we might be falling in love - patricio o' ward

christmas with the castillos

December 24th, 2022

Nochebuena was a special day for Puerto Rican households. It's Christmas Eve, except with a massive dinner, going out to parrandas, and at midnight, gifts are exchanged. The main festivities of Christmas were today and the families could not be any more excited.

The preparations for Christmas Eve dinner at the villa were a whirlwind of activity, laughter, and delightful chaos. The kitchen was the epicenter of the action, with everyone pitching in, each contributing their unique touch to the festive feast.

"Astraea, hand me the adobo!" Elba called out, her hands covered in masa as she prepared pasteles.

"Coming right up!" Astraea replied, weaving through the kitchen with a bottle of adobo seasoning.

Pato’s mom was at the stove, expertly flipping tamales while simultaneously stirring a pot of ponche, a traditional Mexican Christmas punch. "Elba, don’t forget to soak the banana leaves! They need to be pliable for wrapping the pasteles."

Elba nodded, quickly dunking the leaves in a large basin of water. "Got it, Mom! Astraea, can you start on the coquito? We need a good batch to keep everyone merry!"

Astraea laughed, pulling out the ingredients for the creamy coconut drink. "On it! I hope you guys are ready for the best coquito you’ve ever had."

In the background, Renzo and Mari were in charge of dessert, but their playful squabbling suggested more fun than productivity. "Renzo, you can’t just eat all the guava paste! We need it for the pastelillos!" Mari exclaimed, snatching the half-eaten roll from his hand.

Renzo grinned sheepishly. "Just making sure it’s good enough for everyone!"

Astraea’s mom, busy with her own batch of arroz con gandules, chuckled at the antics. "You two are worse than kids. If you can’t behave, I’ll put you on dish duty!"

The counter was covered with bowls, spoons, and a dizzying array of ingredients, the air filled with the rich aromas of both Mexican and Puerto Rican cuisine. Pato, meanwhile, was trying to help but mostly getting in the way.

"Need a taste tester?" he asked, trying to sneak a piece of pork from the cutting board.

"Pato, get out of here!" Astraea laughed, swatting his hand away. "You’ll have to wait like everyone else."

"At least let me help," Pato protested, grabbing a knife. "What can I do?"

"Here," his mom said, passing him a bowl of avocados. "You can make the guacamole. Just don't eat it all before dinner!"

Pato rolled up his sleeves, diving into the task with enthusiasm. He mashed the avocados, adding lime juice, cilantro, and diced tomatoes. "Astraea, taste this. Is it good?"

Astraea took a spoonful, her eyes lighting up. "Perfect, Pato! You’re hired."

Renzo, feeling competitive, chimed in, "I bet my pastelillos will be the best thing on this table. Right, Mari?"

Mari, rolling her eyes, replied, "Only if you stop eating half the ingredients, Renzo."

"At least I’m not mashing avocados like a five-year-old," Renzo teased, eyeing Pato's guacamole.

"Careful, Renzo, or I might just 'accidentally' spill some guac on your masterpiece," Pato shot back with a grin.

"Bring it on, avocado boy," Renzo retorted, sticking out his tongue.

Astraea's dad walked in, shaking his head with a smile. "You two sound like you're in elementary school. Just remember, whoever makes the best dish gets the first slice of flan."