Festivus Page 3

  toothpick

  paper

  glue stick

  marker

  INSTRUCTIONS

  Sign:

  Cut a piece of paper into a rectangle that is one inch by two inches. Fold it in half into a square. Write “Festivus Yes! Bagels No!” so that the folded edge is on top. Rub the glue stick on the inside of the folded paper, then fold it back over the toothpick and seal on both sides.

  Potting Mini-Pole:

  Follow the directions on the plaster of Paris box for mixing the amount of plaster you need. Pour into the pot. Quickly insert the nail into the pot (with the sharp point first so that the party favor can’t be used as a weapon if the Grievance Airing gets out of hand) and hold it in place till the plaster dries. If you have made a sign, insert it immediately after you insert the nail. Hold both in place while the plaster dries.

  Tinsel

  Is Forbidden on Festivus. Too distracting, they say.

  The tinsel industry will survive the indignity, says Marcia Ceppos, owner of the Tinsel Trading Company in New York City. “Tinsel was used going back to the 1700s,” Ceppos notes. It’s still used now. Designers such as Ralph Lauren, Elie Tahari, and Nanette Lepore have sewn Ceppos’s tinsel into their recent clothing lines. Fly fishermen also use it to craft lures.

  Anyway, sighs Steven Soprano, store manager of Holiday Tree and Trim in Bayonne, New Jersey, the increasing number of people who celebrate the holidays with artificial trees have been shunning tinsel for years. With the natural trees people used in earlier eras, tinsel gets thrown away when the dried-out tree is tossed, requiring new tinsel to be purchased every year. But with fake trees that are reused annually, one application of tinsel last forever. “You put the stuff on there,” Soprano says, “it’s going to be a pain to take off there.”

  Soprano says he’s not scared of losing a few more tinsel sales to Festivus. “We may get stuck with the product,” he says, “but we’ll probably use it to decorate around here.”

  Festivus Cards

  For years, there were no commercially available Festivus cards, spurring regular folk to burst forth with creative greetings and party invitations. Eventually, Noble Works, a New Jersey-based gag card maker, had the idea to come out with a Festivus line. They used a dollop of content from the first edition of this book—and paid the author a pittance. Which is only fair since sales of the cards have only been “OK,” according to Noble Works owner Ron Kanfi. The company has done better with their other lines, such as one in which vegetables are pictured dressed up in human garb. A particular charmer shows an avocado staring at two ears of corn pictured on a computer screen. The caption: “Kevin spent the entire day downloading corn from the internet.”

  Hallmark has yet to weigh in on Festivus.

  Homespun Festivus Greetings

  The Human Fund, the Festivus Fruitcake, and other Gifts

  One of the attributes of Festivus is that there are no required gifts, no expected gifts, and, usually, no gifts at all.

  On the Festivus episode of Seinfeld, the character George Costanza dreams up a fake charity called The Human Fund as a way to give people he doesn’t care about a gift that costs him nothing. He hands office mates a card informing each that a donation has been made in his or her name to the fund. The card explains: “The Human Fund: Money for People.”

  Many real-world Festivites simply copy Costanza, handing out Human Fund cards. Others do give actual gifts. These have included used ChapSticks left in pockets from long-ago ski trips, balky handcuffs, and annoying talking dolls—all of which seem to establish a universal Festivus gift creed: Give only something you don’t want that you expect the recipient doesn’t want either.

  Nothing, of course, is considered more useless and unwanted than a fruitcake. Here is a card that the operator of one Festivus Web site has developed for elevating any regular fruitcake into a Festivus Fruitcake.

  SECTION 3

  The Foods and Drinks of Festivus

  Fun, surliness, and creativity: These apparent essences of twenty-first-century Festivus are on view in what the holiday sends to the stomach. Here are some recipes developed by the Festivus-forward and details about ongoing food fights, including the nasty Beer Wars of Festivus.

  Recipes

  The following four recipes, created for this book, were dreamed up, styled, photographed, and described by Anna Gershenson, a caterer in Sudbury, Massachusetts, and Gabriella Gershenson, a professional food writer in New York, New York.

