Comfort foods that make the holidays

Cucumbers
In my family, it’s known simply as “cucumbers.” I have no idea where the recipe came from, but it’s been a part of the family longer than I have, and even has its own designated ceramic bowl.

First, slice cukes and onions Kate Moss-thin. (I use a mandoline for the cukes, but when I tried it for the onions, I nearly had to go to the ER.) Sprinkle with salt to draw out the water, wait an hour, then wring their little necks. (For some reason, this task always fell to my dad, his big ex-Marine hands working the veggies over like a Mafioso.) Drench them with vinegar, sugar and pepper, alternating and tasting, over and over, until you get a spicy, crunchy bite.

Somehow, on a plate piled high with turkey, dressing, cranberries and potatoes, the cucumbers always stake their claim. Stab yourself a forkful of turkey and dressing, and then carefully balance a tangle of cucumbers on top. That’s the taste of the holidays, right there.   —Gael Fashingbauer Cooper

Roast goose
Despite what you might think, the bird Scrooge dispatches to the Cratchits at the end of Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" is ... a turkey. A big turkey. ("He never could have stood upon his legs, that bird.")

But when the Ghost of Christmas Present conjures for Scrooge a vision of the Cratchits feasting, they all marvel at a glorious goose. ("Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the rarest of all birds.") And why not?  Turkey is commonplace, goose is a rare indulgence: rich, dark, succulent.

Though roast goose has a reputation as a Victorian English tradition (hence Dickens), Germany claims equal Christmas credit.  That's probably why my father insisted on it as a Yuletide staple. Not that we formally celebrated, but he adored the elements of German Christmas — right down to the fruit-flecked bread known as stollen.

Hence goose remains a special treat, a sign of bounty in the year's darkest days. Just remember to save the rendered fat, perfect for roasting potatoes all winter long.  —Jon Bonné

Mussels
Hunting for mussels along the California coast is a favorite thing to do around the holidays when we go home. Some years it’s planned, other times a last-minute scramble to get there early enough to beat the incoming tide.

It’s a wet affair for sure, and rain boots are in order, as is lots of willingness to pry the suckers off the rocks and get your hair salty and wind-whipped. Within an hour or less you can easily collect a bucketful.

Back in the kitchen, we scrub them and cook them up fisherman-style — in their own juices with a little garlic and white wine, then pile them into bowls with a bit of the salty broth. We always have an ample amount of crusty bread to go with them and are never shy about slurping the last bits from the shell. The meat is plump and slightly sweet and calls for a cold beer, something dark and spicy like Guinness. Spoon and fork not required. —R.S.

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