Hanukkah ends tonight. We’ve eaten approximately eleventy million latkes, and Harry has opened nearly as many gifts. (If you dread stinking up the joint with latkes one more time, maybe you’ll do like me and make crispity crunchity smashed potatoes instead.) My birthday was yesterday, and to celebrate I stuffed my face at Pok Pok—more on that another time. Now all that’s left for my interfaith family is to make it through Christmas. This year, Harry’s jonesing for a tree ratcheted u...
