Homemade Holidays : An Exile in New York, a military brat, a mom who poached a tree. . .and the search for figgy pudding. ‘Tis the season to remember. With recipes. : Rustling Trees of Minnesota

The Christmas of ‘56, my mother rebelled. My father, a policeman in a small Minnesota town, considered himself king of the castle and always made the final decisions. This meant, among other things, that he always chose the Christmas tree--a short-needled balsam spruce.

He bought it every year at the Conoco gas station. But in 1956, under the influence of the current issue of Ladies Home Journal, my mother decided to be fashionable: We would, she said, have one of those long-needled Norway pines . . . with a heavy coat of white flocking.

She brought up the matter at breakfast. “No,” my father said firmly, “we will have the same tree we’ve always had.” My mother didn’t say a word. But the minute my father left for work she grabbed the toboggan, an ax and my brother, and set out for the woods to chop a tree. The woods were private property. She didn’t care.

Four hours later they returned with the stolen merchandise. Tied to the toboggan was a perfectly shaped 6-foot Norway pine. She proudly showed us her find, sprayed the tree with fake white snow from an aerosol spray can and brought the tree into the house. My sisters and I helped her decorate it. “This year, “ said my mother, “we’ll only have blue balls and white lights. And no tinsel.”

We thought the tree looked pretty weird, but none of us said so. When my Dad came home from work he looked at it, and he didn’t say anything either. For two days he didn’t say anything.

When he finally started talking, we celebrated Christmas just as we always had. My mother baked the same cookies and candies she did every year: sugar cookies, Mexican wedding cakes, divinity, English toffee and her “famous” million-dollar fudge. She hid them from us as she did every year too, so she could dole them out slowly during the holidays. And as we did every year, we sneaked down to the basement storeroom, reached up to the top beam and helped ourselves.

On Christmas Eve we ate our traditional meal: creamed lutefisk , boiled potatoes, peas and cranberries (“for color,” as my mother put it). It was the same meal that we ate every Christmas Eve. My father ate, but he winced every time he looked at the Christmas tree. He never asked Mom where she got it.

Looking back, I realize that my father may have been king of his castle, but occasionally he had to play by the queen’s rules.

ENGLISH TOFFEE

1 cup finely chopped almonds

1 cup butter

1 cup brown sugar, packed

1 cup milk chocolate, shaved

Sprinkle 1/2 cup almonds on buttered 10x6-baking pan.

Combine butter and brown sugar in medium saucepan. Stir over medium heat until mixture comes to full boil. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until mixture reaches hard crack stage, or temperature of 290 degrees on candy thermometer, approximately 12 to 14 minutes.

Pour mixture over nuts. Sprinkle shaved chocolate on top of nut mixture, spread evenly and sprinkle with remaining nuts. When cool, break into pieces. Makes 1 pound, or about 12 servings.

Each serving contains about:

348 calories; 181 mg sodium; 45 mg cholesterol; 26 grams fat; 29 grams carbohydrates; 3 grams protein; 0.28 gram fiber.

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