Over a hand of briscola, my cousin Paolo and I decided that the tree Papa bought was too small for the importance of our first family Christmas. We needed an enormous tree - an alberone. Paolo and I set off to the woods of our cranky neighbor, Aldo, cut down a huge, 12-foot spruce, and dragged it home. We were covered in needles and sap, and our hands were frozen, but we were so used to working during Christmas, the labor of hauling the monstrous tree home through the frozen countryside was nothing compared to the hard kitchen-work of past Christmases!
Today, my holidays are still not conventional and I haven't celebrated a real family Christmas since that year in Tuscany. At home I have a Hanukkah bush because my wife is Jewish. So instead of the alberone we have the Hanukkah bush made of rosemary. And instead of starting the fire, I light the menorah.
I have brought the traditional Italian Christmas dessert, Panettone, from Italy to sell at the Salumeria. The smell and taste of it alone brings back a rush of Christmas memories. At first I sold it by the slice at the counter, but I quickly realized that I had to stop because I was eating more than I was selling!


The cork of the wine that Mark chose, and the champagne I chose.
The risotto.
Julian and I at my wedding.




