“When I was a kid,” my mother, Jennie Moglia Carroll, reminisced, “Big Grampa (my great-grandfather) cooked the Feast of the Seven Fishes every Christmas Eve, and Mommy (my Italian grandmother, Agnes, who I lovingly called Nonny) used to help.”

The Feast of the Seven Fishes is an American-Italian tradition that may have roots in Christianity but is not necessarily a tradition in Italy. With the plethora of seafood options available in Italy, however, and my Italian ancestry, serving fish on Christmas Eve is a tradition that has been a part of my family for longer than I can remember.

“When I was little, the Italian families were like clans, and they stuck together,” my mother explained. “On Christmas Eve family would come up from Brooklyn and Mommy would set up the big tables, with a kids’ table in another room, and the Italian men would drink a lot of wine.”

Although I never knew my great-grandfather, I remember the meals that my Nonny prepared, not just on Christmas Eve but every Sunday. Her tables and bowls were as big as her heart. There was always ample food and love to nourish dozens of relatives, and everyone was welcome to enjoy both. “It was a feast that lasted all afternoon,” said my mom.

On Christmas Eve, “Big Grampa would make eel, scungilli (conch, or big snails), lobster, cod, calamari, baccala (a dried, salted cod) and clams. The baccala stunk,” said my mother. “I used to hate it.”

In those days, my family lived in Newburgh, N.Y., close enough to New York City that my great-grandfather would go into the city to get the big snails that he would cook in a homemade marinara sauce. “When Big Grampa (who stood just about 5 feet tall) died, Mommy would do it . . . she would cook for days,” said my mother. “She loved doing it, and Daddy (my grandfather, who we called Papa) would help.”

Nonny “would figure out what she needed,” explained my mother, “and she would call Sally’s Fish Market and my daddy would run out to pick up Agnes’ order.” Later, when my own father — a quiet, inexperienced Irish kid from a small family who describes himself as “a lamb to the slaughter” with respect to his integration with the gregarious Italians and their vibrant customs — came onto the scene, he would be sent to Sally’s for Agnes’ order. Though he often jokes about it, my father, whose diet before he met my mother and her family consisted primarily of honey sandwiches, loved every minute of it.

“They would start with the pasta and lobster,” said my mother, “and then, after you had already stuffed yourself with pasta and lobster, the stuffed clams would come out, followed by all the other fish.”

“Mommy would get pastries from the Italian bakery in town,” said my mother, “but when Big Grampa was alive he would go to Brooklyn and get the pastries from a bakery on Mulberry Street, and after the men drank all their wine and took a little nap,” the serving of pastries and other desserts like tiramisu would signal the culmination of dinner.

Although my parents moved my siblings and me to Vermont when I was just 7 years old, we returned to New York every year for Christmas, or Nonny and Papa came to us. I have memories of large tables, heavy with unusual foods such as big octopus tentacles and delicate rings of calamari — most of which I refused to taste until well past the day that my Nonny passed away. It’s unfortunate that I missed the opportunity to experience her unusual and expertly prepared dishes.

Since my grandparents’ passing, my mother’s sister Theresa would sometimes make the Feast of the Seven Fishes on Christmas Eve, and then my mother would cook a cut of beef or a turkey on Christmas Day, like her own mother did. But my Aunt Theresa, who I interviewed at this time last year for an article about her Italian Christmas cookies, has also passed away. “Now that Theresa’s gone,” said my mother, “I’m not going to do it.”

Rather than prepare such an extravagant meal, left to her own devices my mother has chosen a less ambitious menu for Christmas Eve with a dish requiring just two fishes that she calls “shrimp and scallops elegant.”

“Who’s here to eat seven fishes,” she asked rhetorically, referring to her empty nest. Her new tradition, which is now about 20 years old, is both delicious and attractive, and she shared her recipe with us today.

“The shrimp is my own twist on the recipe,” my mother said, “and I double it with 2 pounds of scallops and 2 pounds of shrimp.” She also shared her sister Theresa’s recipe for tiramisu.

