Earlier this month my friend Jeanette and I hosted our tenth annual Wigilia dinner as a benefit for our local art gallery. Our dinners have earned a great reputation, and this year's Wigilia raised $725 for Artworks, our best ever.
We've always done the 7-course version of the Christmas Eve dinner (although never actually on Christmas Eve), and it's based on the wonderful dinners my grandmother prepared every Christmas Eve. The dinner features such standbys as pierogi and kapusta, but I've abandoned the no-meat feature of the traditional Wigilia because everyone expects kielbasa and my mother's recipe for golabki is the best ever. I don't serve the traditional carp. As kids, when my sister and I arrived at my grandparents' apartment in Chicago, we'd see the carp swimming in the bathtub. Of course we'd name them and feed them, but were very unhappy Christmas Eve morning when we learned that grandpa had killed them!
But I do introduce our diners to some of the wonderful Wigilia customs--straw and coins under the tablecloth, a candle in the window and an empty seat and place setting reserved for any stranger who does not have a place to go for dinner that evening. Perhaps the most meaningful custom to our diners is the Oplatek, when everyone breaks a bit of the wafer and shares it, along with their blessing, with each member of the party. Every person who has enjoyed one of our dinners is charmed by the beauty of these customs.
Jeanette, who is of French ancestry, and I always bicker a bit (but playfully and lovingly) about the menu. "No" I tell her to such suggestions as onions in the royal potatoes, crackers with the appetizers, and a fruit plate with pineapples or bananas. None of these appeared on my grandmother's table, and they don't appear in the cookbook she gave me, "Treasured Polish Recipes for Americans," which was first printed in 1948. I think it's still in print, and I'd recommend it to anyone.
But best of all, hosting these dinners carries me back to my grandparents' apartment and the wonderful evening they provided for us every December 24th. It reminds me of my heritage, and of how special that heritage truly is.
