It’s Christmas Eve. For many, we hear that means carols, eggnog, and prettily lit Christmas trees. For Jewish New Yorkers, it means something else entirely: takeout Chinese.
I have a slightly different experience than most NYC Jews, though: my grandmother was born on Christmas Day, and my mother grew up celebrating the day both as Christmas and as a birthday. For much of my childhood, we went to Grandma Jane and Poppy’s house in Westchester for the annual Christmas-Birthday party where my main activity was playing with my sisters and cousin on my grandparents’ very cool red, orange, and yellow shag carpet left over from the 60s.