 illustration by Lisa Kirkpatrick |
it up to an emphasis on libations or my lack of enthusiasm for black-eyed peas, but New
Year’s Eve never seemed much of a food-centered holiday. Sure, there were the
incidental finger foods to fiddle with and on occasion, a luxurious flourish
such as cold, peel-and-eat shrimp devoured long before the clock struck
midnight, but rarely did the evening seem inextricably linked to food.
So imagine my awe before the sumptuous spreads I witnessed during my
successive New Years spent in France. In the land of bubbling champagnes — the
beverage that dominates our homeland festivities — food takes center stage. I
never f�ted the passing of the year in Paris without partaking of smooth,
buttery slices of smoked salmon, miniature sandwiches almost too pretty to eat,
fresh oysters glistening lusciously in their shells, rich sections of foie
gras, and bite-sized cream puffs and fruit-filled tarts. Sure, champagne
flowed (the first bottle of the New Year generally opened by the ceremonial
swipe of a sword across its neck), but the food played a role in its own right,
symbolizing a luxurious last hurrah for the passing year and offering a
grandiose welcome to the one at hand.
Several years earlier, as a resident of Northern England, I spent one New
Year’s Eve playing games before a roaring fire inside an intimate country pub.
The foods brought to our table, a heavy wooden slab overrun with pints of
bitter, lager, and cider, were hardly luxurious — better described as earthy
and unpretentious. The selection included an odd assortment of savory pies,
baskets of chips (thick-cut french fries) doused with vinegar, and heavy hearth
breads paired with hard, crumbling cheeses. A subsequent New Year in the
country found me celebrating in a pub yet again, this time among members of the
local hunt club who explained that traditional New Year’s fare should be
strictly English, both as a kind of reverential nod to the past and as a symbol
of the continuity of tradition into the future. That particular night, the
buffet was set with a heavy block of roast beef and bowls of tiny Morecambe Bay
shrimp, a favorite of Her Royal Highness fished from a forlorn resort town
nearby. Individual servings of Yorkshire pudding, a popover-type dish flavored
with meat drippings, a bowl of tender parsnips, and an imposing crock full of
England’s signature Stilton blue cheese completed the menu. A spicy apple
crumble and thick, dark bread pudding punctuated the meal.
Although I lived in Austria briefly one fall and winter, I departed before the
changing of the year. I do know, though, that Austrian tradition has it that
New Year’s Eve is the time to dine on roasted piglet and wild mushrooms.
However, more common today than pigs of the roasted variety are sweet little
marzipan creatures that fill bakery windows. Each pastry piglet carries a coin
in its mouth, a symbol of good luck and prosperity. Austrians also believe that
a kiss from a chimney sweep is sure to bring luck, and the streets of most
towns fill around midnight with the men who distinguish themselves by
appropriately blackening their faces.
In neighboring Hungary, a steaming bowl of soup laced with sauerkraut acts as
the harbinger of good fortune, while throughout Italy and the Czech Republic,
consuming a hearty bowl of well-seasoned lentils reportedly ensures imminent
prosperity. One Italian friend remembers that each New Year’s table at home was
dressed with a sizable leg of roasted pork and a curious dish of eels, while an
Austin resident who spent time in Italy recalls New Year’s Eve in the country
as a noisy event during which guns were fired continuously into the air and old
crockery was thrown from homes to shatter in the streets as a symbol of “out
with the old, in with the new.”
A close friend from the Netherlands told me about a similar “out with the old”
tradition practiced primarily in small villages in his homeland. In the hour
before midnight, townspeople roam the streets, taking possession of those
things homeowners have failed to attach to their houses or tie down. Anything
is fair game — loose shutters, garden tables, flower pots — all of which are
carried to the town square or village church where they are stockpiled
haphazardly. After the “street cleaning” tour (residents generally reclaim
their property the following day), revelers travel from house to house sipping
an astringent liqueur made from juniper berries and nibbling on
Oliebolen, a fried pastry topped with powdered sugar, or
Appelflapen, a beignet stuffed plump with apples. Fireworks provide the
finale to the evening.
