With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I am, characteristically, looking ahead to Christmas Eve. In our family, Christmas Eve means an elaborate feast that takes all day to prepare, Spotify Christmas-music channels, jammy red wine, laughter, the occasional blowup (we are Italian, after all), and: Santa Claus. 

I live for the magic that palpably crackles in the air on the night when Santa makes his yearly voyage. Alas, much as I have tried to wait up for him, I have yet to catch a legitimate glimpse of Old Santa. Like many mystical figures, he seems to have a knack for coming when one is drifting between the borders of consciousness, neither awake nor fully asleep. I remember one Christmas Eve when I was three years old and we were living, briefly, in Texas; I awoke with a start sometime before midnight, ran downstairs, and exclaimed, half-tearful, half-triumphant, "I heard the "ho ho ho!" (Well, no. In fact, I heard the "oh, (expletive) no!" of my father and grandfather nearly setting fire to our lawn, having lined it with candles in white bags during high wind--a holiday tradition that was promptly discontinued.) Another year, when we were living in Pennsylvania, I swore I had spotted Santa's boot disappearing around the corner as he walked down the hall outside my bedroom--surely a dream, as no part of the Santa legend has him trolling the second floor of your house in the middle of the night. 

Look, I love that Santa is mysterious and elusive--two traits we all crave in a man--and I respect his ability to evade capture, but that will never stop me from trying. Which is why I've devised the perfect way to stay up late enough to achieve that long-coveted face-to-face with good Saint Nick: this Midnight Miami Mud Pie with Peppermint Crust. It has everything you need for your Kris Kringle encounter: three kinds of caffeine (espresso, brewed coffee, and rich, dark chocolate); whipped cream with peaks to rival the snowy North Pole; and Santa's favorite repast, cookies, crushed and molded into a simple, delicious crust infused with just a droll little hint of that age-old holiday flavor, peppermint.