I am not superstitious. Not very much anyway.
Though it is true, as a rule, that I don’t break mirrors, walk under ladders or open umbrellas indoors, and I certainly never, ever utter the name MacBeth aloud in a theatre. But despite what you may think, it’s not superstition – it’s practical magic. After all, shards of glass are decidedly unlucky, as is a hammer, or any object, when dropped from an elevated position; and while I don’t mind raindrops fallin’ on my head, a wet entryway has only ever brought me unhappiness and a sore backside.
As for saying the name of Shakespeare’s bewitched tragedy – I don’t worry about bringing a curse upon my head by saying the name aloud. I do however, worry about other people who worry. Believe you me, you meet one neurotic actor who believes in that superstition, and you’ll honor it all your days.
Nonetheless, I eat lucky food on New Year’s Day because I believe.
Almost every culture has a set of good fortune foods. In the South, many of us make a habit of eating collard greens and black-eyed peas, often with fried hog jowl or any bit of pork in order to guarantee good luck for the coming year.
Where Collards are concerned, my mama says it’s all about the color of money. And that sounds reasonable enough to me, though one wonders if this hearty green is thought lucky because of its preference for cool weather. Green vegetables that taste better after a frost seem like a providential find for folks who grow their own.
Black eyed peas come with a whole host of luck associations – some tracing the tradition to a reference in the Babylonian Talmud about foods to eat at Rosh Hashanah, and others crediting the humble but plentiful pea with saving countless starving Southerners after the Civil War. But, as with collards, both of these associations may have their roots in more pragmatic thought than a concern for fortune. A good bowl of peas can last you for a couple of days so you don’t have to cook daily, and it’s an abundant crop that keeps well.
In many parts of the South black-eyed peas are mixed with rice and, thus, create Hoppin’ John. Rice itself is an ancient symbol of prosperity and fertility, and, I reckon, putting the two to together makes some powerful juju that can carry you through 365 days of life’s varied twists and turns with a favorable edge.
But, of course, it’s only good juju if you actually eat it. And honestly, a plain old can of peas and instant rice isn’t gonna be very
tempting. But if you’ll take a look at Mahasti’s recipe below, at the very least you’ll have pretty good luck at getting folks to eat your New Year’s creation. It’s a simple recipe with an unexpected and delicious ingredient that turns the ordinary into the extraordinary. Plus, Mahasti tops her Hoppin’ John with a vibrant collard green salad that adds a very healthy crunch and a welcome splash of the color of money. I can’t swear that it’s good luck, but I can assure you that it all tastes good.
At the end of the day, though, I believe less in good luck than I believe in good habits. This simple dish is nutritious, frugal, and easy to make at home in family-sized batches that keep well. And while I don’t make resolutions for the New Year, I do believe that making a start with good food habits is a sensible response to the sheer indulgence of the previous weeks; I can weigh the sugar I’ve consumed in pounds. And getting into the habit of eating well and eating things you’ve cooked with or for people you love is the kind of good sense that may not make good luck but will make you feel pretty darn lucky.
Find our recipe for black-eyed peas here and one for the collard green salad here.