This is One Thing, a column with tips on how to live.
There’s a certain comfort in the predictability of holiday food. Thanksgiving is designated for turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and green bean casserole. Easter is lamb and ham, with spring vegetables like asparagus and green beans making their entrance. Summer occasions like July Fourth summon burgers, hot dogs, potato salad, and corn. However, Christmas is, ironically for all the lights, in a bit of a gray area. There isn’t some set, one-protein-fits-all solution; some people do ham, some do beef, some lunatics run turkey back. There isn’t a predetermined list of side dishes to accommodate these proteins, either. Christmas, I feel, needs a little direction. It needs a theme. I happen to have one that solves everything, and it is one you can absolutely pull off with only minimal time and planning—same day even, if it comes down to it. This year, we’re doing Steakhouse Christmas.
Growing up, my family’s racket this time of year was all too obvious—swap the Thanksgiving turkey out for ham, then just keep all of the sides the same. It’s why Christmas dinner never stood out to me as a kid. It always felt like an afterthought, a hastily conceived hangover meal, especially in the wake of a late-night Italian American Christmas Eve teeming with unique, once-in-a-year dishes like linguine and clams, fried smelts, and squid.
I mean, Thanksgiving is right in Christmas’ rearview mirror like the T. Rex in Jurassic Park, and so a pivot needs to be made at the dinner table. Enter the classic American steakhouse menu. With poultry and pork already possessing a time and place on the holiday calendar, the move on Christmas is decidedly beef. Start with prime rib, a formidable centerpiece and a showstopping stunner that deserves the spotlight once a year. Tender, rich, fatty, and juicy, prime rib is arguably the best cut of beef there is, so do it right and go big. Grab a bone-in prime rib (¾ pound per person is just fine), season generously and as early as you can, and look at the reverse searing method to properly regulate temperature. Serious Eats published a 13 Rules for Perfect Prime Rib that’s a great guide.
Once you fully embrace the steakhouse ethos, formulating the sides against this beefy backdrop is easy. Potatoes of any persuasion, from the simple to the fussy (garlic mashed, redskin, au gratin, and Lyonnaise are all great); parkerhouse rolls; salads with Caesar dressing or blue cheese; roasted vegetables; creamy greens loaded with cheese; and decadent crustaceans for appetizers. The steakhouse, one of the great, glitzy restaurant experiences, brought to the most sparkling holiday. It just makes too much sense.
As I write this, my own personal Christmas menu has taken shape. Scribbled on a piece of printer paper, I’ve mapped out the dinner chronologically, starting with shrimp cocktail, artichoke spinach dip, and clams casino as appetizers. That big hunk of bone-in prime rib served with horseradish sauce will act as the dinner’s nucleus. Around it, classic steakhouse accoutrements like creamed spinach, Potatoes Dauphinoise, mac and cheese, and thick chunks of iceberg lettuce with blue cheese, jammy tomatoes, and bacon lardon. Of course there will be a red-sauce dish (manicotti), but don’t look askance: Italian American food has infiltrated more steakhouses than you think. Meatballs, pasta, and garlic bread are found at many steakhouses across the country.
I feel enthused and galvanized just thinking about this dinner, which has not been the case in Christmases past. I’m done feeling apathetic about this meal. Done letting other people lazily trot out Thanksgiving 2.0. Christmas deserves something spectacular and bespoke. So join me: Do a Steakhouse Christmas, and you’ll quickly discover that the pair are a match made in holiday heaven.
