Crab and Caesar

Thinking about Traditions

Before I start my normal essay/newsletter, for many in the West Bank, the Christmas traditions were rightly canceled this year in solidarity with the people of Gaza. During this small act of solidarity and statement against genocide across sectarian lines, Israel decided to raid a refugee camp in the West Bank, arresting people and shooting a 17 year old in the neck. These raids occurred even in Bethlehem, a holy sight for christians as it is the home of the Church of the Nativity. To not, during this time, recognize the horrors being committed on land that is considered holy for billions of people, is to neglect simple humanity. A ceasefire needs to happen. As Americans, our tax dollars fund this. We cannot stand for such unabashed violence against civilians attempting to just live their lives. Please consider donating to Palestinian Children’s Relief Fund. And if you have a moment, contact you congress member. Here is a contact sheet from Jewish Voice for Peace.

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We were never religious in any real way growing up. I never went to church, not even for my parents friend’s weddings. I’ve honestly never really understood the ways in which those spiritual upbringings can shape you simply because I never partook. In short, I guess, we were atheists. We didn’t believe in god, and only each of us in adulthood would later latch onto our own distinct forms of spirituality and the occult. My mom growing up was a bit more agnostic, but reticent to join any sort of church after a realization that she and her friends had in Catholic service as teenagers. My dad on the other hand was antagonistically atheist, constantly berating the stupidity, as he saw it, of religion. It was moronic to him. And yet, he loved to place the tree in the corner of our house, make the odd Sculpey ornaments every year. He still loves to give good gifts. In his eyes, you can fuck all the rest of it, but you can’t let go of giving a good gift, or having a good meal with those closest to you. 

For us, like many agnostic and non-practicing christian and catholic families it’s the tradition, the ritual repetition of these events that makes it all feel somewhat special. The giving of the gifts, the placing of a tree in your house (which is really an old pagan tradition), it brings us back to the winter and toward a sense of reflection. We’ve been here before and will be here again. It’s a point of return in the non-ending trudging of time. We get to return and for a moment in the stark relief of our families and their well-dug dynamics see how we have changed over the past months.

But for me, the best part of the holidays has been Dungeness crab and Caesar salad. We never do anything fancy. We buy the crab already cooked, make any sort of aioli, garlic butter, and some nice bread on the side. The Caesar salad is what takes the most time. My mom usually starts at the beginning of the day to cut and cool and crisp the lettuce, prepping the dressing and anchovies and croutons a bit closer to dinner time. 

My mom, probably sometime in the 80s, was a fanatic for her father-in-law's Caesar, which he and my grandma Jack would have every Saturday (?) with steak. So, deciding that she needed to have the recipe, my mom waited for Dwight, my grandad, to drink three scotches (too little or too much scotch, my mom always says, and the salad didn’t come out perfect) and start preparations for the salad. All day, she followed him around the house and kitchen, taking notes on every detail of his methods until it was dinner time. Later, my mom wrote out the recipe, and from it we make what we call Hersey Family Caesar Salad. 

For the Caesar, there is always some component of it on the counter throughout the day, waiting to be incorporated, sliced, shaved, dashed in at any moment, a reminder of its rarity in our family, but also of its reverence too. I think it’s safe to say that all of us, my mom, dad, and three siblings believe it to be our favorite salad. And it seems to be only good when either my mom or dad make it. None of us, at least my brother and I, feel it quite matches up with what’s made at our childhood home. 

And this was always the Christmas Eve meal for most of my childhood. Slowly, however, the tradition seemed to fade. I was living on the east coast for a bit, my sibling was in New Orleans, my mom would travel to Connecticut for Christmas with her boyfriend after my parents split up. We were all growing up, trying to make out new lives as adulthood engrossed us. And so, for the past five years, due to the pandemic and humpback whales lingering in Dungeness crab fishing areas, we just didn’t have crab and Caesar. The tradition faded. 

However this year, my sibling, mom, and I, after hearing one of our mom’s friends talk about getting crabs at the store, thought we might as well do it again. When my mom went to the grocery store, we found out they were Oregon crabs, but we were already fairly set on the crab. So she bought it, and started making Dwight’s Caesar salad. 

It was a small and peaceful Christmas Eve as we cracked the crab and crunched the romaine lettuce. My mom said it had been at least five years since she had crab. It had been at least that long since we had it for the holidays. We kept saying how it was the best Caesar we’ve had, once again. We started to talk about traditions, how grounding they can be. How there are so many traditions we should let go of from the past. There are so many traditions that create barriers between us as people, creating fictitious lines where we are divided, but food seldom speaks with those sorts of declarations. There is just the time of year to have it.