Effortless Yuletide

Christmas has come and Christmas has gone. And, boy, what a time we had! 

Now, don't get me wrong. I have loved every festive season that I've gotten to spend in Asia since 2009, with eight in Hong Kong and even one in Singapore. But there's a bit of pressure you have to apply to the month of December, a bit of energy you have to put into it, in order for it to really feel like you've enjoyed the holidays properly. 

What I think I've appreciated most about having been home in the USA for this one is how effortlessly it all flows. Over there, you really have to find Christmas. You have to make Christmas happen. But here, Christmas finds you. It happens all on its own. 

For example, with Hong Kong's warm weather, rooftop barbecues, hikes and beach days peppered throughout the holiday season, you really need to seek out certain items to reinforce the fact that it's actually December. Sure, you'll see festive displays in most of the shopping malls and many of the bars peddle mulled wine. There are also trees in the restaurants and boutiques, and company Christmas dinners are de rigeur. But if you didn't put in the extra effort, Christmas would remain largely confined to the sidelines.  

So, normally, I go overboard with the Christmas accoutrements. I pick up some wildly overpriced mistletoe at Flannel Flowers, festoon my apartment with a dozen poinsettias from the Flower Market over in Prince Edward, stock up on candy canes to hang on my tree, and snap up a box of marrons glaces from Maison du Chocolat. Without those reminders, you'd be forgiven for overlooking the imminent holiday. 

This year, I did none of those things. No mistletoe, no poinsettias, no candy canes, no chestnuts. But none of it mattered. I was still smacked with Christmas everywhere I went. 

Case in point: one dreary Saturday, I was woken up by sirens blaring on the street. No, there wasn't any conflagration raging in a nearby house or a terrible accident that had taken place on the highway. Instead, it was simply Santa Claus, riding around on his firetruck, greeting the residents of our development. 

And Christmas takes over the television networks and radio stations from basically the middle of November here. So instead of having to carefully curate my screenings and playlists, like I do if I spend the holidays in Hong Kong, I can just count of the movies and sitcoms and songs just coming on by themselves. 

Of course, not everything was left to happenstance. I did exert some energy to milk a little extra Yuletide joy out of the proceedings. I booked a ticket to catch "The Nutcracker" over in New Brunswick at the historic State Theatre last Sunday, and one random Monday night, a couple of weeks back, I drove through "Magic of Lights," the impressive holiday display at the PNC Bank Art Center, with my sister and a couple of her friends. 

And I did ensure there was always a carton of egg nog in our fridge, in addition to some Christmas beers and ciders, plus wine for mulling, when the occasion allowed. Christmas was surely in the air! 

Our halls, as you'll recall, have been decked since just after Thanksgiving, with more and more items having been added little by little. Old favorites like the musical carousel that has graced our mantel since the early 1990s, but which this year has been relocated to the dresser in my bedroom. The hand painted ceramic nativity set my mother made in 1982, which takes pride of place in the living room. The mechanical Santa and Mrs. Claus dolls whose lights and motors have kept chugging for decades, And all the pieces of the Christmas village our family has collected for as long as I can remember. 

My sister and I crafted a nifty little gingerbread house, too, each taking a half to embellish in our own way. Oddly enough, one of the colorful decorative candy squares turned out to be chewing gum. So the first time you break off a piece of the roof or walls and take a chomp out of it, you might realize not everything in your mouth should be swallowed! But before long, you'll learn to pick the gum off first and save it until after you've finished the crunchy gingerbread, gummy gum drops and sweet icing. 

Yes, for weeks and weeks now, it's just been an effortless Christmas season. 

Earlier in December, it even snowed for a spell! Alas, it didn't really stick. But, at the same time, it wasn't a smattering of specky flurries, either. This was honest to goodness snow with flakes the size of pennies dropping from the skies! 