In Scotland, where New Year’s Eve is known as Hogmanay, party-goers
also travel from house to house. Legend has it that the first person to cross
your threshold in the New Year brings good luck, and most visitors arrive with
a bottle of whisky and piece of coal in hand, the latter another symbol of
prosperity. Scottish New Year’s foods vary from one home to the next, but
practically everyone serves black bun, a dense, pastry-wrapped cake speckled
with currants and spiked with Scotch whisky.
Halfway around the world in India, there are as many New Year’s traditions as
there are different New Years, the result of varying religious calendars. But
on or around January first, celebratory meals often include chowli, a
highly seasoned dish of Chinese long beans, and gorpapdi, a sweet bread
made with flowers and jaggery, a type of unrefined sugar. Garlands made
of marigolds, foliage, and rice husks hang at the entrances of homes and
businesses as a symbol of good fortune, and many Indians believe the changing
of the year is the ideal time to make a new, significant purchase such as a
television or an expensive piece of jewelry.
An Austin resident originally from Cuba told me that cider is the beverage of
choice at New Year’s fiestas on her native island. But before the bottle can be
opened, merry-makers must count down the last minute of the passing year by
popping a grape in their mouths with every tick of the clock. Turrones,
sweets made from marzipan and almonds, are customarily a part of the festal
banquet as are dates and nuts.
In Venezuela, water is thrown into the streets at the stroke of midnight to
wash away bad luck and lingering evil, and ayacas, plaintain-wrapped
cornmeal dumplings stuffed with beef, chicken, or pork in addition to raisins,
prunes, and olives are a favorite holiday offering.
The New Year in Lebanon gets celebrated in a myriad of ways, according to both
Christian and Muslim traditions. But almost all Lebanese, regardless of their
religious backgrounds, agree that New Year’s Eve just wouldn’t be New Years
without kibbeh, a ground meat (goat, veal, or lamb) and crushed wheat
preparation typically seasoned with onions, mint, salt and pepper. Kibbeh may
be served raw and drizzled with olive oil, as a sort of kibbeh tartare, or
baked. When baked, the meat and wheat mixture is layered alternately with a
savory stuffing of pine nuts and onions. Turkey also has a place on the
Lebanese New Year’s table although its dressing is made of rice, ground meat,
pine nuts, and/or almonds. Large families, or hosts expecting numerous guests
may prepare a full suckling lamb stuffed with a similar mixture of pine nuts
and rice in place of a turkey. Or, if the guest list is smaller, simply a rack
of stuffed lamb ribs may be offered on the New Year’s banquet table.
Ted, of Ted’s Greek Corner on Congress Avenue told me that the New Year in
Greece is marked by the exchanging of gifts and the sharing of the
Vasilopeta, a buttery white cake topped with walnuts, almonds, or
pistachios to honor St. Basil, whose feast takes place on January 1.
Traditionally, explained Ted, the first slice of the cake is reserved for God,
the second slice set aside for the poor, the third slice given as an offering
to the house, and finally, the following slices are doled out to family members
beginning with the father and ending with the youngest child. Like the lentils
of Italy and the pigs of Austria, Vasilopeta is said to bring good luck. The
catch is, in Greece luck comes only to the fortunate one whose serving of cake
contains the one hidden New Year’s silver coin. The others, said Ted, have to
be just be content with dessert.
Vasilopeta — Greek New Year’s Cake
2 sticks unsalted butter
2 cups sugar
3 cups flour
6 large
eggs
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup warm milk
1/2 teaspoon
baking soda
11/2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 cup
chopped nuts (almonds, pistachios, walnuts)
1/4 cup sugar or to
taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream sugar and butter and add flour, stirring
well. Mixture will be coarse. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each
addition. Stir baking powder into warm milk and stir into egg mixture. Dissolve
baking soda in lemon juice and stir into dough. Mix well. Grease a 10″ x 2″
round baking pan. Pour mixture into pan and bake for 20 minutes. Sprinkle with
remaining sugar and nuts and bake an additional 20 to 30 minutes until golden.
Cool in pan before serving.
This article appears in December 27 • 1996 and December 27 • 1996 (Cover).