There’s no Christmas tree in this house, no wreaths or mistletoe, nor are there twinkling lights adorning our humble home. There is a menorah in the window.
Every year since my husband and I have been together, we skip or have a light breakfast then drive to one of the only places open on Christmas Day for some lunch: the Kosher Deli.
My husband is a creature of habit. Every year he orders the same sandwich, white meat turkey and chopped liver with Russian dressing on a club roll. That is, until today. He shocked me this morning when he said he was going to have pastrami on club with mustard. Apparently he had met his annual chopped liver quota over Rosh Hashanah, since I made the dish for first the first time in many years.
Throw in a few sour pickles (not pictured), a couple of knishes and Dr. Brown’s cream soda and you’ve got yourself a nice traditional Jewish deli feast.
We take our bounty down to a riverfront area not too far from our home and sit in the car watching the waves rush by and the sea gulls catch the wind. Sometimes we’ll even go for a little walk if it’s not bitterly cold. Most importantly, we enjoy our yummy meal and each other’s company.
It is our Christmas Day tradition.