It's not just about celebrating the birth of Jesus, but about everyone sitting together, even if you hardly ever see each other during the year, and sharing the best things the house has to offer.
SANTO DOMINGO – Today is no ordinary Sunday. Today, December 21st, the same phrase is heard in thousands of Dominican homes: “We have to go buy the ingredients for dinner.” From early morning, the refrigerator, the pantry, the cupboard, the drawers—wherever food is stored—is meticulously inspected.
A notebook lies on the table so that nothing is forgotten, and the list grows longer as each person writes down their preferences, and at some point someone recites it as if it were a poem.
If it had been in the 60s, 70s, or 80s, the younger ones would probably have been hanging out on the corner until dawn, after receiving a Christmas bonus, drinking ginger tea made on three stones in a huge tin or pot. Even the police cars would be honking their horns, while the kids sat in a circle telling stories and laughing uproariously.
Because in the Dominican Republic, Christmas Eve isn't improvised. It's planned. It's discussed. People remember how it was done last year, how their parents and grandparents did it, and, of course, they critique how their sister-in-law did it. Lasagna is one of the most dangerous dishes to bring when it's your turn, because if it's left on the table, it means nobody liked it.
Getting back to the topic. Today officially marks the beginning of the long eve of Christmas Eve, a tradition that extends far beyond the night of the 24th and carries profound cultural weight: food as the perfect excuse to gather family, friends, neighbors, and even new boyfriends and girlfriends, in a ritual where we reaffirm who we are.
A tradition with social and emotional significance.
For Dominicans, Christmas Eve is not just a religious date, the eve of the birth of Jesus Christ. It is, above all, a social ritual, as sociologist Dagoberto Tejeda Ortiz explained in an interview published in Diario Libre in December 2018.
Dagoberto said that Christmas Eve dinner “serves as a space for reaffirming family and community bonds, where Spanish and Catholic heritages blend with local practices adapted to the Caribbean.”
In other words, it’s not just about waiting for and celebrating the birth of Jesus, but about everyone sitting down together, even if they barely see each other during the year, and sharing the best the house has to offer… starting with the pork and, of course, the rum and beer.
From Sunday until the 24th,
take a moment to observe and notice the clear activity. People are coming and going from the market, the supermarket, and the butcher shop. They buy the essential ingredients and leave the last-minute freshness for later. You can’t go into the supermarket. There’s no parking, there are long lines to pay, and if they make good bread or roast pork… be prepared if you didn’t make a reservation.
Yes, because while most people used to cook, these days many don't have time for blended seasonings, marinating for several days, and then baking all day. And there are supermarket chains that certainly have very good quality roasted pork with excellent local flavor.
Being Dominicans, we can't make things easy. One of our staples is pastel en hoja (a type of tamale). But making it at home is a process that often takes more than a day due to its complexity, and given the lack of time, many people prefer to buy them and freeze them.
There are some dishes that can't be made in an afternoon. There are recipes that require patience, long conversations, several hands helping—or getting in the way, depending on the case—and drinks served in the kitchen.
The hustle and bustle
Today, Sunday, is the day to wash cars, to go to the hairdresser (although some will prefer to get up early on the 24th to have beautiful hair without the smell of seasonings), and to the barber. It's the day some will escape to look for a pig in Yamasá; others, more creative, will crave guinea fowl and will go out to find it no matter what, because they don't want the frozen kind from the supermarket. Or perhaps they want goat and will see them along the road to Hatillo.
The markets will be more crowded than usual today. There will be lines at the butcher shops, greengrocers will raise prices on everything (whether you go to the Livestock Fair or Merca Santo Domingo), and if you don't go early, you'll get stuck with bad luck, which nobody wants.
To keep you entertained
Here's a recipe for Dominican-style pork leg, a truly homemade one, the kind that isn't signed by any famous chef, but is repeated by heart in many kitchens across the country, with measurements almost "by eye" and home tricks.
This is the version that's usually passed down from mothers to daughters, from aunts to nephews, and that appears every December, although less and less frequently. This recipe is an invitation to keep this tradition alive.
Roast Pork Leg, Dominican Style (Homemade Recipe)
Ingredients
1 pork leg (between 5 and 7 pounds, preferably with skin)
1 large head of garlic
1 large onion
2 Cubanelle peppers
5 tasty little chili peppers
Juice of 6 to 8 sour oranges (if unavailable, mix orange juice with lemon)
Juice of one or two lemons,
2 tablespoons of dried oregano
2 tablespoons of dried thyme.
1 tablespoon of black pepper.
Salt to taste.
1/2 cup of oil (corn or canola).
1/2 cup of red wine or Dominican rum (optional, but very common).
1 tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce or soy sauce (a modern trick, but very common at home).
Preparation:
1. Shave the entire pork leg very well and wash it with sour orange and a little baking soda. If it smells too strong, you can add a generous splash of mustard.
2. Blend all the ingredients together (one cup of sour orange juice) and set aside the lemon juice.
3. Prepare the pork leg: with a thin, very sharp knife, make deep holes all over it, reaching down to the bone.
4. Carefully place the marinade into each hole using a small spoon, a piping bag, or even your fingers. Use any excess marinade to coat the outside of the pork leg. Wear surgical gloves to prevent your hands from smelling of garlic for up to a week.
Cover tightly and refrigerate for at least 24 hours, though ideally 2 or 3 days, turning the pork once a day for even marinating.
5. Remove the pork leg from the refrigerator at least one hour before cooking. For tenderness and thorough cooking, the pork should be roasted for one hour per pound of meat at a moderate temperature (180 degrees Celsius).
If you prefer it that way, that's perfectly fine. But here's my trick: place the meat in a pot with half of the marinade liquid. Cook it covered for at least 4 hours over the lowest heat, turning it every hour. Don't turn it during the last hour. If necessary (with this cooking method, it's almost never needed), add a little of the marinade liquid and cover again.
6. Baking: Carefully place the meat in a deep baking dish, skin side up, and bake in a preheated oven at 180 degrees Celsius (350 degrees Fahrenheit), covered with aluminum foil, for an hour and a half. (If you like, add thinly sliced potatoes to the baking dish; they'll make a nice side dish.)
Turn the oven up to 220 degrees Celsius (425 degrees Fahrenheit). Once it reaches that temperature, remove the foil, squeeze lemon juice over the meat, and let it cook for another 20 to 30 minutes. (This squeeze of lemon will make the skin crispier, so test it with a knife.) The meat is now ready (you can check if the bone comes away easily). This last bit is just to get the skin
perfectly crispy. Serve with whatever you like, and enjoy! If there are any leftovers, don't worry, the next day is for reheating... and that's a whole other story.