  Shrimp Impaled on Mini Festivus Poles

  Wait until a good number of guests have arrived and walk out of the kitchen carrying this while announcing the name of the dish. Stunned silence will be followed by an outburst of group glee, screams of hilarity, praises of your cleverness, and, finally, satisfied palates—because this appetizer is delicious.

  2 pounds shrimp

  1 cup apricot jam

  3 tablespoons horseradish

  3 tablespoons whole grain mustard

  2 teaspoons chili sauce with garlic

  2 tablespoons lemon juice

  1 teaspoon salt

  2 tablespoons baking soda

  20 3-inch stainless steel nails, or as many as you plan to use

  rubbing alcohol

  1.Use either good-quality frozen cooked-and-peeled shrimp or cook raw shrimp according to your favorite recipe. Chill well before serving.

  2.For the dipping sauce: In a small saucepan, warm up the apricot jam over low heat. Stir continuously until the jam has thinned out.

  3.Add the horseradish, mustard, and chili sauce. Stir to combine.

  4.Remove from heat. Add the lemon juice and salt to taste. Serve sauce warm in a glass bowl with steep edges.

  Preparing the nails:

  1.Fill a pot with water 2 inches deep. Add the baking soda and nails. Bring to a boil. Maintain the boil for 10 minutes.

  2.Remove the nails from the pot and rinse with cold water. Set to dry on a paper towel.

  3.Moisten a fresh piece of paper towel with alcohol and thoroughly clean as many nails as you plan to use.

  Assembling the dish:

  1.Skewer the shrimp so that the top of the nail protrudes from the top of the body.

  2.Place the impaled shrimp on the edge of the dip bowl, clipping them into place with the heads on the inside of the bowl and the nails on the outside.

  Feats of Strength Fondue with Festivus Beer

  Festivus can easily be vegetarian-friendly. The nose-curling ripeness of the cheeses in this fondue will put to shame anyone who dares call vegetarians “wimps.”

  1 pound Emmentaler

  1 pound Blue Castello or other creamy blue cheese

  5 teaspoons cornstarch

  1 cup hearty beer (see pp. 44-49 for where to acquire Festivus beer, or use a marker to write the words “Special Festivus Brew” below the brand name on your favorite can or bottle)

  3 garlic cloves, finely grated

  1 teaspoon grated nutmeg

  1 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper

  1 teaspoon water

  1.Grate the Emmentaler and break the blue cheese into small chunks. Keep the cheeses separate. (Preferably on opposite sides of the room. They may start to wrestle if brought together too soon.)

  2.Sprinkle 2 teaspoons of the cornstarch on each of the cheeses. Toss to coat evenly.

  3.Prepare a heavy 1-quart saucepan. Pour in the beer, and add the grated garlic and spices.

  4.Place the saucepan over medium heat. When the beer mixture is hot but not boiling, slowly add the cheeses, alternating between Emmentaler and blue. Mix with a wooden spoon. Make sure to add cheese in small quantities and that it has melted before adding more. (Adding too quickly will result in lumping.)

  5.Stir the mixture vigorously to achieve a smooth consistency. After all the cheese has been incorporated, dissolve the remaining 1 teaspoon of the cornstarch in 1 teaspoon water. Add to the cheese mixture, and cook together for a minute or two to bind. Whe
n it’s sufficiently thick and uniform, transfer the mixture to a fondue pot.

  6.Potatoes, sweet potatoes, crusty sourdough bread cubes, and string beans are fine candidates for dipping.

  Ham with Junior Mint and Snapple Glaze

  Not that there’s anything wrong with a nice pig rump. This one, a surprisingly scrumptious and undeniably beautiful creation, is glazed with two “foods” that were used as plot devices on episodes of Seinfeld.

  Get your ham and closely follow the instructions on the package. Forty-five minutes before the ham is done cooking, remove it from the oven to apply the glaze.

  Glaze for a 5-pound ham:

  1 16-ounce bottle Mango Madness Snapple

  1 cup golden rum

  1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar

  1 teaspoon sweet paprika

  1 teaspoon chili paste with garlic

  32 Junior Mints, slightly crushed

  1 cup strained apricot jam

  1.In a heavy skillet, place all the ingredients except the Junior Mints and apricot jam. Bring the mixture to boil over high heat, mixing until the sugar is dissolved. Reduce heat to medium high and cook for 20 minutes or longer, until the mixture is reduced to the consistency of maple syrup. You will end up with about 2/3 cup.

