Christmas Day was everything I hoped it would be.
The kids came through the door at noon and the pho broth had been simmering for twenty-six hours straight. I'd kept the fire low overnight, skimmed it three times, and by morning it was clear and golden and perfect. The house smelled like star anise and charred ginger and home.
Presents first. Tyler opened the Leatherman and his eyes went wide — he immediately started unfolding every tool, testing the knife, the pliers, the screwdriver. He looked at me and said, "This is real." I said, "It's real." He said, "Thanks, Dad." And then he spent the next hour taking apart a broken clock radio with it.
Emma opened "Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat" and started reading it immediately, sitting on the floor next to the tree, still in her pajamas. She looked up after ten minutes and said, "Dad, did you know that acid is just as important as salt?" I said, "That's why I put lime in everything." She said, "No, it's MORE than that," and read me an entire paragraph about acidity in Vietnamese cuisine. My twelve-year-old is lecturing me about my own food tradition. I've never been prouder.
Lily opened the telescope and screamed. Not a happy scream — a banshee scream of pure ecstasy that I'm sure Christine heard in Katy. She also got the stuffed cat and named it Dr. Whiskers, which is a strong name for a stuffed animal.
Then: pho. I set the table — the real bowls, the ones I bought at the Vietnamese market, wide and deep. Sliced the beef thin (eye round, partially frozen for clean cuts). Blanched the noodles. Set out the herb plate: basil, mint, cilantro, jalapeño, lime, bean sprouts, hoisin, sriracha.
We ate in near-silence, which is the highest honor pho can receive. Lily said, "This tastes like Grandma Mai's." Emma said, "It IS Grandma Mai's. Dad uses her recipe." Tyler ate three bowls and said nothing, which, as I've explained, is his highest form of praise.
After dinner, Emma showed me something. She'd been keeping a notebook — a small Moleskine — where she'd been writing down every recipe I'd taught her. The roux. The nuoc cham. The marinade for ga nuong. The brisket rub. Written in her careful handwriting with measurements and notes like "Dad says trust your instincts but start with these numbers." She'd been doing this for months without telling me.
"I want to have it all written down," she said. "Like you have Mr. Clarence's recipe."
I had to leave the room for a minute. Just for a minute. I went to the kitchen and stood at the sink and looked out the window at the smoker in the backyard and breathed. My daughter is keeping a record. My daughter is preserving what I teach her the same way I preserved what Mr. Clarence taught me. The chain continues.
Best Christmas. Not close. Again.
That twenty-six-hour broth wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry—and neither were three kids buzzing on new presents and holiday energy. Between Tyler dismantling a clock radio and Emma reading me paragraphs about acidity, we needed something to graze on while the house filled up with star anise and charred ginger. A good Christmas appetizer spread is exactly that: no pressure, no performance, just food that says we’re together and that’s enough. This is the one I put out every year, and it’s always gone before the noodles hit the bowl.
Christmas Appetizers
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes | Servings: 8–10
Ingredients
- 8 oz sharp cheddar, sliced or cubed
- 6 oz brie or creamy goat cheese
- 4 oz prosciutto or thinly sliced salami
- 4 oz smoked turkey or ham, folded
- 1 cup mixed olives (green and kalamata)
- 1 cup red and green grapes, washed
- 1/2 cup roasted mixed nuts (almonds, cashews, pecans)
- 1/2 cup dried cranberries
- 1/4 cup whole-grain mustard
- 1/4 cup honey
- 8 oz water crackers or assorted artisan crackers
- 1 French baguette, sliced thin
- Fresh rosemary sprigs and thyme, for garnish
- 1/2 cup cornichons or bread-and-butter pickles
Instructions
- Prepare the board. Choose a large wooden board, slate, or rimmed baking sheet as your base. If using brie, remove from packaging and let it come to room temperature for 20 minutes before serving so it softens to a spreadable texture.
- Anchor with cheeses. Place the cheddar, brie, and goat cheese at different points across the board—these act as visual anchors and starting points for guests to build from.
- Add the meats. Fan or loosely fold the prosciutto, salami, and smoked turkey into small clusters between the cheeses. Vary the folding style for visual texture.
- Fill in the produce and extras. Scatter the grapes, cranberries, and olives in and around the meats and cheeses. Group the cornichons and nuts in small clusters to fill gaps.
- Add dips and spreads. Spoon the whole-grain mustard and honey into small ramekins or directly onto the board in shallow wells. Place them near the meats for easy pairing.
- Arrange the crackers and bread. Fan the water crackers and baguette slices along the edges of the board, refilling as needed throughout the gathering.
- Garnish and serve. Tuck fresh rosemary and thyme sprigs around the board for color and a light herbal fragrance. Serve immediately at room temperature.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 620mg
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 40 of Bobby’s 30-year story
· Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.