I am secretly a 60-year-old woman:  In the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas I spend more time than I should decorating our house, including setting up a 30+ piece Christmas village in our dining room.

Acquiring these pieces has been a cultural learning experience, with me wading further into the world of collectibles than I care to admit.  Even so, I am far from welcome in that world.  Venturing into a collectibles shop, I always feel the staff go on high alert, as if the mere presence of testosterone could shatter porcelain figurines.  I am hovered over by wary sales people who refuse to believe that I am not buying that newly-retired Christmas village house for a wife or mother – surely there must be some estrogen somewhere in the equation.

Sadly, no, but a more manly part of the endeavor was the construction of a portable, multi-tier, fully-collapsible display table that can store easily in the off-season – quite an engineering feat if I say so myself.

On the other hand, I have been a miserable failure at the only other manly part of this annual venture:  Turns out it is very difficult to construct a functioning multi-tier model railroad on a display table that is intended to be portable and fully-collapsible.  One time, two years ago, I actually had the train running successfully for a short period of time, only to have it derail in the back of the table under multiple tiers of ornamental houses (where, it turns out, the train was completely inaccessible).  That prompted me to regroup, leaving the train portion of the project until retirement.  Also, I got tired of cutting off the fingers of little children who kept messing with the tracks.

There was a story a week or so ago on public radio – part of a series asking noted chefs what they cook for Thanksgiving.  This particular story focused on a California chef who had been raised on a rice farm in the central valley.  The chef had this extraordinary multi-cultural background that included both Mexican and Cajun influences.  One dish she always cooked was Consommé Rice – a must-serve at every holiday meal.  I was anxious to hear how this elaborate dish was created by this noted chef.  Simple enough:  after browning rice in real butter, add a can of Campbell’s Consommé and cook.

Our Consommé Rice is something we call Bean Dish – I’m confident others have different names for the same delicacy, including, “That Bean Stuff” or “Bean Goop.”  It’s been a staple of our holiday table for 40 years, probably since the recipe first appeared on the back of a Campbell’s Soup can.  Again, very simple:  drain some French-cut green beans, add a can of Campbell’s Golden Mushroom Soup, top with Durkee’s fake onions and heat.

Early in our marriage, Laura and I had a bean dish crisis.  Her family used Cream of Mushroom soup, which I now understand to be the traditional recipe.  Somewhere along the line, in a case of culinary stepping-out, my family had adopted the Golden Mushroom variation.  Being the kitchen control freak/rugged traditionalist, I refused to give in – standing staunchly for the Golden Mushroom variation that once again graced our holiday table this year.

Whether it’s Consommé Rice, Bean Goop, Cheesy Potatoes, or canned jellied cranberries, there is often more to be said for the familiar over the good (or healthy, or fancy).  Like the stange assortment of folks that gather in that collection we call family, the bean dish has its familiar, odd place at the table.

This space is dedicated to more traditional blogging-type conversation — things more in the 200-300 word range — not the 2000 – 3000 word range.  Probably also less polished (assuming one thinks the essays are polished) and more real time.