December. Christmas approaching. The year that tried to break everything is ending and the decorating begins.
Lily put up the tree. Emma strung lights. Tyler hung them on the porch — year five, still crooked. The crookedness is now a permanent feature, like the wobbly table leg, like my bad knee, like Ma's post-COVID pho. Imperfect things that we love because they're ours.
Christmas shopping, pandemic edition: mostly online. Tyler gets a diagnostic scan tool for his car work — the professional grade kind that HCC uses. Emma gets a stage-grade chef's knife — a Misono UX10, Japanese steel, $150, the kind of knife that separates hobbyists from professionals. Lily gets a camera — a real one, not a phone — because her content has outgrown phone photography.
Ma gets a new ao dai. I commissioned it from a Vietnamese seamstress in Midtown — traditional style, deep red, embroidered with golden phoenixes. Ma hasn't had a new ao dai in twenty years. She wears the old one on Tet and it's threadbare. The new one will hang in her closet next to the old one, and she'll rotate them, because Mai Tran doesn't discard things. She accumulates.
I keep thinking about the restaurant. The space sits on Washington Avenue, locked, waiting. David Chen calls monthly: "Bobby, are you still in?" I say, "I'm still in." He says, "The space will be ready when you are." He's patient. The space is patient. I'm not patient — I'm restless. I want to build. I want to open. I want to hang the sign.
But the world isn't ready. The vaccines are coming but they're not here. Restaurants are still struggling. The timing is wrong.
Or the timing is perfect — because when the world opens up, people will be starving for restaurants. Starving for community. Starving for a place to sit and eat and be together. And Bobby Tran BBQ will be ready.
Spring 2021. That's the target. Three months. Build-out resumes in January. Open by April or May. If the vaccine rollout goes well. If the cases drop. If the fire keeps burning.
The fire keeps burning. It always keeps burning.
When the tree goes up and the porch lights go crooked again and the whole house smells like this season we’ve been clawing our way toward — what you need isn’t a project. You need something you can set in the slow cooker before the decorating starts and come back to when everyone’s tired and the lights are finally on. This Christmas punch is exactly that: warm, a little tart, a little sweet, and ready whenever you are. Ma’s in her chair, Tyler’s on the porch, the restaurant is three months out and the fire is still burning — this is what we drink while we wait for everything to be ready.
Slow-Cooker Christmas Punch
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 2 hours 30 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 40 minutes | Servings: 10
Ingredients
- 4 cups cranberry juice cocktail
- 4 cups apple cider
- 1 cup orange juice
- 1 cup pineapple juice
- 1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
- 3 cinnamon sticks
- 1 teaspoon whole cloves
- 1/2 teaspoon whole allspice berries
- 1 medium orange, thinly sliced
- 1 lemon, thinly sliced
Instructions
- Combine the liquids. Pour the cranberry juice, apple cider, orange juice, and pineapple juice into a 5- or 6-quart slow cooker. Stir in the brown sugar until mostly dissolved.
- Add the spices. Place the cinnamon sticks, whole cloves, and allspice berries directly into the slow cooker. For easier cleanup, you can tie the cloves and allspice in a small piece of cheesecloth first.
- Add the citrus. Float the orange and lemon slices on top of the punch. They’ll release their oils as the punch heats and make the kitchen smell like Christmas.
- Heat low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 2 to 3 hours, until the punch is steaming and fragrant throughout. Do not boil.
- Taste and adjust. Before serving, taste the punch and stir in an additional tablespoon or two of brown sugar if you prefer it sweeter. Remove the cheesecloth spice bundle if used, or strain before ladling.
- Serve warm. Ladle into mugs and garnish each with a fresh cinnamon stick or a slice of orange. Keep the slow cooker on the WARM setting throughout your gathering.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 115 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 29g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 18mg
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 239 of Bobby’s 30-year story
· Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.