When I was a kid, my mother insisted that every New Year’s – preferably right at the stroke of midnight for some reason – we had to eat black-eyed peas and rice. I’m not sure why. She claimed it was for good luck, but I think she just wanted to know that we’d all had un-fried vegetables at least once in the coming year. After all, our Southern roots dictated that “if it ain’t fried, it ain’t food.”

I’ve lost my fondness for fried stuff, fortunately, but it’s hard to shake a New Year’s tradition like that. Every year of my adult life – with one exception – I’ve made Hoppin’ John on New Year’s Eve and passed it around to everyone nearby sometime after midnight but before we’ve all fallen asleep. That’s a rather big accomplishment when you consider that the Big-Eyed Boy only eats veggies he can dip in Ranch dressing while Hubby despises any vegetable that doesn’t rhyme with “toe”.

Last year, we didn’t have black-eyed peas and rice on New Year’s. It wasn’t for a lack of effort on my part: I looked for them at the Commissary as well as four grocery stores in town but they were sold out. Sold out! And what happened? Well, let’s just say that 2003 was an excruciatingly rough year physically, financially and emotionally.

So, here it is 6:15 a.m. on New Year’s Eve and I just put my black-eyed peas in the slow-cooker. You can call it supersitious if you like, but I’m thinking of it as “insurance.”

What New Year’s traditions do you celebrate? And what’s happened if you’ve ever skipped them?

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