Well, what with the snow and the ever dipping temperatures and my increasingly cold-intolerant skin that grows all the more sensitive with each year spent in a sub-tropical clime, all combined with the fact that my one serious winter jacket was left in Hong Kong, since I never anticipated sticking around in New Jersey for this long, led to a major purchase: a vintage men's mink overcoat, which I ordered off eBay. I'm just in love with the garment, and I hope it provides me with years of warmth! 

Actually, though, the weather has been quite temperate. It was downright balmy a few of these December days, to be frank. And I've taken as much advantage as I could, enjoying hours in Deep Cut Gardens and Cheesequake State Park and the Keyport and Laurence Harbor Waterfronts. 

One gloriously sunny Sunday, my dad and I drove over to Washington's Crossing, Pennsylvania, not far from New Hope, where we witnessed a historical reenactment of (you guessed it) Washington's crossing of the Delaware River on Christmas Day back in 1776. This is an event that had been on my radar for a number of years, so I was tickled pink to finally be able to watch it in person. 

There, on a hill overlooking the gently flowing river, dozens of costumed participants fired cannons, paddled rowboats, and posed for photos with the gathered crowd. And, to remember the day, I even bough some fresh-cut holly from a friendly lady who had set up a booth to sell her homegrown holiday cheer, clipped in her very own front yard! (It's still hanging on the chandelier above our dining room table!) 

But Christmas season really kicked into high gear when I ventured to the City of Brotherly Love for the Villanova Christmas party. There was no way I was missing the shindig, and even though my date, Heidi, intended to arrive only a few hours early, I decided to make a two-night mini-trip out of it! 

Now, before I regale you with tales of our exploits in dear old Philly, I'd just like to take a quick moment to recap a delightful, unexpected little moment that occurred as I went to board Amtrak's Pennsylvanian at the Moynihan Train Hall in Manhattan. 

I've ridden Atrak dozens of times. The cars are, for the most part, universally boring. There's nothing wrong with them, mind you. But there's nothing too special, either. Imagine my surprise, then, when I descended to the designated track and the first thing I saw was a maroon vintage Pullman coach staring back at me! 

It was basically the coolest thing ever. I was overjoyed that I just so happened to be wearing my new coat. And I was even more fortunate that an uber-friendly fellow passenger, similarly intrigued, was on hand to snap a few photos. 

Later on, during the ride, I chatted with the conductor, who informed me that anybody can buy an antique rail car, fit it out as they see wish, and pay Amtrak a (fairly exorbitant) fee to attach the car to any of their routes. What luck that, out of the probably forty trains that link New York and Philadelphia daily, I'm talking multiple departures per hour, I just so happened to select this one! 

Fast forward to Philly, and I'll tell you about one of the coolest Airbnb experiences I've yet enjoyed! I wound up staying in a centuries old wine cellar on Elfreth's Alley, said to be America's oldest continually-inhabited residential street. I can hardly describe how cool this place was, so I guess I'll let the old adage work its magic, the picture below being worth its proverbial thousand words. 

That first day in Philly, I linked up with my friend Tara for lunch at Parc, where we indulged in escargot, shrimp salad and delectable steak tartare. And later that evening, I hosted Tara and her boyfriend Steve in my homey den, before we hit the town, grabbing drinks in the heart of vibrant Old City. 

It was Tara and Steve who steered me to my lunch venue the following day, for one of the best (and certainly the biggest) cheesesteak I've ever had. The place was called Cleavers, over in Center City on 18th between Chestnut and Walnut, and I'll be back for sure the next time I'm town. 

With Heidi on her train barreling down the Northeast Corridor, I took an hour to explore the ineffably charming Mutter Museum, which showcases curious medical oddities. In addition to the famous displays, I was particularly taken with their jet-black Christmas tree near the ticket booth, which was bedecked with macabre ornaments. The Halloween freak inside me, normally dormant for the duration of December, sprang to the surface for a few moments before the holiday spirit pushed him back down again. 

