It’s been a few weeks since the last holiday celebration.   Given the continuous stream that begins in October with Diwali and Halloween, by early January we’re usually tuckered out after more than two months of on-and-off revelry.  Now that we’ve had a few weeks to refocus on business-as-usual — resurrecting the house, finally toting the holiday decorations back to the garage, and generally getting back into a healthy routine — we’re thoroughly bored with our resolutions and ready for an excuse to party once more.  Luckily, Chinese New Year is upon us.  Welcome, Year of the Dragon.

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Immigrants understand the power of a favorite snack to soothe and comfort.  The tastes of an adopted country may satisfy, but we crave the morsels of childhood—especially those left behind, continents away. Serendipity rewards the optimist though, sometimes at unexpected moments.  A fruit-laden loquat tree is discovered in a neighbor’s yard, thousands of miles from its native soil.  Bitter melon seeds carried across the ocean in a suitcase, sprout in adopted terrain.

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Cauliflower “steaks” flavored with cumin, coriander and sweet paprika. See the recipe below...

This past weekend, a dear friend was visiting from the east coast.  When Jane lived nearby our families often met to share the evening meal. Everyone enjoyed these gatherings — for the pleasure of great company, food and cooking together.  We found ourselves recreating the experience one night during her recent stay, chopping, stirring and laughing as we worked.  Later we lingered at the table, long after the last bite.  The melding of friends and food casts its spell like a magical tonic — filling bellies to bursting with flavorful morsels and merriment.  We’re helpless to resist.

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While baking holiday cookies doesn’t involve local produce (my usual subject), it includes other locally-sourced ingredients; for starters there’s dairy and nuts (sometimes walnuts from our own backyard trees).  Humanely-raised Glaum Rancheggs are cracked into the mixing bowl (they arrive each week in our farm bag delivery).  Sometimes we drizzle organic honey that’s produced in a gnarly, old fruit orchard nestled in a nearby Sunnyvale neighborhood (available only from Freshness Farms).  Plus we’re making the goodies ourselves — no packaging or long-distance shipping.  Now that’s local.  The best part is the pleasure that permeates a kitchen full of busy bakers humming to holiday music as they mix, measure (and taste) — no “bah, humbug” around these parts.

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