Northshore magazine showcases the best that the North Shore of Boston, MA has to offer.
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208 Previous page Davio's executive chef Rodney Merullo creates the Feast of the Seven Fishes. Merullo's Mussels, opposite page Photograph by Glenn Scott As the afternoons grow shorter and colder, the holiday season inevitably approaches, whether we feel enthusiastically geared up or find ourselves hoping for a quieter, reflective time to reconnect and rejuvenate. For many, comforting family ritu- als and get-togethers represent an escape from our hectic modern lives and are a highlight of the Christmas season. During La Vigilia, the traditional Italian Christmas Eve celebration also known as the "Feast of the Seven Fishes," food, family, and tradition intertwine on one very big night. For years, I've had a basic frame of reference for the Feast of the Seven Fishes, based on marrying into my husband's southern Italian family, whose ancestors are from both Sulmona, in the Abruzzi region, and the Naples area. Researching the true origins of this time-honored feast, and having the opportunity to talk with local chefs and restaura- teurs, has expanded my knowledge and reminded me that, in so many families, Italian or not, love truly is expressed through food. Lots of families bond over meals, but the traditional Italian Christmas Eve elevates and celebrates the preparation and sharing of food in a unique and meaningful way. This custom offers not only an elaborate menu but also a glimpse into centuries of Italian family traditions. I was nervous—conveniently, I was also very hun- gry—for my first of many La Vigilia, which took place years ago at Dora Napolitano's apartment in Everett, Massachusetts. Liking fish didn't hurt, but my expec- tation of a few seafood dishes paled in comparison to the aromas that overwhelmed my senses as I stepped into Dora's kitchen to meet her. The sheer amount of food that was being offered and the obvious invest- ment of preparation time didn't escape my notice, despite my jumpiness at meeting my husband's extended family for the first time. Among other specialties, she prepared shrimp salad, baked whiting, smelts, stuffed quahogs, and eels in tomato sauce. Dumbfounded, all I could do was smile and observe as dish after dish material- ized from her cozy, efficien kitchen. Instinctively I knew, with no small amount of respect, that this loving, soft-spoken woman never had to consult a recipe card or measure ingredients out to exact amounts. Just like my Irish mother's pot roasts, beef stews, and soda breads, Dora's abundant courses flowed from her kitchen with many years of rich tradition behind them. Her spread was weeks in the planning, and to this day I shy away from ever recreating it. According to commonly accepted thought,