OPINION: Memories of an Italian Christmas in the 1960s endure today

As a second-generation American of Italian descent, holiday dinners were a special time for our family. They were filled with food, drink, and song.

These dinners were strictly a family affair; a time when all the relatives could get together to celebrate. Christmas dinners were filled with deep traditions and a myriad of special holiday foods. The elders, speaking of bygone days and telling tales of their youth, wove a family fabric which created unshakable bonds that have endured for generations. Being part of this as a child, forged the essence of what and who I am.

Everyone dressed up for dinner, especially Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Relatives would arrive in the early- to mid-afternoon. Hugs, kisses, flowers, desserts, holiday glasses of champagne, wine or spirits would be offered to all — children got Shirley Temples. Cocktails were served in the living room with various holiday snacks, including my favorite, those little pastry-wrapped hot dogs.

Christmas Eve celebrated Vigilia di Natale — the wait for the midnight birth of Jesus. The meal began at 6 p.m. and comprised the Feast of the Seven Fishes. This is a conglomerate of baccala (salted codfish) one with olive oil, and one with tomato sauce, fried smelts, flounder, shrimp, and calamari, and lobster ala marinara with linguini. Zeppole, fried dough stuffed with anchovies, were also served. Dessert was a huge mound of struffoli, small fried-dough balls covered in honey and topped with rainbow sprinkles along with the espresso and cordials.

Christmas Day dinner would begin around 3 p.m. starting with half grapefruit and half a maraschino cherry in the center, followed by turkey, veggies, and Italian stuffing made with rice, Italian sausage and beaten egg. Again, espresso, cordials, and the most special holiday dessert, Italian rum cake, closed out the meal.

Both dinners would last almost three hours, with stories and jokes between courses. But the best part was the singing during dessert and coffee.

I would go to the hallway closet to get Dad’s prized D’Angelico mandolin. The instrument was handcrafted by my grandfather’s cousin, John D’Angelico, a world-famous luthier, and is literally a work of art. Dad would pull out his song list and we’d begin to sing.

I’d strum on my cheap guitar and try to keep up using the three to five chords I knew. Songs from the 20s, 30s and 40s were included. The whole family would join in with attempted harmonies resounding from everyone.

Dad was famous for saying at the beginning of each song; “and then I wrote …” We would sing, laugh and talk for well over two hours. No TV, radio, or other technological distractions; only family, song, food, and love for one another.

As I grew into my mid-teens, the tradition continued, and on most holidays, several of my best friends would arrive for dessert and song. We would go get folding chairs from the basement, and squeeze around the table that now had upwards of 20 people. Each friend loved sitting around the table, singing and eating, and, becoming part of an extended Italian family, if only for a brief Christmas evening.

Today, 60 years later, my friends and I still reminisce about those wonderful holiday evenings, realizing and reveling in the joys of spending the holiday together. Those special evenings truly anchored everyone in the spirit of Christmas and gave us the fondest of memories that endure today.

Merry Christmas.

Victor K. Barbiero, Ph.D., master of health science, lives in Placitas and is a public health professional who has worked for 23 years in over 40 countries with the United States Agency for International Development. He has taught global health at George Washington University and the University of New Mexico since 2004.