For the past 36 years, Nancy Longo has expertly prepared seafood in a kitchen no larger than an elevator. The other evening, she elevated the traditional Feast of the Seven Fishes and invited me to experience it firsthand.
Hosting the classic Italian Christmas Eve dinner six days early for 20 guests at her Pierpoint Restaurant in Fells Point, Longo began the meal with a delightful soup—a clear, flavorful broth infused with Chesapeake clams, leeks, spinach, lemon, and a touch of truffle oil.
For the second course, she sautéed butternut squash until it reached a soft, almost creamy texture, then combined it with rich risotto. Next, she called on her longtime sous chef, Chris Holley, to add luscious chunks of hot, buttery lobster to each of the 20 plates awaiting service.
The subsequent courses were equally stunning: sautéed shrimp paired with roasted potatoes and basil Alfredo; rockfish served with corn, tomato, and broccolini in sage butter; and scallops drizzled in a cherry-balsamic caramel alongside smoked salmon-ricotta ravioli.
In total, that’s seven different types of seafood. While this is the minimum required for the feast, many cooks who embrace this tradition during Christmas Eve prepare as many as 13 varieties. The seven fishes are thought to symbolize the seven sacraments of the Catholic faith, while 13 honor Jesus and the 12 apostles.
After all, this age-old Roman Catholic custom encourages indulging in an abundance of seafood the night before Christmas.
My own connection to this feast runs deep. Every December 24, my Italian-American mother would whip up her version of the seven fishes, which included baccala (more on that shortly), smelts, eel, sardines, fresh haddock or flounder, shrimp, calamari, and anchovies, all served in hot olive oil and garlic over vermicelli.
I have carried on this family tradition as an enthusiastic home cook, preparing the feast for family and friends, yet I can’t claim to reach the remarkable heights Longo achieved just last Saturday night.
Not that there’s anything wrong with a more gourmet approach!
As a seasoned professional chef and owner of a highly regarded seafood restaurant, Longo was certainly expected to elevate her version of the feast. With a price tag of $75 per person, her patrons had every right to anticipate a noteworthy experience.
Despite her Italian-American roots on her father’s side, Longo’s family never engaged in the seven-fish Christmas Eve meal like the one my mother made.
This may clarify why she entrusted the baccala to me.
Naturally, nothing resonates with the Feast of the Seven Fishes quite like baccala—the dried, salted codfish prepared in endless ways across Italian, Hispanic, and Portuguese households. It harks back to the Old World, once a staple food that has now become more of a Christmas delicacy in the U.S.
There’s little practical justification for baccala in today’s world. Nowadays, we have refrigeration, allowing us to freeze fish for extended periods. The ancient practice of drying and salting Atlantic cod dates back centuries. However, this flavorful dish endures out of both tradition and taste. In Spanish, it’s called bacalao, and in Portuguese, bacalhau.
This year, I sourced my baccala from Trinacria, a cherished 117-year-old Italian market on North Paca Street that rivals Longo’s kitchen in its cozy size. (This year, the cost of baccala was higher due to tariffs imposed on imports from Canada.)
After bringing the flanks home, I soaked and rinsed them over three days, then cooked them briefly, shredding the white meat into a salad mixed with olives, onions, capers, tomatoes, peppers, cannellini beans, and artichoke hearts. This was served at Pierpoint on a small round plate alongside a piece of crusty baguette, which Longo approved.
What truly delighted me was observing Longo and Holley in action—the sous chef who has been with Pierpoint since its inception in 1989—as they prepared course after course in that snug kitchen. Longo has long adapted to the limited workspace, moving fluidly and with confidence as she reached for both tools and ingredients, all while engaging in a lively conversation about fish, with the blue flames of the gas burners flickering just inches away.
It was a mesmerizing sight: from a seemingly chaotic little kitchen, beautifully planned, precisely measured, and carefully presented courses emerged, each delivered to the dining room by the hands of young servers.
You might be asking: What about dessert?
It was a delectable pistachio crème brûlée, accompanied by a chocolate spoon and truffles.
So indeed, there’s much to celebrate when elevating the Feast of the Seven Fishes to new heights.
Buone Natale!
To view photos of Nancy Longo in action, click here.
Dan Rodricks writes weekly for Baltimore Fishbowl. His column will resume in the new year. You can contact him through danrodricks.com
