Year of the Rooster: Celebrating Chinese New Year

Bring out your brooms to brush away the influence of the Yang Monkey, who brought clever but conniving and deceitful behavior into our lives. Clean your house, tidy up the cupboards and pay homage to the Kitchen God before he makes his yearly report on your household to the heavens.
Out with the old, in with the new: It is time to make space for the Yin Fire Rooster, who brings good energy, triumph and success, but only as a result of hard work and patience throughout the year. January 28 is the dawn of the Chinese New Year.
The Chinese New Year has been celebrated for centuries and goes by many names, such as the Spring Festival, the Lunar New Year, or the Farmer New Year. It follows the natural progression of seasons, harvests and moon cycles. And it serves many purposes: a time to welcome spring; to remember our ancestors and spirits who guide us; to reaffirm our strength with family and community as well as to restate our goals for prosperity, success and overall good fortune.
The celebrations for Chinese New Year are steeped in symbolism. The New Year is an auspicious occasion, and our actions are meant to create favorable conditions throughout the year. If it’s possible to condense all these layers of complexity down to a few key concepts, it is this: Everything is connected, everything seeks balance, think positively to create positive results.
The Chinese New Year festivities span many days, making it the biggest and longest holiday in China, with similar celebrations in neighboring countries, and within strong Chinese communities throughout the world. Think of it as Thanksgiving, Christmas, the January 1 New Year and Easter combined. That is one supersized, extra-strength holiday. But before all the celebrations, there is a family meal on the eve of the New Year, a reunion dinner.
This is the feast that embodies the overall values of the New Year celebration and the most important meal of the year. And this is my family’s feast that I would like to share with you.
We are truly an American melting pot family. Our roots include Hong Kong Chinese and a mix of European ancestry by way of the Midwest. To add to the cross-cultural mélange, my parents have anthropology backgrounds in Southeast Asian studies. Their field work has brought influences of Borneo, Bali, Singapore and Taiwan, to name just a few. Furthermore, my grandmother, a Hong Kong gourmet who lived to eat and published several cookbooks on lavish Chinese feasts and festival food, is contrasted with my grandfather, a judicious conservative who ate to live and frowned on indulgence.
It comes as no surprise that we follow traditions, but not too closely. We’ve adapted to our environment, the food we have available, the presentations we enjoy most. But the intention is still there. We eat as a family on New Year’s Eve, sharing a handful of auspicious courses in hopes they manifest throughout the year. There is plenty. If you’re lucky, we’ve invited you inside to share the meal. The house has already been cleaned, with new red greeting placards posted on doorways and windows. Put on some festive red clothing, it’s time to eat.

The Family Feast for the Year of the Energetic Rooster
As we enter the home of the eldest in the family (in this case my parents’ home), we exchange gifts of oranges or tangerines (or both), always in a pair. The Chinese word for oranges sounds like “wealth” while the word for tangerines sounds like “luck.” The yellow/orange hue of the citrus also represents gold, and the pair is the balance of Yin and Yang. With the exchange, we offer one another good luck and good wealth in the New Year. The fruit is set aside or added to an existing platter already full of “gold” from our garden’s trees.
The Eight Treasures
A Chinese candy box welcomes guests at the table. We call them the Eight Treasures: taro chips, peanuts, candied ginger, sometimes the rummages of the cupboard. My mother cares more about the symbolic nature of “eight” items than what those items often consist of. Have fun with it!
If there are enough people at the table, there will be eight courses served, as the number eight is considered lucky and the word for eight, pronounced “Ba,” sounds like “Fa,” the word for wealth or fortune.
While eight courses is considered lucky and plentiful, it is not required, especially if there are a smaller number of guests. Overall, have an even number of courses, as well as an even number of guests, so there is balance.
The courses also follow a progression of balance. The first half of the feast will be the Yin—lighter and cooler dishes; the second half will be the Yang dishes—heavier and richer.

