Ever since my little sister was a bitty thing, we've had sushi on Christmas Eve. It began when we lived in a high-rise apartment in downtown St. Paul after we moved back from San Francisco -- that being my dad's way of easing Shelley into Minnesota life -- and our favorite little sushi joint in the building was one of the few places open on Santa's big night. I'm sure the tradition would have died out if not for Gena, who has insisted we get our fix in cities as far and wide as Dublin, Santa Barbara, Chicago, and Sarasota. (I'll admit I've been quite a stickler, too. I love a good tradition -- and any excuse for sushi.)
This year we straight-up feasted at Kanoyama (thanks in part to a very generous gift card from Mandie -- you are a gem, my beautiful friend). Sushi and sashimi took center stage but there were also star turns from east and west-coast oysters, flash-fried ice fish with a mysterious briny green powder, and tender grilled matsutake mushrooms. And I can't forget the sake -- some traditions get better when we're all grown up.
Dare I say it was our best Christmas Eve sushi yet...?
Come to think of it, Christmas itself was one of the very best -- including those breathless, giddy holidays of childhood. (I even woke at 4 am, unable to sleep, excited for everything the day would bring.)
It's been a good great year.