Nov 6, 2018 3 min read

Most families have some sort of holiday tradition. Some families have many. As far back as I can remember, my Grandma Mitzi cooked all of the holiday meals. We would gather in her small dining room, sometimes stuffed tightly around the table, raise a glass of wine and toast to many more holidays – and you didn’t dare have a sip of wine or a bite of food until that toast. Being that Grandma was Croatian and Gramps was Slovenian, Slivovitz (plum brandy), was another libation that we enjoyed at the holidays – raising our shot glasses and saying “na zdravje” with their neighbors, who came over Christmas morning and stayed until it was just about time to eat.

My dad always claimed that he couldn’t eat any turkey during the meal because he picked at it while he carved the bird (my mother, on the other hand, would not only stand over him and pick while he was carving, but would go back for seconds), and he also always refused to eat Grandma’s stuffing “because she didn’t put chestnuts in it.” Pitzelles and potica (nutroll) were served for dessert (or an appetizer, because it’s hard to wait!). And, all of this took place with “A Christmas Story” on in the background.

As I grew older and things began to change – deaths, marriages, children – and at first, I was very serious about keeping our traditions the same. I fought and tried to do the things that we always did, but the reality of it was that traditions change. They don’t necessarily die, but they evolve, or are replaced by new ones.

Holiday traditions are the theme of this issue. Whether your family is one who absolutely must see “The Nutcracker,” (Trista Thurston’s story on page 16), cutting down your own Christmas tree (Mike Jones’ story on page 20), celebrating the Scottish Hogmanay (Harry Funk’s piece on page 22), or shopping local (Eleanor Bailey’s article on page 24), this issue might show long-standing family traditions or serve as the impetus for new ones.

Last year was the first Christmas without my dad. Things were certainly different, but I still made pitzelles and potica (this time, my husband and then 4-year-old son were my helpers), still drank the Slivovitz, and made sure that 24 hours of “A Christmas” story was on the television. Even though our loved ones may no longer be with us, adapting those traditions is a way for them to live on.

Na zdravje,