We asked for your favourite holiday food memories. You delivered | Canada Voices

Nothing brings people together for the holidays quite like food. Whether you’re celebrating a cultural event or simply huddling with friends and family to get out of the cold, there’s always a home-cooked (or store-bought, we’re not judging) meal to tie everything together.

But while we think fondly on the meals that brought us together, the memories that stick with us for years are always about the people themselves.

Earlier this month, we asked readers and Globe staffers to share their favourite holiday food memories with us. From recipes passed down through generations to sneaky dogs and boozy dessert fires, here’s what you shared with us.

Alex (Sandy) Cameron, Etobicoke, Ont.

In the fall of 1969, at the age of 13, my parents moved me, my brother, and my sister from Edmonton to Toronto.

We were used to having lots of extended family to celebrate Christmas with. But in this new environment we needed new traditions. We do a big traditional Christmas dinner on Christmas Day, which I love, and I could talk about turkey and dressing and vegetables and all of that stuff.

But I think our family tradition of barbecued hamburgers on Christmas Eve is a bit unique. I have been outside on some very cold, very windy and very snowy Christmas Eves. I love barbecued hamburgers and I think the ones barbecued on Christmas Eve are the tastiest.

Pippa Norman, business reporter

Every year, my grandmother would make an incredibly dense Christmas pudding, a sweet, steamed British desert akin to a fruitcake. My grandmother isn’t known in our family as the greatest cook but there are a handful of items she particularly excels at, and Christmas pudding is one of them.

Her (not so) secret ingredient, of course, is booze. A lot of it. Every year, after pouring more than a reasonable amount of brandy onto her pudding, she would carry it in from the kitchen to great fanfare as we all cheered for the flaming desert.

Typically, the pud would extinguish shortly after it was set down and, to keep the fun alive, my grandma would douse it in even more brandy and re-light it.

Except what she hadn’t thought through this particular year was the array of ornaments she had hung from her light fixture directly above the dining table. Whoosh! They, too, went up in flames. While the family’s quick-thinking saved the table and those of us around it, the fruitcake didn’t taste quite the same that year with the occasional crunch of burnt ornament scattered throughout.

Elaine Muise Harris, St. John’s

Our five children despised turnip, but they liked turnip casserole. This turnip dish looks appetizing, is easy and economical to prepare and it can be made ahead of time, making it a holiday favourite.

One Christmas Eve, I prepared it and I was in the process of storing it in the extra fridge downstairs. When the phone rang, I placed the casserole on a cupboard next to the fridge and raced upstairs. I returned 5 minutes later only to discover Barney, our Crazy for Human Cuisine Beagle, balancing himself on the toenails of his hind legs and stretched like a Sensory Fidget Toy, furiously lapping up the Turnip Casserole. Needless to say, our family’s favourite Holiday Food Memory is of Barney Beagle eating our Turnip Casserole.

Sierra Bein, Newsletter editor

For me, Christmas is all about cold food. My dad’s side of the family brings their Baltic Sea traditions to the table, most often in the form of things pickled and preserved. Think charcuterie, but also with seafood. Cheese and cold salads are a big deal too, for example a mixture of pickled beet, herring, and sour cream might sound unappetizing but it’s my favourite thing to put on warm toast.

This is a huge contrast from my other side of the family where Caribbean spice and sweets are king.

But back to the cold stuff. This seafood charcuterie spread is already special to me every year, but my grandmother would do a little something extra for the grandkids. She would take a boiled egg, dressed with a black olive on top and olive slices on the side, to make it look like a little penguin. She’d thinly cut carrots to give them a beak and feet – it added a touch of whimsy to our plates.

Listen, I know that I’m saying a boiled egg is my favourite food memory. I don’t even like boiled eggs, so I would almost never finish it in one sitting. But this extra act of love to make these cute little animals, even into our adult years, was a small reminder that we’re still children to them. She doesn’t cook our Christmas dinner anymore, but I’ll definitely be bringing the penguins to the next generation. And if they don’t like the boiled egg, we can devil them.

Jacob Dubé, Community Editor

My large French-Canadian family often swap who hosts for the holidays, travelling further and further north on Ontario’s Highway 11.

When I was a preteen, our Christmas gathering was at my grandfather’s house in Smooth Rock Falls, Ont. My dad was in the kitchen, helping prepare for dinner, when he accidentally sliced his finger open with a knife while cutting vegetables. He was taken to the infirmary to get bandaged up, but we were assured he would be okay.

When he returned, to lighten the mood, all the kids shoved their arms in their sleeves, and walked around pretending they were cut off, just like my dad’s had been. We were able to turn a dramatic scene into a funny memory that we still tease him about to this day.

Beth Jay, Halfmoon Bay, B.C.

My best holiday food memory is all about the baked goodies I only make at Christmas.

My favourites include shortbread cookies, almond crackle, chocolate shortbread, and walnut crescents, and any new recipes I decide to try.

Then I buy festive paper plates, assemble an assortment on each plate, wrap in a cellophane bag and give as Christmas gifts.

Helga Rausch, Kingston, Ont.

The Advent and Christmas season filled my childhood home with gorgeous scents – the balsam fir of our Advent wreath and tree, mandarins and baking. My mother’s signature oeuvre was her mandelrolle, or almond roll, her delicious variation on the traditional Christmas stollen. She brought the recipe along with nostalgia for Weihnachten in her homeland when she immigrated to Canada in 1951.

Her mandelrolle was unapologetically decadent. The filling was a mixture of ground almonds, melted butter, and sugar. This was rolled into a yeast dough, exposed by two slits down its length and baked till bubbling and golden brown. The finishing touch was a drizzled glaze of icing sugar and milk. Mutti’s recipe made two rolls. She sliced them thinly to last the season, but they never did.

After Mutti passed away, my brother took it upon himself to continue the tradition. We searched fruitlessly for a written version tucked in her old cookbooks but it seemed to have existed only in her head. So, he recreated it from memory. Though not quite the way Mutti made it, his mandelrolle was still devourable. Content to let my brother take it on as his signature Christmas baking opus, I never attempted it.

A couple of Christmases ago, my nephew launched us on a new search for the original recipe and my sister finally found a written version with her mother-in-law. It was the only time our mother had written it down. My nephew found a woodworker to etch Mutti’s handwritten recipe onto a cutting board for his dad. My brother cried when he unwrapped it. That Christmas, we agreed that he had finally mastered Mutti’s mandelrolle.

Both my brother and my sister have since passed away, and now I am all that’s left of my childhood family. Christmas is complicated: grief and loneliness intersect with joy. So, it was with a catch in my voice that I asked my nephew over the phone if he was planning to try the mandelrolle recipe.

“Of course,” he answered quietly.

I think I will, too.

Submissions have been edited for length and clarity.

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