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Holiday foods feed the soul

December 21, 2008 12:36 am

OVER A CUP of hot chocolate, I recently pondered how holiday foods nourish the soul, not just the body.

Many people overeat during the holidays, worry about weight gain, and carry feelings of regret. Instead, it's helpful to recognize what holiday foods have special meanings for you and plan to eat your fill.

I'm not suggesting we gorge ourselves during the holidays. At the same time, I honor food traditions that bring families closer. You might eat the ritual foods a few times a year--such as turkey on Thanksgiving--but the memories of the people and the meal last forever.

For me, I have fond memories of drinking hot chocolate in my childhood, later while traveling as an adult and now as part of my husband's family's Christmas Eve ritual.

As I share my memories, I hope you remember holiday foods that have been important in your own life.

A PERFECT NIGHT

For me, the smell of hot cocoa brings back a magical night with my family when I was about 9 years old. My parents loaded up the station wagon with sleds. My sister and I were bundled into snow pants, puffy jackets, hats and mittens. We were so excited we could hardly speak, and for once did not fight in the back seat. Not only were we staying up past our bedtime, but our parents were taking us sledding.

We finally arrived at Shoop Park in Racine, Wis. On winter days, the place was a hilly golf course on the shore of Lake Michigan, crowded with families. But that night, it was transformed. Millions of stars sparkled in the indigo sky, the snow-covered hills sparkled blue with reflected starlight and moonlight, and golden rings glowed underneath a few streetlights.

We piled out of the car. The park was a gloriously empty expanse of snow, the only sounds those of the waves shushing in the distance and the snow squeaking under my and my sister's moon boots as we towed our sleds to the top of the biggest hill.

We shrieked with laughter as we shot down the hill. We sledded for hours. I remember at one point reaching the bottom of the hill--I was big enough to sled by myself, and proud of it. I turned back and saw my parents at the top of the hill, two silhouettes against the night sky, nodding at each other.

Afterward, back at the house, the air smelled of wet mittens until my mother made a big pot of hot chocolate. She poured each of us a steaming mug, topped with floating tiny marshmallows, the perfect ending to a perfect night.

DRINKING IN MEMORIES

Hot cocoa always seemed magical to me after that, and I often ordered it it cafes. Years later, in my 20s, I visited the French countryside with a group of friends. It was October, and the weather was chilly. We stopped at an outdoor cafe, and I ordered hot chocolate.

I waited at least 10 minutes and felt impatient--what was taking so long? You just mix cocoa powder with hot milk, right? But when my cup of hot chocolate arrived, I learned it is a very different thing in France. The French slowly melt bars of chocolate in a saucepan, then whisk in hot whole milk.

To me, the drink was incredibly rich compared with American hot cocoa, and it smelled heavenly. I sipped it slowly, enraptured.

A few years later I met my husband, Rolando, and hot chocolate gained yet another layer of meaning for me. Rolando is from Peru, and his tight-knit family's Christmas Eve tradition culminates with a midnight cup of Peruvian hot chocolate and a fluffy fruit bread called panettone.

My first Christmas with Rolando's family in Virginia I was jittery, wondering how I would fit in with his parents, two brothers, two sisters and their spouses. Jittery enough that I had little appetite for the wonderful feast Rolando's mother prepared. She served a late supper of roasted turkey with her own delicious garlic red-pepper sauce and many other dishes.

Rolando's family talked for hours around the table, laughing and telling stories.

Finally, at midnight, the tantalizing aroma of spiced chocolate wafted through the room. (Rolando's dad later taught me to make Peruvian hot chocolate by melting special bars of chocolate, adding boiling water and cinnamon sticks, simmering, and finally adding cans of evaporated milk to make it extra rich and creamy.)

Rolando's mother poured the drink from a teapot into dainty teacups. Specks of unmelted chocolate floated on top, creating a pretty pattern. And the cinnamon-chocolate flavor was beyond delicious.

Afterward, as everyone exchanged gifts and teased each other, including me, I realized that they had accepted me as part of the family. It was another happy moment.

Today, when I sip hot chocolate, I don't think about the calcium and sugar and nutrients. When I sip hot chocolate, I'm drinking in happy memories of sledding, traveling and midnight Christmas Eve celebrations. What foods are important in your traditions?

Jennifer Motl welcomes reader questions via her Web site, brighteating.com, or mailed to Nutrition, The Free Lance-Star, 616 Amelia St., Fredericksburg, Va. 22401.