Rituals of Celebration
“Eating is a powerful and complex mode of communication; it is not just a bodily input but a powerful symbolic force.”
-Mary Douglas
The sharp paring knife slices the apple into four quarters, then gently cuts a small crescent where the seeds lay embedded in the center of the apple. I pry them loose before breaking the apple into even smaller slices. I lay the apples on a plate beside a small glass bowl of amber honey and set the plate down by a freshly lit candle - almost midnight. I dip an apple slice in honey and pass the slices around the small gathered circle of people. “To the sweetness of a new year," I say, and we silently eat our honey-dipped apples.
It all began while I was researching food rituals for an anthropology class. I read about a Jewish ritual called "Tashlich" or "Tashlikh," which means "casting off" in Hebrew. It is a part of the Jewish New Year celebration of Rosh Hannash. The aim of this ritual is to lay aside the year that has come and take up the upcoming year in the hope of sweetness to come. I was struck by this ritual, particularly because New Year celebrations have always been notoriously challenging for me. I feel them as deeply liminal, yet most forms of celebration barge right past the moment with literal horns and confetti. I needed something more significant, and my culture had little to offer me. So, I took up this tiny food ritual and invited some friends to come along. Was the ensuing year sweeter as a result? Well, it was a tumultuous year full of loss, fear and change, but yes, it had a sneaky kind of sweetness that tended to crop up when I least expected it.
That was a long time ago. But I still hold onto small ritual reminders of sweetness. As we engage in these rituals, their cadence embeds itself deeply into the daily and yearly fabric of our lives and relationships. Maybe an afternoon biscotti with tea or the dessert hastily made to celebrate a birthday or some small victory. There are also other “rituals of sweetness” that I am less fond of, such as the yearly candy-laden Easter basket. Left to my own devices, I would pretend that jelly beans and chocolate bunnies do not exist. But we entwine with one another, and the nostalgic sweetness my children's grandparents feel towards such celebrations trumps my own desires. But I too have a tradition. “Hey kids, How would you like to trade all your candy for a homemade treat?” They are accustomed to this ritual and happily comply, preferring the superior quality, nuance, and elevated experience of our handiwork to the abundance of sickly-sweet commercial confections. Here is one of my quick and easy recipes that I often use on such occasions:
“I Will Trade You” cookie recipe
This recipe is adapted from Cookie and Kate’s Peanut Butter Oat Cookie recipe. I have adapted it to use the ingredients we have on hand and simplified the measurements so I can make this on the fly from memory.
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup coconut sugar
1/2 cup maple syrup
3 TBS melted butter (or coconut oil)
2 large eggs (three small ones work too; we have lots of silkie chicken eggs)
1tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1tsp vanilla
2 cups oats
Optional add-ins: 1/2 cup chocolate chips, 1/2 cup chopped nuts, 1/2 flaked coconut, 3 TBSP Maca powder; the possibilities are endless.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a bowl, add all the ingredients except the oats and add-ins. Using a hand mixer blend all of the ingredients until well combined. Add the oats and add-ins and stir until combined. Scoop a teaspoon of dough onto a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Space cookie by 1” bake in oven for 7-9 min. Remove from pan and let cool. The cookies harden as they cool.
Enjoy!