In the Italian culture, there are a lot of traditions. Some make sense—like Sunday dinner or daily aperitivo—some don’t (why no afternoon cappuccinos?). Some can be explained, some can’t. We are so rooted in custom, often based around the Catholic religion, that most of the time, the reasoning doesn’t even matter.
One such tradition is the Feast of the Seven Fishes on Christmas Eve, or “La Vigilia.” This celebration is a commemoration of the wait—Vigilia di Natale—for the midnight birth of the baby Jesus. Despite the fact that seafood dishes make excellent meals anyway, the symbolism comes from (most popularly believed) the seven sacraments: Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Penance, Anointing of the Sick, Holy Orders, and Matrimony. Or, in the 13-dish version, it pays homage to Jesus and his 12 apostles.
In Italy, what was served during the feast also showcased the wealth of the family, with the well-to-do enjoying roast capitone (eel), and the less fortunate making do with baccalà.
Our Feast of the Seven Fishes Christmas Eve Tradition
Dotdash Meredith Food Studios
In my family, the tradition was set long before I came along. My father’s grandparents brought it with them to Staten Island, New York, like many of their neighbors around them. My dad and his siblings always recount the stories of the good ol’ days while cooking our own annual feasts.
They talk about Grandpa Angelo from Naples, the baccalà guy, soaking the large, cardboard-looking dry cod in the bathtub 24 hours before Christmas Eve, and how Grandma Rosie hated the smell. Angelo cooked the baccalà in a thin, spicy tomato broth with onion and celery (with red pepper flakes he called “red cheese”). This was my father’s favorite, as was the oily eel that he baked with garlic and breadcrumbs. Naturally, my dad’s younger sisters don’t remember this because, as he points out, “Grandpa and I were the only ones who ate it.” Not one to waste anything, Rosie always kept the skin of the eel to put around sprains, which was supposed to take the pain and swelling away as it tightened while drying.
Angelo also prepared his signature Clams Oreganata, and Rosie stuffed squid with breadcrumbs, egg, parsley, and garlic, before simmering them in sauce. Another standby dish from the Napolitan crew was baked whiting, served hot or cold, with lemon, parsley, and crusty Italian bread.
On the Sicilian side of the family, my dad’s Grandpa Antonino and Grandma Mary made “Pulpo and Scungilli” (or Insalata di Mare, aka, seafood salad), served cold with olive oil, celery, parsley, and lemon.
The one thing in common in all Catholic-Italian homes in that area, however, was that no meat was allowed before midnight on Christmas Eve, so, as my father says, “We all slept with the fishes.”
On Christmas Eve…”We all slept with the fishes.”
What We Cook for the Feast of the Seven Fishes
When I was growing up, many of the same customs lived on in the Scalici household. We always had some variety of the basics: a baked filet of white fish, “frutti di mare”—a pasta with marinara medley chock-full of shrimp, mussels, scallops, and calamari—the chilled seafood salad, and Clams Oreganata, of course. Each family “recipe” tasting like the holiday itself.
Other additions that have come and gone include shrimp cocktail (which my nonna would place around martini glasses with cocktail sauce in the middle in true ’80s fashion), fried calamari, fried smelts (which my dad still brings up with reverence every year), shrimp scampi, and—my personal favorite—cioppino, or some version of seafood stew.
Over the years, we have started to put our own twist on things, making new memories with each passing Christmas, though we skip the bathtub baccalà—much to my dad’s dismay. As long as there are seven varieties in there, we’ve done our job of carrying the torch.
And while we always have another extravagant multi-course meal of antipasto with soppressata and Parmigiano-Reggiano, fist-size ravioli, and a grand roast on Christmas Day, nothing tops the Feast of the Seven Fishes. (My aunt’s biscotti and Venetian cookies are a close second.)
Allrecipes/Abbey Littlejohn
Some of My Favorite Feast of the Seven Fishes Recipes
Need some inspiration for your own Feast of the Seven Fishes? This is what I’ll be making this year:
Buon Natale a tutti, and may the Feast be with you, too.
