Memories of Chinese New Years Past
Growing up hapa meant celebrating the Lunar New Year with my Chinese side of the family each winter. My mom would pull out the silk cheongsams and mandarin-collared coats she kept in a cedar chest that smelled of mothballs. Opening it up was like peering into a long lost past.
Once dressed in our festive outfits, we’d pile into our family’s red Aerostar van, drive downtown on the winding 110 Pasadena Freeway, taking the off ramp that exits directly onto Hill Street, and park in the cool concrete structure beneath our destination: Empress Pavillion, the largest, most cacophonous dim sum hall you’re ever likely to see.
There we’d meet up with the Gee clan—Grandpa wearing his favorite trucker hat, Grandma in her finest red sweatshirt, and the rest of my many aunts and uncles—and together we’d wait patiently for the hostess to call our paper number over the loud speaker, first in Chinese, then in English. Grandma Gee would greet my brother and I with lucky red envelopes or hongbao stuffed with $20 bills (these and the special Chinese New Year candies we got were some of the many reasons I looked forward to the holiday).
Then we’d fill up on dim sum favorites: ha gau (shrimp dumplings), shumai, egg custard tarts, bamboo-wrapped bundles of glutinous rice and lapsang, and perhaps some Chinese broccoli for good measure. The trick to getting what you want at dim sum (as in life) is all about body language, regardless of whether you know the names of the dishes. Want those freshly steamed cha siu bao (bbq pork buns) in your belly? Don’t be shy. Throw that dim sum punch card in the air and flag down that cart as if your life depended on it. There is always one hawker who is stuck wheeling the cart with dishes that no one wants—just shake your head and give her the “no thank you” wave.
As a little girl I accepted these festivities as par for the course, not quite realizing that most American families did not celebrate Chinese New Year. As an adult, and as someone who has many Chinese and Chinese American friends, the tradition has become a conscious and well-cemented part of my life. And I never miss an occasion to gather friends and family around a table filled with good food and good times. After all, the spirit of the occasion is in the words themselves, for dim sum means “a little bit of heart.”
恭喜发财!
