and crafty and fulfilling ideas.
You must firmly tell yourself: This is the work of a CROWD. Nobody is doing all of this. Most people are doing a few things, and when you put it all together, it’s a lot. That’s what you’re seeing. If you look at your individual efforts and match it against what you’re seeing, of course it’s going to look paltry, because you’re just one person.
There are a few people who are doing a lot of things, and hooray for them, but they truly do not win any prizes for this. If you are doing anything at all to mark Advent and Christmas as a season that is different from the rest of the year — even if you’re just making sure you get the family to confession sometime before Christmas! — then you are doing it right. Light a candle and call it good. Nobody is doing everything.
Had a very enjoyable pre-Christmas conversation with Mike Jordan Laskey, the host of the Jesuit podcast for Canada and the US. It was a pretty wide-ranging chat, covering having adult children, dealing with materialism and other Christmas-related anxieties, managing and building traditions, my favorite Christmas carol that I couldn’t quite remember at the moment, CAKE OR PIE, and recognizing Jesus, or not. Have a listen!
