La Fete de Noel

So wondrous an array of food turned up in la mere Miville-Dechene's kitchen that little Gilles; 10, and Marcel, 9, could scarcely believe their eyes. There were two turkeys, a whole pig's head, great pieces of pork and ham and veal, a beef tongue, fruits, nuts, candy, piles of vegetables and a big jar of olives. Because Mme. Miville-Dechene had done her shopping in snow-mantled Quebec City on Saturday, she had five days to get ready for la fete de Noel--first the big reveillon feast that would follow midnight Mass, and then le diner de Noe at 1 o'clock Christmas afternoon.

Maman, as pretty as ever at 48, thought most about le reveillon. One by one, she cooked the traditional dishes. There was bouillon to thaw the family out when they returned from Mass (the big beef bone was already in the pot). There were tourtieres (spicy pork pies), rillettes (pork tidbits to be eaten with bread or thrown into the mouth like candy), croutons (crusty bread browned in pork fat), twelve dozen sugared beignets (doughnuts), tete a fromage (headcheese). Soon the kitchen, then the whole ten-room apartment on Fraser Street, was fragrant with the odor of spice.

The Galantine. Mme. Miville-Dechene saved her biggest job till last. That was her galantine, made from a generations-old recipe. Deftly she skinned a ten-pound turkey, carefully keeping the skin intact. Then she sewed up the openings, leaving a hole for the stuffing. In went the beef tongue, two pounds each of chopped veal and minced fresh pork, one pound each of salt pork and finely ground ham. Finally she added the turkey meat, cut from the bones, plus turnips, carrots and lots of onions. Tied in a cloth, the galantine was put in water and bay leaves to cook slowly for six hours. After that, she set it out to cool, then garnished it with red gelatine.

While she bustled about the kitchen, M. Paul Miville-Dechene, the Quebec Liquor Commission's chief accountant (at about $5,000 a year), was looking forward to the midnight Mass. A reserve lieutenant colonel and commander of the Regiment de Quebec, le pere had proudly announced that this year they would go to the Citadel Chapel. He knew that at the fortress chapel the children would get a treat--the singing of Minuit, Chretiens, now seldom heard in French Canadian churches,* as well as a Gregorian chant by a soldiers' chorus and the well-loved carols in which they all would join.

The Presents. When la mere was at last free of her cooking, she still had plenty to do. She had to help the older sons, Jean, 24, and Andre, 22, decorate the flat with red paper bells and ribbon, trim the tree with baubles, set up a little creche with an electric light above it. She had to make certain that the maid set the reveillon table with red-candled silver candelabra and the beautiful lace cloth Madame had crocheted herself 25 years ago. Then there were presents.

Her grandparents gave no presents at Noel. But now U.S. and British customs have invaded the old traditions--although the chief gift season is still le jour de Van (New Year's Day). So there were little gifts, mostly for the children, below the tree.

For Mme. Miville-Dechene, it was a busy and wonderful season--but an expensive one. She had spent $50 on Noel for food alone, would spend as much again on le jour de Van. But she was philosophic : "C'est cher. Mais c'est Noel."

* It was banned from church services by the late Cardinal Villeneuve as lacking in musical taste and religious spirit.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.