You Can Keep the Oysters

Christmas traditions were a big deal in my childhood home, and we had a lot of them. From the homemade cards my mom designed (and still does) every year, to my dad’s special fudge recipe, to carols sung around the Advent wreath, to a candy cane hanging from the star atop the Christmas tree. And Christmas Eve always meant a big simmering pot of chili on the stove top.

Some traditions never change.

I’m pretty sure this last tradition arose for us because Christmas Eve can get a little rushed as a big family pulls together all the last-minute bits of the holiday, wraps gifts, and tries to get ready for church service in time to get a seat on this most special of crowded occasions. Chili is started early and it can just wait, bubbling away, its flavors melding to perfection, until someone has time to eat it.

And it was something that everyone actually liked. Some of us were purists who enjoyed it straight up, others were picky eaters who preferred the beans separated out (thanks, Dad!), and others piled our bowls high with oyster crackers. What I never knew was that the crackers were a Christmas Eve tradition, too, and a much bigger one than our pot of chili.

I realize that Christmas Eve chili isn’t a thing commonly shared by families in the US, or anywhere as far as I know, but oyster crackers, and the stew they were likely named for, apparently are. All across the United States, especially in the southeast, and even in several other parts of the world, there are lots of people who insist that oyster stew is the dish that announces Christmas Eve is upon us.

The closest I’m willing to get to eating oysters on Christmas Eve.

Oysters were a large part of the diets of early European immigrants in North America, as they were for many of the indigenous peoples, but it was sometime in the 19th century that they became linked with Christmas.

Some oyster historians suggest that it was the influence of massive Irish immigration in the mid-19th century that made the oyster a holiday food of choice. The immigrants, most of them strict Catholics, followed the dietary guidelines of their faith and stuck to seafood on high holy days. Oysters were widely available and even tasted a little like the ling fish that formed the basis of the stew they would have enjoyed in Ireland.

Other oyster historians, because apparently there are at least a few, have posited that the ever-popular oyster was shipped overland to the inner parts of the US, but only after the weather was consistently cold enough to make the journey of edible bivalves possible. That would happen in early December, meaning the first time in quite some time that a Midwestern family could get its hands on fresh-ish oyster was around Christmas Eve.

I’m not sure the two theories are necessarily exclusionary. And having grown up in the Midwest, I think I can safely say that when it comes to eating fish on a high holy day, oysters that have traveled by wagon for two weeks probably aren’t any worse than a giant catfish that’s been sucking on mud from the bottom of the Mississippi River.

Nope. That does not look delicious. Image by jsbaw7160, via Pixabay.

But then I’m not really a seafood girl. I do blame my Midwestern upbringing, and multiple encounters with questionable catfish, for that. When I briefly lived on the west coast in Oregon, I branched out and made peace with some seafood. I quite enjoy crab and most fresh ocean white fish is a tolerable alternative if the menu doesn’t contain chicken. I do, however, remain gleefully unacquainted with the oyster.

Oyster crackers are okay, though, and fortunately I have no religious qualms about eating chili, filled with beef or venison, on Christmas Eve.

I don’t actually do that anymore because the picky eaters among the family that inhabits my grown-up home don’t all like chili. Instead, we make fettuccini carbonara because everyone likes it and it tosses together quickly on a night that usually ends up being pretty busy.

And I suppose it’s okay for traditions to change sometimes. Because this Midwestern gal is definitely not eating oysters.

If you celebrate it, what special holiday dishes do you enjoy on Christmas Eve?

10 thoughts on “You Can Keep the Oysters

  1. We have a middle-sized glass Christmas Sleigh that for the lead-up to Christmas Day is always miraculously filled with chocolates (well, filled for some of the time).

      1. Yet another tedious comment from me… Inspired by your posting and utterly devoid of what to do for this evening’s meal, I took some soup out of the freezer and using an online Martha Stewart recipe for Oyster Crackers (which I had never heard of) I made a batch that are currently sitting in the oven and looking pretty. It just goes to show Sarah that your articles can change the world!

  2. We have pizza for Christmas every year. It started out years ago with wrapping presents until late Christmas Eve then getting up early and the kids wanting to play and nobody wanting to cook. Probably a bit like your pot of chili. Your post surprised me because I have only ever heard of Oyster Stew being for New Year’s. Except we had clam chowder.

    1. Pizza is a good idea! Though it wouldn’t work for us as my oldest son’s birthday is really close to Christmas and he always wants to eat pizza. Then a few days after, in normal years, we get together with some extended family and have pizza then, too. The kids probably wouldn’t mind, but it might be a little much for me.

      I didn’t know about the oysters, either, but I noticed the stores in my area all have oysters right now, which I thought was pretty strange so I looked it up.

  3. Oysters were a favourite in colonial-era New Zealand, too – mid-nineteenth century on – and viewed largely as the food of the poor – funny how things change, style-wise. I’m not sure they were ever eaten at Christmas. The ‘traditional’ festive season meal here involved a lamb roast, though I can’t ever recall my own family ever serving one on Christmas day.

I love comments! Please keep them PG, though. I blush easily.

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