It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Nittel Nacht

I'm sorry, a lot like what now? Nittel Nacht? Oh, please. It's Yiddish for Christmas Eve. But if you think the Short Jewish Gal finally broke down and got a Tannenbaum, you'd be mistaken. This pretty tree with all the gifts currently resides in the home of the marrieds and the grandbaby who brings me so much joy, I don't know what to do other than coo, hug and kvell. Given the circumstances we all find ourselves in, my lovely daughter-in-law Chloé...

... seen here looking radiant with Claire, rocking away in a remote lakeside cabin that our family may or may not have built thanks to a "Build Your Own Cabin" kit we found on amazon, can't travel to see her family. She's missing them so much, and the fact that they've yet to meet the baby doesn't help, that I'm trying my best to overcompensate and conjure up a French Christmas Eve. What do I know from Christmas Eve, French or otherwise? Bupkis. But Chloé has guided me, a la Rudolph: the gourmet meal involves seafood and champagne, cheese and baguettes, and French pastries I may or may not be making from scratch, but take a guess and there's your answer. All I know is, whatever lands on my kitchen island will get eaten, and just thinking about that fills me, preemptively, with a bissel holiday glee. At this point, I'll take it.