Growing up Jewish meant going to a Chinese restaurant on Christmas. Or was that on Christmas Eve? Not quite sure but it is certainly a tradition I embrace and it was sorely missed this year, especially on Christmas Day while I was home cleaning and chewing on "donkey butt".
Our Christmas Eve as far more successful. We spent it savoring "my people's food" with my grandpa. Not sure how much that thrilled A. but he was definitely a good sport about it, even providing juggling entertainment.
A., Izzy and I showed up at my grandfather's apartment bearing dishes much like those my grandma used to prepare. Mushroom and Barley soup, Noodle Kugel and some homemade raspberry creams.
Grandpa was only able to eat one dish for his dinner, as his appetite has grown smaller with age. That one dish was the Kugel and he liked it so much he practically licked his dish clean. Izzy is a huge fan of Kugel too so it was nice to see them sharing in the Kugel joy.
Although I didn't get my Chinese food fix, eating Kugel with Grandpa was a fine way to spend Christmas Eve.
p.s. I wonder if Grandpa used to eat Chinese on Christmas? From what I understand the tradition does go way back...