First Course: Assorted Light Nibbles
May you have greater fertility and children.
Our first dish is light and cold, often fruit and vegetables like cucumber and jicama slices, melon seeds or pumpkin seeds and slices of hard-boiled eggs, perhaps tea eggs. Be sure to have an even number of them, of course. There can be a repeat of some of the treasures from the candy box. These are Yin items, with the fruit, seeds and eggs representing fertility and plenty.
Second Course: Loh-Hei Noodle Toss
May you grow your fortunes.
This is a dish that is popular in Singapore, but my family has been inspired to make it part of our own tradition. Loh-hei means “promotion,” or rising up. My mother explains its origins best:
“Your great-grandmother was very fond of a version of the tossed raw fish salad. Mindful of the risk of eating raw fish from polluted streams or raw vegetables from manure-fertilized soil, my father limited her indulgence to once a year. It was quite an exciting occasion for us kids to eat the treat at the Moon Festival. All day, Mother and Aunts washed the vegetables carefully, using lots of ginger on the sliced fish. In the evening, after the ritual dinner, we gathered on the rooftop to watch the moon rise and eat bowls of the salad. The crispy noodles and sweet-and-sour dressing were our favorite. When your great-grandmother passed away, my father put a stop to this mode of celebration.”

“The next time I met the salad it had taken the name Loh-hei. We were in Singapore. The prescribed ritual goes like this: The host ceremonially presents the raw fish, and all the diners at the table stand up to greet it, their chopsticks poised. On cue, they fling the shredded ingredients into the air while shouting, “Loh-hei, loh-hei!” It is believed that the height of the toss reflects the height of the diner’s growth in fortunes. Thus all must toss and yell enthusiastically.”
Once the dressing is poured into the scattering mounds that fall back onto the table, the salad is heaped back onto the platter, then scooped out into bowls for everyone to eat. Children enjoy this meal, but it is the adults who usually end up being most playful with the shouting and tossing of food.

Third Course: Vegetable Medley
May you have family harmony.
We keep this dish simple and fresh, opting for vegetables that are seasonally available as well as symbolically important. The mingling of vegetables is the harmony of your family, and the individual vegetables have their own meanings. So we include cabbage for many types and layers of prosperity, mushrooms for longevity, bamboo shoots for wealth and new starts.
There is a lot of interpretation to the components, and it’s fine to be creative. Perhaps the market has a glut of healthy broccoli, use that. The broccoli florets can represent abundance or children. Or onions can be abundance from their layers and completeness for being round, snow peas are unity, while bean sprouts are positive starts to the new year. See what you can come up with when you walk down the aisles of the farmers market.
Fourth Course: Fried Tofu in Oyster Sauce
May you have more wealth and gold.
This is a bridge to the meat courses. We slice the tofu into bite-size bars and fry them golden, signifying bars of gold. We can do this beforehand, keeping them cold until it is time to serve them, and quickly stir-fry them before plating with oyster sauce.
After this course we move towards an over-all Yang theme to the meal, with slow-roasted stews and meats that normally grace the table on very special occasions. Rice is now finally available, should people wish for some. Although rice is an important part of Chinese food, it is also a staple because it is a filler and should not be necessary for a sumptuous feast. So, we acknowledge its role, but we do not dive straight into it in order to feel sated. Instead, just use the rice to soak up all the rich delicious juices left in your bowl.
Fifth Course: Roast Chicken (or Duck)
Wishing togetherness of your family and prosperity.
We serve a chicken in a simple form, which is still sublime and delicious. Ideally, the bird retains its head, tail and feet, at least on the serving platter, although it is difficult to buy a chicken this way. But we prefer to eat the chicken already sliced and chopped into bite-size pieces, reassembled onto the platter and served at room temperature. So if we were able to acquire a whole chicken, its head, tail and feet would be included for completeness. If none of these parts, it’s OK. But if for some reason it is missing its head, tail or feet, do not serve one without the others.


