Detroit (Michigan) Union Christmas Hors d’oeuvres Table by Ruth Paget
I went to many union Christmas mixer parties as a young person in Detroit (Michigan), because my mother was an elected union officer (usually recording secretary and/or trustee Union Printers’ Home in Colorado Springs, Colorado).
The Christmas mixer was covert for next year’s union organizing I think in reality, but the mixer attendees kiddified the proceedings due to my presence.
I was brought to the mixer, because I wanted to learn about politics and international affairs. My mother’s union included Canadian members (The union was named The International Typographical Union for printers now part of the Communication Workers’ of America.)
Many of my mother’s colleagues were of Eastern European heritage and were heritage speakers of languages like Polish and Hungarian. During the height of the Cold War with the former Soviet Union, some of these people may have been recruited to translate in their heritage languages and maybe learn Russian in addition to their printing work.
My mom’s colleagues made an “hors d’oeuvres table” for the mixer that resembled a Russian zakuski hors d’oeuvres table that is placed against a wall for easy replenishment. It helps with crowd control, too. You get your food there and then move out to the center of the room to mingle.
The hors d’oeuvres table was laid out in three rows. The first row had china plates and white cotton napkins placed between the plates. You picked up a plate and kept the napkin between the plate and your hand. Under the plates was a sliced cheese hors d’oeuvres with a rye-krisp cracker square spread with mustard-mayonnaise and a rectangular slice of cheddar cheese on top. Two or three black olive slices sat on top of the cheese. (I think these were mock versions of Russian smoked salmon appetizers topped with sour cream and caviar.)
The second row held a large bowl of baked, ridged potato chips. Above the chips was a large bowl of sour cream dip with French onion soup mixed in it. I still love this hors d’oeuvres combination.
In the third row, there would be three-inch slices of celery stuffed with a mix of cream cheese mixed with diced pineapple. The sticky cream cheese was dunked in crushed walnuts to top of this crunchy delicacy.
There was room for all these treats on my large plate; no small cocktail plates at the union Christmas mixer.
Next to the hors d’oeuvres tables was a cooler full of ice and mixed sodas. You had to balance the plate and soda in your left hand as you ate and drank.
My mother’s colleagues joked with me about international affairs, “You have to have strong legs to do cocktail parties. There are never any chairs.”
By Ruth Paget, author Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France
