THE PERANAKANNyonya Sharon Wee reminisces seasons of family joy – and a turkey in the bathroom!
Because Singapore was a British colony and populated by many Christians and Catholics, Christmas has always been a very merry season for everyone.
Whereas Chinese New Year was full of dutiful observances, Christmas was truly family time of a different dimension and took on even more significance as more of our family became Christian.
I did not witness the 1950s and 60s when my parents and older sisters celebrated the season at Loyang, just east of the famous Changi Airport. They spent time there with our neighbours from Yarrow Gardens, Aunty Paddy and Uncle Chou, along with his relatives. My sisters regale about the fun times when my father would jet-ski onto the beach dressed as Father Christmas, bearing gifts for all the children. I can only imagine he must have looked quite cool. In return, the girls, which included Aunty Paddy’s daughter Eleanor, would put on a concert featuring a hula dance and a performance of Ikan Kekek, a popular Malay song. My sisters also reminisce about the Christmas decorations at the grand old Robinsons department store at Raffles Place and lament its demise when a tragic fire engulfed the majestic building in 1972.
By the time I came around, the parts of Loyang where my family holidayed had made way for airport runways and two of my sisters had moved to London. We still decorated our tall (fake) Christmas tree and the highlight for me was to tag along with my parents to the home of our family friends, the Browns.
They always had their delectable spread of Eurasian specialties such as “curry devil”, honey-baked ham which probably came from Cold Storage, poached salmon and sugee cake. Aunty Brown always lit the room with such radiant joy and gaiety while Uncle Brown tended to the bar he had installed in his living room. While my mother gifted her with her home-baked goods which included pineapple tarts and fruit cake, Aunty Brown always returned the favour with a tall hamper filled with chocolates, Danish cookies and other treats.
Christmas was so central to our family life that my sister even held her wedding on Boxing Day in 1976. Imagine switching from having Aunty Brown’s buffet on the 25th, only to have babi panggang and a full Tok Panjang catered by the Hainanese chong po, Ah Heng, the day after, complete with a parade of wawaks, bibiks and matriarchs hovering over the table at lunchtime. So laujiat! And of course, there was the Tuang Teh ceremony that preceded lunch and my mother fussing about in her sarong kebaya.
There was one December when my father drove home with a live turkey, boxed up at the back of his car. The big bird strutted around in our backyard when it was released, and his gobbling sounds disturbed our neighbours. We had to relocate him to the guest bathroom where he went on to soil the entire room. My mother was somewhat stumped about what to do with the turkey. It went beyond her Nyonya repertoire. She did what she knew best – pluck, chop up, and deep-fry the bird.
Those were low-key Christmas celebrations until my sister Beng Choo returned home from London in 1979. She brought home the traditions she had learnt from her years in England, and these were augmented by those of my sister Maggie who came back from London two years later. Christmas became especially charming for the entire family and it was from Beng’s dinner celebrations that I personally picked up so many of what are now part of my own family traditions. Beng roasted her turkey, adapting from a classic Cordon Bleu cookbook. Her cooking tip was “Butter under the armpits and bacon across the breast.” I think about the warmth that emanated from Beng’s oven and the roasting turkey aroma that contrasted sharply from my mother’s spicy kitchen during Chinese New Year.
By the time I left Singapore, the family expanded with more grandchildren and Maggie began to organise a Christmas potluck and Molly organised games of Bingo. There was ham from the Cricket Club, Beng’s turkey, and Nan’s salads. My mother became known for her exceptional mince pies.
We did not realise the extent to which my mother looked forward to Christmas, until she kept asking her doctors if she could return home for the celebrations back in 2001.
When I look at the annual family photo taken in Singapore, beside the food spread on the table, I see the joy and happiness expressed in everyone’s faces and I know that even across the globe, our family ties always connect through food. For several years, school and work dictated that I needed to stay put in New York. I have learnt to cultivate my own traditions in New York, but my thoughts are never far from my family in Singapore. One year, my niece’s obliging boyfriend arrived at our festivities carrying a four kilo beef fillet from my butcher, along with a smoked pork butt from the neighbourhood supermarket. It was his first trip to meet everyone, and my sisters received him with open arms. Whether they were more excited about the meat, or the boy, we will never know.
He has since married into our family; food never fails to charm.
Adapted from “Growing Up in a Nonya Kitchen”, courtesy Sharon Wee. ©2023
