We're doing the Seven Fishes tomorrow night, even though we're not Italian. We spent enough years living in East Boston that the tradition feels familiar. My family Christmas tradition growing up was to get everyone together, and find something trivial to fight about. It just isn't Christmas without doors slamming, and ashtrays being tossed at walls. Oh, and the Pina Coloda mix with the rum already in it-mummy loved that stuff. One year, my grandmother behaved so horribly that my dad got on the phone to his brother-in-law, and told him to come pick her up before he killed her. He must have sounded like he meant it, because twenty minutes later my uncle was there to collect granny. Anyhoo, the Seven Fishes seem like a nicer (though admittedly, less fun) tradition for Danny to associate with Christmas Eve.
For tomorrow I have:
Herring in paprika sauce
You know there will be a ton of pasta as well. Unless we lose power from the storm*...then we're eating sardines on crackers, which really wouldn't be too terrible.
* we've already had a large, ice-laden tree branch crash down on the roof (no damage, that I can see anyway). That was fun. The power has surged a couple times, but so far so good. There's a rather ominous looking icy-branch over a power line running across the front yard. I really, really, really hope it doesn't snap.