For a small family, or a feast with fewer courses, chicken is one of the key items prepared. Because any family, no matter the level of wealth, should be able to provide a chicken for a meal. And this year it is particularly auspicious to serve chicken, as it is the Year of the Rooster.
As an alternative you could serve Chinese Roast Duck, symbolizing greater fertility (duck), or having a child soon (lettuce rolls). We find it best to procure one from a nearby city with dense Asian populations, like Los Angeles or the San Francisco Bay Area. As it is already roasted, we reheat it in the oven to get the skin crispy, then serve it in slices and shreds of meat and crispy skin. Traditionally it is wrapped in thin rice-flour pancakes with hoisin sauce and sliced green onions, but we prefer to use lettuce leaves, either romaine or butter, in place of the pancakes.
Sixth Course: Whole Fish
May you have a surplus to invest and success to your business.
Serving a whole steamed fish is one of the most important parts of our feast. The word for fish sounds like the word for “surplus.” It’s about having plenty and investing in the future. The effort of serving a fresh fish is feast-worthy and honorable as well; it is the bounty of our ocean. The head and the tail is balance, it is a good beginning and a good end.
There is no advantage to getting ahold of a fish earlier and storing it, or freezing it. Its eyes would not be clear, its flesh would have absorbed the aromas of other things lingering in the fridge or freezer.

This dish is the dish we’ve fretted the most over. Come late January or early February, you can be sure that on the Saturday before New Year’s Eve, there will be a line of Asian families at the fish market eagerly seeking a whole fish. I’ve been one of those frantic whole-fish seekers. I’ve begged and bartered them from fishing buddies. I’ve put the call out to friends who might be passing through Los Angeles to please stop into an Asian market, because I need a whole fish and these markets are prepared for people like me to come bursting in, “I need a whole fish!”
The steamed fish is presented whole on a platter to the guests, a shared dish from which diners scoop away with a serving spoon or remove pieces with their chopsticks. Once the flesh is taken from the topside of the fish, it is critical that the fish is not flipped over, for the fish also represents a fisherman’s boat, and livelihood, and to turn over the fish invites misfortune should the fishing boat also turn over. No, the bones are carefully pushed to the side to reveal the underside of the steamed fish. Finally, there should be some left over, to be saved and eaten the following day. It is your surplus, your savings for a future meal, even if a token one.
Seventh Course: Slow-Braised Pork
May you and your family have strength, wealth and abundant blessings.
This has become one of the crowning glories to the family feast. It is a rich and heady dish of tender, succulent pork with glistening fat and thick sauce to be soaked up with rice.
We take a large hock piece, as it is round to represent completeness and togetherness, and braise it in a pot for hours in a slow-simmering stew of daikon radish, soy sauce, rice wine, star anise and ginger. Overnight, ideally, but at least three to four hours, until the meat threatens to fall off the bone yet is still intact.
The pot is brought straight to the table with the round of pork presented under a lightly dressed bed of cilantro but generally untouched lest the juicy pork fall apart. Everyone digs in, and the meat comes away in thick shreds. The rich gravy is not to be missed; this is where you need some rice to soak up those juices in the bowl. I don’t know how we managed to eat all this; we are bursting at this point. And there’s still one more course! Thankfully, we make this one easy…
Eighth Course: Orange Slices
For continued wealth and prosperity.
A more traditional Chinese New Year feast has sweet, glutinous rice cakes, but we have slices of oranges, which is a common way to finish any meal. In Santa Barbara, we have such delicious oranges that reach a peak in sweetness and flavor this time of year. The farmers market is full of heavy bags of them, and we pull the most perfect, round and brightly orange-hued ones from our tree to symbolize gold and wealth, and completeness. We slice as many as people can eat, and although everyone is very full, there is always room to eat a couple slices.
Gong Hey Fat Choy!
May you have happiness and wealth! Now that the meal is over, the host provides a parting gift—pairs of tangerines to complete the circle: At the beginning, the guests brought their own for the host. The elders also hand out red envelopes, or lucky money, to children who put them under their pillows for the night and open them on New Year’s Day.


Other ways to celebrate the New Year include spring cleaning, tilling the garden, planting new seeds. For many of the Chinese were traditionally farmers, and this was their break from the fields to prepare for the springtime. Add the intention, the mindfulness and meaning in these small rituals, acknowledge your farmers and spend time with your family. Listen for a neighborhood rooster crow at dawn; he represents commitment, loyalty and punctuality by waking you up on time! When you buy an orange from the market stall or pick one from your tree to give to a friend, pick two, and wish them a happy new year.

Owner/Publisher
Rosminah Brown is a Santa Barbara native who types fast and eats slow. She once jumped in the Neptune Pool at Hearst’s Castle. She is still upset that JR’s BBQ closed. She is always seeking a perfect, singular, exquisite bite of food.