The author’s family enjoying dinner on New Years Eve. Photo: Caroline Hroncich.

There is nothing more exciting than going to Costco. Or, at least this is what I thought as a child growing up in suburban New Jersey. I lived for my family’s frequent trips to the behemoth superstore — ripe with opportunity to try endless samples of food and ride in shopping carts cushioned with extra-large packages of toilet paper.

My excitement about visiting Costco peaked in the week between Christmas and New Years, as my family prepared for what we call our annual New Year’s Eve “junk food dinner.”  Calling it a junk food dinner is something of a misnomer, as it’s more of a celebration spent eating a lot of food, rather than unhealthy food — but unsurprisingly, Costco played a particularly big part in this tradition.

Upon arriving at Costco, we picked up a giant platter of turkey roll ups, then crudité, followed by shrimp with cocktail sauce and several large loaves of bread. Then came supersize bags of Cape Cod potato chips, Cheez Doodles and other snacks. Satisfied with our spoils, we rolled up to the cash register, both hungry and excited to enjoy our meal. As it edged closer to midnight on New Years my mother set out the Costco platters on a cloth at the dining room table. We piled paper plates high with food, and then we ate and discussed the upcoming year, making resolutions we probably would not keep.

The author and her brother pose in front of Costco platters during a junk food dinner. Photo: Caroline Hroncich.

As children, my brother and I were kept on a relatively strict, no-junk-food diet. As a result, I came to believe the junk food dinner was a way for my parents to make up for all of the soda and chips we couldn’t eat throughout the rest of the year. I only recently learned it was actually a tradition established long before I was born. My grandmother started it with my mother.

It was not initially called “junk food dinner.” For my mother, it was simply an opportunity to enjoy food that she didn’t normally get to eat. On New Year’s Eve, when they didn’t have plans to go out, my grandmother would set out a large tablecloth in the living room and fill it with food. They ate pumpernickel bread, tuna fish and finger sandwiches while crowding around the television watching Guy Lombardo and his band. My mother loved this dinner and she wanted my brother and I to relish it as well. Now I look forward to it every year. 

Although it’s remained a staple in my life, the junk food dinner evolved as my brother and I grew older. When I was little it was largely spent with my immediate family: mom, dad and little brother. We ate until we were full, watched movies and waited for the ball to drop. Then we would toast with sparkling apple cider and ship off to bed.

The author and her brother at junk food dinner on New Years Eve in 2000. Photo: Caroline Hroncich.

As we got older, offers to spend New Years with friends or at parties altered this dynamic. We invited friends and relatives to our house to share in the bounty, of which we inevitably always have leftovers. We’ve eaten earlier or later to accommodate various other social events. We’ve added new foods, like a mix of Italian cold cuts from our local deli. But no matter what we serve, the junk food dinner will go on.

This past year, my brother was rushed to the hospital with a dangerous infection the day before New Years Eve. After a stressful night spent in the emergency room, he returned home late the next day, exhausted. Spirits were low. None of us had more than three hours of sleep. The last thing we wanted to do was celebrate. But regardless, my father and I made the journey to our local Costco to pick up the food we ordered in anticipation of the holiday.

Although we were haggard, somehow things felt a little better as we sat down to eat. We were uncertain about what the next year, or even the next day, would bring. But we were certain of a few things, we would always have our family, Costco trips and our junk food dinner.

Caroline Hroncich