Once I had met Heidi at 30th Street Station, we made a beeline for her brother Nate's townhouse in the Fairmount District. There, we had a chance to catch up with Nate's wife, Emma, and their adorable son, Miles, who, coincidentally, would be turning one the very next day! 

The Villanova Christmas party, needless to say, was sensational. It was in the imposing foyer of the iconic Philadelphia Art Museum, so you better believe I took the opportunity to run the Rocky Steps in my full suit and mink coat... How many people can lay claim to having done that? 

And once inside, it was a sight to behold! Imagine wildcats of every age, all in our Christmas finery, mingling with each other, cocktail in hand, across two levels of the grandiose space, with that dramatic marble staircase connecting the upper and lower floors. 

When Father Peter crooned "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" to the gathered crowd, I couldn't help feeling my 'Nova pride balloon through the roof. It was a little moment that will stay with me for a long while. 

But the surprise of the night was unexpectedly bumping into my old pals Jenn, Dave, Greg and Paul, whom I had no idea would also be in attendance that night! It was a true delight to spend so much time catching up with them all!

You better believe that after the party itself ended, we kept things going until closing time at a nearby bar. That it just so happened to be situated across from the Eastern State Penitentiary made for an easy and fun little photo shoot, too! So, all in all, I'd say it was a sensational evening.  

Heidi rushed back to New York early the next morning, but I decided to linger. After all, this had been my first time back to Philly since I flew home in August, and it's a sentimental city for yours truly, so I really wanted to make the most of my triumphant return. 

And you better believe I had the loveliest of days... 

It started with a stroll across the Schuylkill River, so I could properly admire handsome Boathouse Row, perhaps my favorite sight in town. With pitch-perfect weather complementing the scene, I could have spent all day drinking in the unforgettable view. But, if I wanted to fit in all the items on my Philadelphia To Do List, I had to make my way to the next stop. 

My feet carried me down the Benjamin Franklin Parkway all the way to Arch Street, where I quickly found my way to Reading Terminal Market. If you're not aware of this place, you've simply got to visit on your next trip, because it's got to be one of the single greatest foodie destinations on earth! 

I swear I am not exaggerating when I say that you could stay in Philadelphia for a week, dine at Reading Terminal Market for all of your meals, and still not sample all the worthwhile goods on offer. So I made a few rounds of the crowded space, where about fifty vendors sell all manner of tasty treats, before arriving at my final decisions. 

I ordered some out-of-this-world pretzel mozzarella sticks (yep!), plus a sizeable classic pretzel, from Miller's Twist, washed down with a Reading Draft root beer. And then I picked out two sensational donuts from Beiler's Donuts, specifically a fairly-pedestrian-but-nonetheless-scrumptious classic glazed and a wildly delicious maple bacon variety, which I will be dreaming about for at least a month. (I also grabbed a slice of shoofly pie for later.)

And then I just had an awesome stroll all over the city for the rest of my time there. I hit up Washington Square, which is the place I'd most like to actually rent or own an apartment if I was ever fortunate enough to call Philly home. 

From the square, it's only a few minutes' walk to the Olde Bar, which is located in the building that once housed Old Original Bookbinders, a true Philly icon that sadly shut its doors for good back in 2009. Its closure left a gaping whole in the city's high end dining scene, so I was delighted to learn that the Olde Bar again breathes life into those historic rooms! 

As I plopped down at the impressive bar, I had a feeling the mixology gods were smiling down on me. You see, there's a fairly obscure classic cocktail with Philly roots called the Clover Club. I only sipped my first Clover Club in Hong Kong, but, knowing that the drink was first created in Philadelphia, I wanted to savor one or two during my brief stint there. The bartender flashed me a big smile when sheepishly asked, "Can you guys mix a Clover Club?" 

"We sure can," he said, before whipping up the deceptively tasty concoction of raspberry, gin, egg white and lemon juice. It was so good I didn't even think twice about ordering a second. 