  2.Place the Junior Mints in a small heavy skillet over low heat. When the candies start to melt, mix with a wooden spoon until they form a smooth paste. At this stage, add the reduced syrup and apricot jam. Combine well. Continue mixing and cooking over medium heat for another 5 to 7 minutes, until the glaze coats the spoon.

  3.If you make the glaze in advance, rewarm it before applying to the ham.

  Instructions for glazing:

  1.Place a sheet of foil on the bottom of the roasting pan to catch run-off glaze.

  2.Spoon the glaze over the ham, making sure to coat the entire surface.

  3.Reapply the glaze two more times at 15-minute intervals.

  Festivus pole Stuffed with Chocolate Salami and Bitter Nibs

  This sliceable aluminum “pole” pays homage to the joy that can come from pondering the bitterness of life.

  4 ounces tea biscuits or plain butter cookies

  2 egg yolks

  1 cup sugar

  1 stick unsalted butter

  1 cup cocoa

  2 tablespoons orange liqueur, such as Triple Sec or Grand Marnier

  3 ounces ginger snaps

  2 tablespoons Scharffen Berger bitter cocoa nibs

  18-by-12-inch piece aluminum foil butcher’s twine, optional

  1.Seal the cookies in a plastic bag and smash them with a bottle, Festivus pole stump, or a rolling pin until the pieces are no bigger than 1 inch.

  2.In a bowl, vigorously mix the egg yolks with the sugar until the mixture turns thick and pale yellow. Set aside.

  3.Cut the butter into 1 - inch cubes and place on a cold skillet over low heat. Work the solid pieces into the melting butter with a wooden spoon or your fingers until the butter is soft but not liquid. Remove from heat.

  4.In a bowl, combine the egg mixture, butter, and remaining ingredients until the mixture holds shape.

  5.Place the aluminum foil on a firm surface. Transfer your mixture to the foil and form a long sausage about 14 inches long and 2 inches in diameter. Place the sausage on the near end of the foil, about three inches from the edge. Roll the sausage tightly in the aluminum foil. Twist the ends of the foil as if it were a real salami. Make sure that your roll is compact and there are no air pockets. If you wish, tie the ends with butcher’s twine as decoration.

  6.Refrigerate for 5 hours. Slice and serve. Keep any leftovers refrigerated.

  COCKTAILS

  Don’t Make Me punch you Punch

  Created by Julianne Donovan, host of an annual Festivus party in Kansas City, Missouri.

  big bowl and ladle

  fifth of light rum

  2 liters ginger ale

  12 limes, juiced

  a few dashes of Angostura bitters

  ice

  Combine all the ingredients over ice in punch bowl and stir. Recommended to be served after the Airing of Grievances.

  Festivus Shooters

  Created by Jeremy Pollok and Eric “Bernie” Bernstrom, owners of Tonic Bar in Washington, D.C., where this was first served on December 17, 2004, as a $3 special.

  1/2 can Sparks malt liquor energy drink

  2 ounces cheap rum

  2 ounces fruit punch

  splash of Triple Sec

  Combine all ingredients into a drink shaker, shake with ice, and pour into shot glasses. Makes a round of four shots.

  Beer Wars of Festivus

  The three known attempts to distill the essence of Festivus into a beer have, not surprisingly, brewed conflict and controversy. Festivus has always proven to have no essence to distill—except undistill-ability. A cantankerous energy seems to result from efforts to bottle it.

  A homebrew named Festivus in a little Wisconsin town triggered a nasty spat between local Protestants and Catholics; in Maryland, the mere mention of St. Festivus Ale stokes the simmering anger of its Baltimore brewer; and in Arizona a fruity microbrew named Festivus continues to fuel a nasty snit-fit between the former and present owners of a troubled Phoenix brewery.

  Here are dispatches from the three battle-scarred Festivus beer fronts.

  Neenah, Wisconson— Parents at St. Gabriel Elementary School near Appleton ignored complaints there was something unseemly about raising money for the Catholic school’s arts program by hosting a massive beer-drinking festival in the auditorium.

  “There was some concern around the whole general idea of having this fest at the school,” said Mark Van Rossum, parent and member of Appleton Libation enthusiasts (ALE). “But you know they also have fish fries and bingo.”

