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The Simple Dish

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday because it brings people together, allowing them to reconnect and share with each other. It’s a time when families, friends, and relatives come together. I especially love it because, during Christmas, my family prepares a lot of food. I mean a lot — more than we’d have even on my birthday. I remember my sister would make homemade shawarma and burgers which is my favorite, my father would cook bulalo, and my mother would make chicken cordon bleu. I don’t cook, so I would just chill and hang out with my neighbors outside. This has been a big part of my childhood, and just talking about it now makes me wish I could go back to those days and stay there a bit longer.

Every Christmas has been special for me, but one stands out as particularly memorable — a Christmas I didn’t expect. One time, my family decided to go to Don Carlos to attend a Thanksgiving event at a church we occasionally visit. Unfortunately, only my mother, sister, and I could go because my father had to work a night shift. We planned to stay there until Christmas, thinking they would have a noche buena there. When we arrived, I got to meet my aunts, uncles, older cousins, nieces, and nephews. I was having a great time until my mom told us we needed to go back home the day before Christmas.

Curious, I asked her why, thinking maybe there was an emergency or something important to take care of. She explained that her sisters don’t really celebrate Christmas like we do; they don’t do the big “handaan” (feast) because they’re busy preparing for their business, a karenderya. So, the day before Christmas, we went back home, and I saw my father packing for his night shift. Our noche buena that year was just rice and leftover fish paksiw. Looking back, I feel ungrateful for being disappointed just because our noche buena was so simple. At that time, I felt sad because I thought I would never have the kind of noche buena we usually had. Plus, my father was at work on Christmas Day.

But, despite all that, the paksiw tasted great, and we had a really long conversation with my mom and sister throughout the night. This Christmas was memorable for me because it was so different from any other Christmas I’d had, and it’s something I’ll never forget. It made me realize that we can always celebrate Christmas in our own simple way, just like with the simple dish, the leftover paksiw. Sometimes, the most memorable moments aren’t grand or extravagant. Often, it’s the simple things that mean the most.