I could have easily wolfed down a third, and possibly even a fourth, but, with the skies darkening, I knew I had to be making tracks if I wanted to catch my train. I had initially intended to walk back to Nate and Emma's, where I'd left my bags, but I had such a leisurely stroll, that, before long, I had to order an Uber to ensure I didn't miss it!

The first reason that saw me linger was a duo of sensational street performers playing holiday tunes on their violin and cello. When another spectator urged them to sing, the cellist gave us a vocal rendition of "O Holy Night" that sent chills down my spine and (literally) brought tears to my eyes. I seriously considered missing my train to continue listening. But common sense won out. 

Next, as I continued through City Hall on my way back to Fairmount, I stumbled upon a little German Christmas market, where one of the stalls was selling mulled wine in souvenir boot mugs. Well, that's a December weakness, so there was no way I couldn't indulge. So Uber it was, with a quick stop and a speedy farewell to Nate, before I made it to 30th Street with only a few moments to spare! 

The next night was Heidi's storied annual Christmas party at her apartment on the Upper West Side. I'm not kidding, guys. This thing is legendary. I've heard about it for close to a decade. The problem is that Heidi usually hosts her bash on the second or third Saturday in December. So even on those years when I have come home for Christmas, my return has usually been timed closer to the big day itself, meaning I've never had the opportunity to attend before. Obviously, there was no way I was missing it this time.

Let's just say, there's a reason Heidi's well-known by the nickname "the perpetual hostess." The girl knows how to throw a party. She served kick-ass hors d'oeuvres and festive drinks, played the ultimate Yuletide playlist, invited a select crew of New York's glitterati, and kept things going until the early hours. I hope my inaugural visit to the bash was only the first of many! 

As Christmas drew near, my dad and I had one last little adventure up our sleeves. You see, since my return to New Jersey, I'd been angling for a visit to elegant Cape May, one of the gems of the shore. And since the Victorian seaside charmer is well-known for its Christmas cheer, we decided to make a little trip down to Exit 0 of the Garden State Parkway for a night. 

We had such a blast, and our bed and breakfast, the historic Peter Shields Inn, right on the water, was truly a magical spot. Why travel any further to dinner than the lobby of your lodging when one of the best restaurants in town is right there? It was a feast to remember. 

One of the most attractive aspects of a stay at the Peter Shields is the daily complementary wine and cheese tasting in the communal lounge down in the basement. There, my dad and I struck up conversations with two couples, Jim and Jeanie and Anita and George. And the chats we had were truly delightful. In fact, George, less than a year younger than my father, was born in the same part of Brooklyn, and although they didn't exactly remember each other, they were fairly certain they were in Fort Hamilton High School at the same time. 

It was Jim and Jeanie who suggested I pop by the Brown Room in Congress Hall after dinner. "It's easily the most beautiful bar in New Jersey," Jim told me. Once I heard that, I just had to check it out. 

Without my love to keep me warm, I put on that new mink, and walked the one point two mile stretch between the Peter Shields and the Brown Room. My Manhattan was perfect and I even got some compliments on the fur from other revelers, so, all in all, I'd say it was a pretty sensational evening. 

That next morning, after an early sunrise on the beach and more incredible food as part of the complimentary breakfast at the inn, my dad and I took some time to explore a bit more of Cape May. We hit up the iconic lighthouse and closed things off on Sunset Beach, were the S.S. Atlantus, an experimental concrete ship that ran aground there during a storm in 1926, is crumbing in an unforgettably photogenic fashion. 

Yes, with the waves flowing over her crumbling hull and a bevvy of gulls floating overhead, the Atlantus is a memorable sight to behold. Hopefully the next time I'm back, in the good old summertime, the waterfront restaurant will be open, and I'll be able to savor a meal overlooking the curious attraction.  

Like that, 'twas the night before Christmas. 