  ALE’s entry into the homebrewfest was Festivus, a red, hoppy ale inspired by Seinfeld and served from an old-fashioned English beer pump engine. It was the most popular beer at the event attended by about 400 beer drinkers who paid $25 each admission. No brawls were reported at the festival.

  The brawls came later.

  “The Catholic church is the only church that does a lot of fund-raising with alcohol,” griped Pam Garman, a Lutheran who sent a furious letter to a local newspaper after reading about the school’s beer festival. “It’s accepted, but that doesn’t mean it’s right.”

  Betsy Benoit, a Methodist, who, like Garman, did not have a child enrolled in the school, also wrote an angry letter. “What kind of example is that giving to our children?” she fumed.

  Ruffled at the insinuations that her school might spawn a class of fifth-grade alcoholics, St. Gabriel principal Mary Jo Brown was terse. “It was a private thing,” she said, refusing to comment in depth.

  ALE was not so reticent.

  “In Wisconsin,” Van Rossum said, “its part of the lifestyle. And they got permission from the priest.”

  Baltimore, Maryland—During the Baltimore Ravens’ 2000—2001 run through the National Football League playoffs, superstitious coach Brian Billick forbade anyone associated with the team from using the word “playoffs.” As a result, offensive lineman Edwin Multialo came up with an alternative name for the postseason: “Festivus Maximus.”

  The only problem was that two miles from Ravens Stadium, Steve Frazier and Chris Cashell, brewmas-ters at the Brewer’s Art pub, were already serving a winter beer they’d developed two years prior and dubbed “St. Festivus Ale,” a dark intoxicant with hints of bitter curaçao, orange peel, and fresh ginger.

  The Ravens went on to win the Super Bowl and the word “Festivus” will live in the hearts of Baltimore’s citizens forever. “It meant much more than this obscure—to some people—reference to Seinfeld,” says Jeannine Disviscour, who curated the Festivus Maximus Super Bowl exhibition at the Maryland Historical Society in March 2001. “It was this moment for celebrating the Ravens’ win and the city, the whole attempt to bring Baltimore back, Baltimore, the city tha
t had such a high murder rate and so many challenges, that it was a citywide celebration, that this is a place people want to be and want to be a part of—we were celebrating that. That was Festivus.”

  All that feel-good hullabaloo angers the hell out of Frazier every time a fan tromps into his bar and praises him for naming the ale after the historic victory.

  “There was no connection,” Frazier spits, maintaining the he and Cashell were the first to borrow the name from Seinfeld, not the Ravens. Frazier continues to tap the season’s St. Festivus every November—and swears it will fortify him to bash the heads of any lawyers from the Ravens or anywhere else who show up at his bar and start demanding royalties.

  “Moderate drinking of St. Festivus Ale,” he warns, “encourages the Airing of Grievances. Heavy drinking encourages Feats of Strength.”

  Pheonix, Arizona—John Watt, former owner of the Sonora Brewery in Pheonix and creator, in 2002, of a malty ale he dubbed “Festivus,” believes his creation was a huge success.

  “It was very well received,” said Watt, who promoted the ale at a Spring Festivus ‘04 party (which also featured a human gyroscope ride). “It was one of our faster movers.”

  Watt’s assistant brewer at the time, Scott Yarosh, scoffed at his old boss’s memory. “It sold well in October,” Yarosh said. “The rest of the year it didn’t.”

  In 2005, Yarosh bought the brewery from Watt, who moved to Oregon where his new job is repairing automobile glass. For Yarosh, Festivus is finished. “I never really liked the name,” he says. “Because of the Seinfeld connotations. I didn’t want to get into a political thing. If someone wasn’t a fan of Seinfeld, I didn’t want them to not like my beer.”

  Yarosh has different ideas about how to name beers so they’ll sell well. Burning Bird Pale Ale is a name he prefers over Festivus.

  Watt says his former underling was always putting forth terrible marketing ideas. Killing Festivus is another one. “He’s missing an opportunity,” Watt says. “What’s his deal?”

  Yarosh doesn’t care what Watt thinks. “I wouldn’t,” he says, “call him a friend.”

  Crushed Spirits