Christmas Traditions: Karaoke and Cannolis

For me, Christmas is synonymous with family, food and karaoke.

Growing up, my family would make an annual road trip from Georgia to Queens, NY to visit relatives on both my father's and mother's sides of the family.

Christmas Eve would be spent with Filipino relatives in South Ozone Park where dinner usually consisted of such traditional holiday staples as pancit (Filipino noodles), dinuguan (pork blood stew) and on special occasions, lechon (roasted whole pig).

Stories would be shared, and as the night progressed, we'd all gather around the karaoke machine to hear (or participate in) the soulful, slightly inebriated crooning of Filipino love songs.

Mama, my grandmother, would sit at the center of the room, silver hair aglow and a walker by her side. She'd smile as she passed out checks (and kisses) to her many, many grandchildren.

Us kids would walk up, one by one, and press her hand to our foreheads as a sign of blessing and respect.

By the time Mama passed away, she had left behind quite the legacy, with 27 grandchildren and even more great grandkids who loved her dearly.

Christmas Day would begin with mass, followed by photos in front of the Christmas tree. Then, we'd spend the day with Dad's side of the family for a hearty Sicilian feast.

Christmas dinners at Aunt Josie's were epic to say the least. The seemingly never-ending courses consisted of homemade lasagna, spaghetti, sausages and veal. Aunt Josie would be on her feet, apron tied around her waist, busily stirring, sampling, and serving Italian cuisine made straight from the heart.

Conversation followed over coffee, biscotti, and cannolis, a Sicilian dessert that consists of fried pastry dough stuffed with sweet and creamy ricotta filling.

Guaranteed, at some point in the evening, my father would demand, "Where's the cannolis?"

While I didn't speak the language, I'd enjoy listening to my family speak in their Sicilian dialect with loud, passionate voices that carried over each other, almost lyrically.

I came to understand that raised voices and hands didn't necessarily connotate anger but rather, a passion for speaking. My dad and his sister, Teresa, would bicker and tease relentlessly, with deep scowls suddenly relaxing into laughter. Some of my best Christmas memories consisted of listening to these lively conversations, despite not understanding a single word.

While many Christmases past seem to fade together, these are some of the vibrant memories I will always keep with me.

If you'd like to share some of your favorite holiday stories and traditions with other members of the community, please leave a comment or email me at gaetana.pipia@patch.com. You can also upload Christmas photos to the site by clicking "Add" under the icon to the right.