Cranberries, Christmas and California

Sitting in the middle of the lounge room floor, surrounded by Christmas wrapping paper and as yet unwrapped gifts, all the windows open as the warmth from outside permeates through the house, I am momentarily bewildered. It is late November and I was going to read up on recipes for different cranberry sauces for Thanksgiving, a few short days away, but have opted instead to start early on the Christmas presents. It is 80 degrees Fahrenheit and so hard to bring myself to think about Thanksgiving and Christmas in this mild, beautiful, sunny weather.

Yet the warmth worked it’s magic and took me back to another place and time in my life. Up until my move to California just over a decade ago, all my Christmases were hot in the Australian summer. Eventually we learned to eat foods more suitable to the heat, preferably by a pool or at the beach, a park or a backyard BBQ. Cricket was a game taken seriously by the whole nation and the swatting of flies was the only thing that mattered more that hitting that small red cricket ball. But in those early, far back days, when my parents and grandparents had managed to pull their lives back together after the war, find jobs and somewhere to live, we still lived by the old European traditions. Heavy, rich, creamy food was prepared for days leading up to Christmas, all the foods we now associate with snow, rain, sleet and cold. Hot mulled wine wafted through the house, rich saffron breads, loaded with dried fruits, “piragi” little bacon buns that take hours to make and seconds to consume, roast pork and very rich chocolate, cream cakes along with the obligatory “pepper cakes” ginger cookies. These are the tastes of my childhood, tastes my mouth longs for now, but at the time, in heat exceeding a 100 degrees and no air conditioning, senses were overwhelmed by the cloying, heavy smells.

In the above photo, one can see our grand tree, six or seven ornaments and a few strands of tinsel. How those pine trees survived the heat is something I will never truly comprehend. I know as a small child, I had to keep adding water to the bucket the tree stood in, or it would die very quickly and the pine needles get brittle and dry, a very real fire danger from the candles, as this was long before the electric lights we enjoy today. From the adoring look I am giving my mother, I was obviously very excited about Father Christmas coming with my gift. I do say gift not gifts, as the days of children receiving more than one gift for Christmas were still a very long way away.

As we all gradually became Australians and adapted to our new homeland, we took on the traditions of Australia. Our own affluence, time and the weather, created different traditions, ones with lobsters, salads, ice cream cakes, Carols at the Myer Music Bowl, and long lazy walks along the beach in the evening. Just last year I had the pleasure of enjoying another Christmas with my family in Melbourne. The temperature leading up to Christmas Eve was stiflingly hot, around 110 degrees Fahrenheit and with limited air conditioning, we opted for a less traditional Latvian dinner and chose the best of both worlds. Absolutely delicious fresh lobsters, prawns, smoked salmon (smoked in the back yard with plenty of dill and even maple syrup which my son had brought over from Canada), piragi, cold Latvian potato salad with that little extra for color, beetroot! Of course there was the obligatory ham, green salad, copious amounts of good Aussie wine, and of course, great company. What a delicious melding of two cultures to compensate for heat but still keeping Latvian traditions alive.


And now, as the days will grow even shorter here in California, a little more chilly, but not snowy nor icy cold, I will adjust yet again, somewhere in the middle of the very harsh Latvian Christmas and the heat of the Melbourne ones. The short days allow us to string up loads of beautiful lights to illuminate our homes, backyards and boats, and the cooler temperatures will give me that kick start to look up the old recipes again. Cranberries figure predominantly in both the US and Latvian cooking, so maybe those few different sauces to accompany the turkey will be in order.

Looking back at my life, I realize how very blessed I have been to live the way I have and garner and retain my three different cultures. It feels so very right to combine these three cultures during the Thanksgiving and Christmas season, call the whole period “The Holidays” and spend this time with people I love and care about, in California, where I can share from my past and look forward to the future. This future will involve everything I have brought with me through my life, handed down from my parents, and melded together with all the new things I am learning and experiencing in my new homeland. The fact that most of these experiences involve food, wine, good friends and family, adds to the sweetness and joy of the experience.