An Americani Christmas

I come from a large extended Italian family. Our traditional Christmas Eve dinner was not turkey or ham, but lasagna. And after midnight Mass we had Italian sausage. Nothing warms you up on a frosty winter's night like hot Italian sausage!

This one particular Christmas Eve dinner was to be at the house of my Aunt Stella and Uncle Carmine. My aunt thought that since it was to be at her house, she should have some say as to what was to be served. She wanted to break with our traditional menu. She wanted us to have an 'American' Christmas dinner. She would still allow the Italian sausage after midnight Mass, but dinner would be either turkey or ham - with all of the traditional Americani fixings. There was some debate on the subject. But in the end my aunt won out. This year we would have a Christmas dinner like the Americani.

My Uncle Carmine was not thrilled with the idea of forgoing the lasagna. However, he agreed to help Aunt Stella prepare the turkey dinner in exchange for her promise that next year we'd have lasagna again.

He cut the onions, celery and carrots for the stuffing. He put trays of bread into the oven to dry out for croutons for the stuffing.

My Aunt Stella hummed and smiled as she peeled and cut up the potatoes that would be boiled and mashed just before the turkey was done. She fairly beamed as she sliced the yams, put them on cookie sheets and sprinkled them with brown sugar. This would be a REAL AMERICAN style Christmas!

Stella stuffed the stuffing into the cavernous chest of the big bird. She rubbed the outside with butter and generously sprinkled the skin with salt and pepper. No garlic. This was an American-style turkey!

My Uncle Carmine hefted the prepared bird into the roasting pan. He made a tin foil tent to cover it. He asked his wife if she wanted him to put it in the oven. It was heavy and awkward and he was trying his best to be a gentleman.

She said, "That would be nice."
So he opened the oven door. Removed the upper rack and pulled the lower rack out a bit. He put the roasting pan on the rack and slid the rack with the American-style turkey all the way into the oven. He closed the door.

Aunt Stella said, "Thank you". And walked away with Norman Rockwell, Courier and Ives visions of what this Christmas Eve dinner would be like.

Two hours later my aunt remarked that it was strange the she could not smell the aroma of roasting turkey. My uncle told her that he had not turned the oven on. He thought that she would do that when she was ready.

Aunt Stella opened the oven door. There it was. One stone-cold turkey. There was some condensation on the tin foil where it touched the bird.

"You did this on purpose! You have sabotaged my Americani Christmas dinner!"

An alarm went out to all of the relatives via the family grapevine. We would have the sausage for dinner this evening and the turkey after midnight Mass. It was a disaster!

When we got to Carmine and Stella's house there was my uncle in the kitchen cooking three frying pans full of Italian sausage. He wore a towel tucked in his belt and a sorrowful look on his face. My aunt Stella was in the dining room. The table was set and so was her jaw. This was not a happy lady!

"He spoiled my American Christmas dinner! I know that he did it on purpose! This is the worst Christmas ever! What else could go wrong to make it worse?"

The house was filled with the unique aroma of frying Italian sausage with an undertone of turkey roasting. This was the fragrance of America, the great melting pot!

This had to be the quietest Christmas dinner I can remember. Normally the Christmas dinner table was the site of animated conversations, laughter and the clatter of plates and cutlery. This year it was like a wake. If anyone complemented my uncle on the sausage, my aunt shot them a 'you traitor' look. That shut them up. The table was silent again. The kids were glad that they were in the kitchen at the 'little table' rather than in the dining room at the 'big table'. They did not understand what had happened. But they knew that some thing had happened and it was not good.

Just after the meal was finished my Uncle Sam and Aunt Angela came by. Boy, were they welcomed! Someone to talk to. Someone who might have a joke to tell or news to share.

Everyone was used to seeing Uncle Sam in work boots and bib overalls, but this day uncle Sam was in dress shoes, a suit and tie.
"Honey, this tie is choking me to death!"
"Sam, you keep that tie on. I want you to look good at church!"
"Boy, that sausage sure smells good!"
"Sam, you cannot have any sausage. You might stain your clothes. And I want you to look good at church."

Sam rolled his eyes in sad resignation, "Yes, honey."
"Besides, Sam, you stuffed yourself with turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes AND mashed potatoes at Sue and Tom's house!"

My Aunt Stella shot my Uncle Carmine the evil eye. They'd had an American Christmas dinner!

Sam excused himself from the table and went to sit down on the sofa in the living room. This way he would be away from the temptation of all of that Italian sausage. Besides, all that 'American' food had given him indigestion.

My Aunt Stella told Aunt Angela how my Uncle Carmine had sabotaged her Americani Christmas dinner. "This whole day has been a disaster! What else could go wrong to make it worse?"

After a little visiting and commiserating, Aunt Angela got up. They had two more stops to make before midnight Mass.

She called out to Sam in the parlor.
"Sam, wake up! Its time to go! You'd better not be wrinkling up your suit, I want you to look good at church!"

Uncle Sam was sitting on the couch. His head was back. Eyes closed. There was a faint smile on his lips.

His wife looked down at him. "Don't you just wonder what he is dreaming about to have a smile like that?"

She tapped his shoes with the tip of her shoe. Sam did not move. Still showing that Mona Lisa smile. Aunt Angela was getting a bit embarrassed. "Sam, you get up this minute! You hear me?"

But Uncle Sam did not hear her. Uncle Sam was quite dead.
His wife screamed and fainted.

My Aunt Stella's reaction, "I had to ask what could happen to make this day worse! This could happen! A dead man on my new couch!"

One thing that could be said though, Uncle Sam did look good in that suit at church, at his funeral.

Our family figured that it was the turkey and traditional fixings that did in old Sam. It was decided to go back to lasagna for Christmas Eve dinner and sausage after midnight Mass.