Years ago Christmas Eve included a visit to my father's mother, who lived first on Meridian Street, not far from the bridge, and then on Eutaw Street. I didn't see that side of the family as often as my mother's side -- even though everyone lived in East Boston -- so it was a chance to catch up with some relatives, and my grandmother treated me like a king, being that I was the only male among her seven grandchildren.
Grandma and her second husband put out traditional southern Italian fish dishes (including calamari, baccala, lobster and quahogs) on Christmas Eve -- known as the Feast of the Seven Fishes -- though at the time I didn't eat much fish, confining myself to shrimp and my step-grandfather's pizza. My dad and grandmother passed away years ago, but I have fond memories of the holidays (we sometimes went there for Easter as well) spent at her house, and I wish that my family carried on the fish tradition. I would happily try every one.