Madar Tej reminds me of my Uncle George because my grandma always makes it when he comes to visit. He usually has three bowls. Madar Tej is special to me because it is my uncle’s favorite dessert. Just about the only time we have it is when he comes up. My uncle always teases me about having it with chocolate sauce.

The people who came for Christmas Eve dinner are all of my relatives and they had a big helping of my mom’s best lasagna in the entire world. After everybody finished eating, everyone’s face lit up with glee then they started to say, "This was wonderful and thanks for having us." That is what makes our Christmas party so much fun!

Bernie Fitchet cookies are golden brown and are shaped like Santa, trees and bells. They are softer than a cup of Jell-O! We sometimes put frosting on them. In my house Christmas is so special to me because we make sledding teddies, gingerbread houses, decorate a 14-inch Christmas tree, and we have a collection of Santa's snowmen, nutcrackers and teddy bears. All of these traditions add to the magic of Christmas. (See artwork at chapter end).

The tradition of Cherry Cheese Pie started with my great-grandmother
Fleming, when she was alive and up-and-running. It is very special because we have it every year and it is not a holiday without it. During Christmas dinner it sits in a sparkling pie dish on the table and as we eat the rest of our meal, everyone rushes to get through their dinner so they can have a piece.
My mom always teases everyone and says that the pie got ruined because the cat sat on it, but we all say together, "Give us the pie!" I am the first to get to the pie and shove through my relatives to get the first piece of the steaming hot cherry pie. "Yum, Yum. It is nice and hot, just the way I like it. It would not be Christmas without Cherry Cheese Pie!"

Peel and cut the potatoes in small cubes. Fry the potatoes with salt in a large skillet with olive oil until golden brown. Chop the onion and sauté. Mix onion and potatoes. Beat the eggs lightly in a bowl. Mix well the potatoes and onion with the eggs. Cook the mix in a skillet at medium heat. The mix has to be turned on both sides so that they get cooked.

As we guide ourselves to the car my grandpa is there first because he is the hungriest. We arrive at the field of fresh cut grass with the ringing church bells in the background. I know my grandma will win the contest for the best pie because her blueberry pie is the best. The contest will begin shortly. As I look at the mouth watering foods I know one thing, my grandmother will win. Shortly, she did. She won the contest and a big blue ribbon. Then Grandpa and I got to finish Beverly’s Blueberry Pie!

Everyone in my family knows that I like weird things, for example, I like ice cream with milk and I also like hot sauce on my omelets.

When I tried the Sweet Potato Soup, nobody believed me that it was good because it was so soupy, but finally my dad tried it and said, "Hey, it is pretty good." And do you know what I replied? "I told you so!"

When my whole family gathers around to eat our special Christmas dinner, you can see that none of them care about dinner because they’re peeking over at the pie. We eat dinner quickly and when we’re done, my Mom gets the pie. Everybody’s eyes dance wildly. I’m never the first served, but when I do get served, I love it! I sink my teeth into it, the juice weeps down my face. Mmmm. Then Et’s pie is gone, but I know I’ll have it again sometime.

However I never met her, so my memories are of my grandma, who also made it. My only memory of her is when she was old and in a wheelchair. I met her in a nursing home. She had a kind, wrinkled face and a good sense of humor.

It’s such a special cake because it’s a recipe of our own invention, and it is very old. So there you have it, the story of The Moist Chocolate Cake!

My great, great grandmother made the lentil soup with bacon, and my great grandmother too, but my grandmother used hot dogs instead. Now my mom makes it for me all the time.

This tradition all started with my Grandma Con, when she was a little girl she would make fudge. Then my mom would. She would go down into her basement and spray paint coffee cans, then she would put all the fudge in the cans. Now we do it in our kitchen and put the fudge in pretty bags.

Fudge is special because we make it for OTHER people and they look forward to it. It is our tradition. Also, the fudge will always remind me of Grandma Con’s love and kindness. That is the story.

But the gingerbread cookie is not a cookie without our relatives, Ramsay and Galen, my cousins from Miami and Scott, my godfather from San Diego. They all eat Gingerbread men. Munching, sucking, and scraping the raisin eyes out of the Gingerbread man’s head. That’s why Gingerbread men remind me of Christmas. That’s because whenever I sink my teeth into one, I think about relatives and the fun of Christmas.

Then when she would go and try to find them she could not remember where she had put them. But now it is just a competition for fun, with my mom’s sisters, to see who can make the best snowball cookies and which ones taste most like my great grandmother’s. I look forward to eating them on Christmas day!