by Steven Doyle
I have plenty of Jewish friends and several have invited me to their traditional Christmas dinner, which is sweet and I thank them. I will probably accept one or all of those invites, but curiously there will be no dry turkey, cranberries or pumpkin pie for that matter. Most include a trip to the local Chinese restaurant for that truly traditional Christmas meal.
This odd tradition might date as far back as the day before Jesus was born, where there was no room at the inn — or a decent restaurant open late that night. Perhaps the only choice in Bethlehem was the local Chinese restaurant serving up kung pao or General Tso chicken and those little dumplings that have been seared in schmaltz to a fine crisp. Continue reading