Danii and I ate the last chocolate squares from our advent calendars, the old man and I made a last minute visit to the liquor store, and we ordered a couple of pies from our local favorite pizza joint, DeNino's. (One was half plain, half vodka sauce. The other was vodka sauce with pepperoni and onion.) 

And when dusk was upon us, we partook in perhaps my favorite Christmas Eve tradition of all: the lighting of the luminaries! Having grown up with these, I just always assumed every community did something similar, but over the years, I've learned that it's actually something quite special. 

For those of you who don't know, a luminary is a simple white paper bag with a candle inside. Up close and unlit, they don't look like much. But when your whole street is lined with them, it's a beautiful sight to behold, the soft golden glow of the illuminated candle lending a warm air to the suburban neighborhood my family has called home since the mid-eighties. 

Of course, we couldn't resist the temptation to cruise around the local streets admiring not only the luminaries but also the festive decorations of many of our neighbors. (I may or may not have augmented my experience with a mug of mulled wine for the ride.)

With our Christmas tree twinkling in the darkness, I fell asleep on the couch in our family room, not far from the fireplace, with a plate of crispy cookies and a nice glass of milk left out for old Kris Kringle. The sugar plums, as you'd expect, danced in my head that night. 

And old Mr. Kringle was certainly good to me! When my dad, sister and I drove down to Chincoteague last month, I was delighted to discover that our Airbnb had Crossley Cruiser Deluxe in the living room. We even found the one shop on the island selling old LPs, a few of which I bought and played during our brief vacation.

I know this is an entry level record player, but I loved it portability and ease of use, so, although I didn't quite write a letter to the North Pole asking for one, I did mention aloud that I'd love something similar for my own Christmas gift. 

To my supreme joy, I unwrapped the large, perfectly-wrapped box with my name on it to discover my very own Crossley. Bing Crosby was immediately crooning "White Christmas," "Jingle Bells" and "Mele Kalikimaka."  

Christmas Day was spent as per the Parisi family custom, in Brooklyn. We started off at my Aunt Paulette's home, where she and Danii stuffed the Linzer tarts while my dad and I watched "March of the Wooden Soldiers." And later, we made the short drive to my cousin Victoria's house, where things really kicked into high gear. 

It was truly a feast, with an unending array of appetizers set out in the living room before we even made our way to the dining room for the dinner proper. (Think ravioli, Caesar salad and roasted pork.) 

At one point, we took a walk through the ostentatious Dyker Lights displays that draw hordes of curious onlookers to my cousins' neighborhood. I'm not sure I'd be happy to travel by bus from far away to view these homes. But I'm always happy that this is where we end up celebrating so I have an organic way to take a peek! 

Later still, my sister and I walked to our Aunt Beth and Uncle Walter's home for further family fun. My mom's sister, Aunt Marilyn, and her husband, Uncle Bill, were there, and it was simply awesome to finally get a chance to catch up with them after far too long. 

So Christmas 2021 was an unqualified success. Not only did I get that record player. I also received an array of lovely goodies in Brooklyn, including a set of four edible candy cane shot glasses, some lovely bath products, a travel trivia game and an Italian scarf. I just loved everything I was gifted this year. 

As you know, one of the many gifts Hong Kong has given me is the joy of Boxing Day! In the States, we don't necessarily celebrate this day or even have a proper name for it, apart from December 26th or the day after Christmas. But I'm now a firm fan, so I insisted we do something to properly mark this occasion. 

My dad's best friend, Uncle Chris, came out to our place with his adorable puppy Finn, and we had ourselves a merry little Boxing Day eating Japanese take-away from a local eatery, playing with the dog, listening to music and just spending time together. 

I feel so fortunate that through a series of unplanned events, my August trip back home, only expected to last for a month, has now stretched through the magical holiday season. I never expected to get an American Yuletide, so to have one that worked out so spectacularly was true perfection. With family and friends, with adventures at home and afar, and with tasty food and potent drinks, this Christmas was one for the record books. 

And, yes, as I said at the start, it all flowed pretty much effortlessly.