I had hoped to get this post up before Christmas. I also hoped to get my own Christmas cards out before Christmas. But as far as I’m concerned, the period from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Eve is all “the holiday season,” so operating on that theory, this post and my cards are timely. My card recipients will likely note that my cards are a tad late this year, but will hopefully forgive my tardiness and smile when they see the pictures of my family (including the dogs). Just as I forgave the folks whose cards arrived the day after Thanksgiving (show-offs!).
Unilke the vintage Christmas card, nearly every card we receive these days is a photo card. For me, nothing marks the passage of time quite like these Christmas cards. It’s remarkable to see our friends’ kids grow — from adorable infants, to gangly metal-mouthed teens, to proud graduates, and even spouses and parents (we have been at this quite a while now). Christmas jammies, beach photos in flowing white garb, exotic locations, infants in crocheted hats — I love them all.
Getting a “Christmas card photo” has not always been easy–in fact the past two years we wound up using a collage. My all-time favorite card was the very first one we sent out. My daughter was 8 months old, and I put her in her fancy smocked Christmas dress, took her to the garden center, and plunked her down in the middle of the poinsettias:
Christmas cards are just one of the many holiday traditions I look forward to every year. One tradition, however, that I never was able to get going was the family outing to pick out a Christmas tree. The kids have never expressed any interest in it, and the task is usually left to me and my husband. For about a decade we had an artificial tree, which no one complained about, but for the past few years we’ve gone back to live trees. This year we pulled a fast one on my son, and started out with a trip to Best Buy so he could pick out some computer items for Christmas, kind of like taking the dog to the park before dropping him off at the vet. Leaving the store, he noticed we were taking a different route, and said, “Hey, where are we going?” I said, “to the vet,” which I thought was hilarious and my son did not. In fact, we were headed to the garden center to pick out a Christmas tree — oh, the horror of having to accompany us. So while he stood there texting his friends, my husband and I picked out a tree. Ah, the stuff memories are made of.
Like everyone else, many of our holiday traditions center around food. We always have Christmas dinner at my sister-in-law’s, who does a great job of coordinating everything. This year she floated the idea of doing something other than our traditional dinner — maybe Mexican? After talking to her parents, she informed us that “no new ideas would be entertained this year.” Nice try, Liz! So we had our traditional dinner, centered around beef tenderloins that my husband grilled perfectly, and it was familiar and delicious. To accompany the beef, I always make Horseradish Whipped Cream — a double batch so that there are leftovers for my father-in-law to enjoy at home in the following days. Inspired by the vintage Christmas card and other holiday traditions, I’m sharing the recipe for Horseradish Whipped Cream. It is a great accompaniment to beef, rich and tangy, and if you use a fresh jar of horseradish, it might just clear your sinuses.
|HORSERADISH WHIPPED CREAM|| |
- ¼ cup prepared horseradish
- 1 teaspoon lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon vinegar
- ½ teaspoon sugar
- ¼ teaspoon Dijon mustard
- Pinch of salt
- ½ cup whipping cream
- In a small bowl, mix together all ingredients except whipping cream. Pour whipping cream into a medium bowl, and using an electric mixer, beat until soft peaks form. Whisk in horseradish mixture. Refrigerate until ready to use.
Where’s the beef?
Horseradish Whipped Cream nestled up to beef tenderloin
And how do we keep our balance?
Because of our traditions
We’ve kept our balance for many, many years
[W]e have traditions for everything
How to sleep. How to eat. How to work. How to wear clothes.
* * * * * *
And because of our traditions, every one of us knows who he is
And what God expects him to do.
Tevye, in Fiddler on the Roof.