December. Christmas. The tree (Amma's review: silent — she's stopped commenting on the tree, which is either acceptance or indifference, and I choose to believe acceptance). The ornaments accumulate: Ganesh, Lakshmi, rolling pin, seven years of handprints, the "Baby's First Christmas" that started everything.
Anaya added a new ornament this year: a tiny wooden spoon she found at a craft store. "For the kitchen," she said. "The tree needs a kitchen ornament."
The tree needs a kitchen ornament. The girl who reached for the book at the Aksharabhyasam puts a wooden spoon on the Christmas tree. The writer-chef, foretold.
Christmas dinner: the usual beautiful chaos. Both families, the biryani-undhiyu-meatball alliance. Amma at the table, quiet, eating, occasionally commenting with the soft precision of a woman whose words are becoming rarer and therefore more valuable.
She said to Anaya: "You'll cook the Christmas biryani someday."
Anaya, five: "I already help Amma cook it."
Amma looked at me. At Anaya. Back at me. "Three cooks in one family. That's too many. You'll fight about the tamarind."
She's right. We probably will fight about the tamarind. Three generations of Krishnamurthy women arguing about the tamarind is exactly what this family will look like in ten years.
I made the biryani, the payasam, the cardamom shortbread. The traditions layered on traditions. Each year adds a new ingredient to the ritual while the old ingredients remain.
Rohan ate cake with his fists. Some traditions are constant.
New Year's approaches. 2023. The year the book comes out. The year Anaya starts kindergarten. The year Rohan turns three. The year Amma turns seventy-one. The year the sambar reaches bookshelves.
The tree glows. The wooden spoon hangs between Ganesh and the rolling pin. The kitchen is on the tree.
Merry Christmas. The family is bigger than the table. The love is bigger than the room.
The biryani is the centerpiece, but Christmas at our table has always been about the smaller rituals too — the ones that happen at the counter while the rice steams. These gumdrops started as something I made to keep Anaya busy one December afternoon, and now they’re as permanent as the ornaments on the tree. Jewel-colored, sugar-dusted, lined up on parchment like little gifts — they’re the kind of tradition that layers itself in without asking permission, and that’s exactly how the best ones arrive.
Quick & Easy Gumdrops
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes (plus 8 hours setting time) | Servings: 40 gumdrops
Ingredients
- 2 envelopes (1/2 oz total) unflavored gelatin
- 1/2 cup cold water
- 1-1/2 cups granulated sugar, divided
- 3/4 cup boiling water
- 1 package (3 oz) flavored gelatin (such as cherry, lime, or orange)
- 1/2 teaspoon citric acid (optional, for tartness)
- Additional granulated sugar for coating
Instructions
- Bloom the gelatin. In a small bowl, sprinkle the unflavored gelatin over the cold water and let it stand for 5 minutes until softened.
- Dissolve the sugars. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine 3/4 cup of the granulated sugar and the boiling water. Stir until the sugar dissolves completely. Add the flavored gelatin and stir until fully dissolved, about 2 minutes.
- Combine. Remove the saucepan from the heat. Add the bloomed unflavored gelatin and the remaining 3/4 cup granulated sugar. Stir until everything is completely dissolved and smooth. Stir in the citric acid if using.
- Pour and set. Lightly grease an 8x4 inch loaf pan or silicone mold. Pour the mixture into the pan. Allow to cool to room temperature, then cover and refrigerate for at least 8 hours or overnight until firm.
- Cut and coat. Turn the set candy out onto a cutting board. Using a sharp knife or small cookie cutters, cut into 1-inch squares or desired shapes. Roll each gumdrop generously in granulated sugar to coat all sides.
- Dry. Arrange the coated gumdrops on a parchment-lined baking sheet and let them air-dry at room temperature for 1 to 2 hours before serving or packaging.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 35 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 5mg
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 332 of Priya’s 30-year story
· Edison, New Jersey
Priya is a pharmacist, wife, and mom of two in Edison, New Jersey — the town she grew up in, surrounded by the sights and smells of her mother's South Indian kitchen. These days, she splits her time between the hospital pharmacy, school pickups, and her own kitchen, where she cooks nearly every night. Her style is a blend of the Tamil recipes her mother taught her and the American comfort food her kids actually want to eat. She writes about the beautiful mess of balancing two cultures on one plate — and she wants you to know that ordering pizza is also an act of love.