Although I’ve prepared my mother’s “shrimp and scallops elegant” several times, my own children prefer lobster Newburg and, occasionally, clams casino on Christmas Eve, with a roasted or barbecued cut of prime rib or beef tenderloin on Christmas Day.

The recipe for clams casino, which is provided, was created by my brother-in-law, Neil Connolly, whose cookbook, “In the Kennedy Kitchen,” is a collection of recipes and anecdotes from his days as Ted Kennedy’s personal chef at the compound in Hyannisport, Mass.

Traditions, like life, evolve over time. Although food is an integral part of our holidays, my favorite tradition has nothing to do with food. Every year since 1986, when my oldest son was born, we’ve read aloud the same now-tattered books on Christmas Eve: “The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree” and “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.” We also cut our own Christmas tree and make cookies. Each of these are traditions that I hope my children will continue — in addition to serving at least one fish on Christmas Eve. Nonny, Big Grampa and the many other members of our family would be pleased.

Neil Connolly’s clams casino*

2 dozen little-neck clams on the half-shell

2 sticks (8 ounces) butter, slightly softened

1 tablespoon minced garlic

2 teaspoons minced shallots

1.5 teaspoons Pernod or anisette

1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley

1 tablespoon finely diced red bell pepper

1/3 cup fresh bread crumbs

2 slices bacon

1. With a small sharp knife, slip the blade under each clam to release the muscle, leaving the clams nested on the half-shell. Cover with a damp kitchen towel and then plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to cook so they don’t dry out.

2. In a mixer with a paddle attachment or by hand with a wooden spoon, combine the butter, garlic, shallot, Pernod, parsley, bell pepper and bread crumbs. Blend well. Turn out onto a sheet of waxed paper and roll into a log. Wrap well and refrigerate until firm, 30 to 60 minutes.

3. When you’re ready to serve, preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Cut each strip of bacon into 12 pieces about 1/2 inch wide. Slice the log of seasoned butter into 24 rounds. Put a pat of butter on each clam. Top with a piece of bacon.

4. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes until the bacon is lightly browned. Serve hot or warm.

* Neil Connolly is the writer’s brother-in-law

Shrimp & scallops elegant

2 pounds scallops

2 pounds shrimp

1 cup celery

1/2 cup onion

2 small garlic cloves

4 tablespoons butter

2 large cans mushrooms

2 tablespoons flour

1/2 teaspoon paprika

2 teaspoon salt

2 cups milk

Parsley

Shredded Swiss cheese

Bread crumbs

Saute shrimp and scallops and set aside in a 13-inch-by-9-inch pan.

In a saucepan, cook celery, onion and garlic in 2 tablespoons butter until tender. Drain and add canned mushrooms. Pour over scallops and shrimp. Top with breadcrumbs and fresh parsley.

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a pan and blend in the flour, paprika and salt. Add milk, cook and stir until thick and bubbly. Pour over the shrimp and scallops and top with Swiss cheese.

Bake at 425 for about 15 minutes.

Tiramisu

2 packages biscuits/Italian lady fingers

3 cups instant vanilla pudding

8 ounces cream cheese (room temperature)

1 tablespoon Kahlua

1.25 cups fat-free half & half

3/4 cup strong coffee

1/4 cup sugar

Another 1/4 cup Kahlua or cognac

8 ounces light Cool Whip

Cocoa powder

Mix together the coffee, 1/4 cup Kahlua and sugar until dissolved; set aside.

In an electric mixer, start with the soft cream cheese and 1 tablespoon Kahlua. Beat until blended. Add half & half and pudding alternately (a little at a time). Beat until smooth. Add Cool Whip and blend well.

Line bottom of a 13-inch-by-9-inch baking dish with biscuits and brush with one half of the coffee mixture.

Spread one half of the cream cheese mixture.

Add another layer of biscuits and brush with remaining coffee mixture.

Spread the rest of the cream cheese mixture

Sprinkle top with cocoa powder.

Refrigerate.

Do not cut for 24 hours. It’s best after 48 hours.