Out & About #873 | Chinese New Year Visuals

During my childhood years, Chinese New Year was primarily an at-home event - either undertaken as a weekend celebration or incorporated as an after-school activity. Amongst my peers, there was minimal awareness surrounding the event; at the time, I had found a given, seeing that none shared the same ethnic background.

​However, with each passing year, knowledge about the holiday seems to surge at a global level. These days, it's not uncommon to find physical sources of information at Indigo or even greeting cards at the local Rexall. As the festivities become more well-known though, it has also given rise to terminology debates.
Like most Chinese Canadians and Americans, I've referred to the day as "Chinese New Year". In recent years, we've reworded references to "Lunar New Year" to include other cultures that also celebrate. "Lunar" is an inclusive reference, but it should be noted that customs are vary vastly across regions within the same country, let alone different cultures and ethnic backgrounds. Both terms are valid, yet not indicative of any particular practices. 

​Showcased on this space are my household's traditions, which are Cantonese Chinese in nature. However, there are many methods of welcoming the arrival of a new year - and to each their own. To the comprehensive cluster of celebrators, Happy Lunar New Year! And to those celebrating the Chinese way, be it with fish, dumplings, or fenglisu, Happy Chinese New Year!

New Year fare spans a wide variety of items, from elaborate entrées to sweet and savoury snacks. "Smiling" Sesame Balls, known familiarly as 笑口棗, is a popular pick in our household. A tray from Summit Garden had been purchased last year for mid-day munching, but the foil container's contents was very much satiating and reeking of grease.

An air fryer edition was attempted, but not by yours truly. At this point, I will declare my passive role in the construction of all featured New Year sustenance.

The Air Fryer 笑口棗 were crunchy on first day, and coated liberally with sesame seeds for maximum texture. They did not split - "smile" - and adopted a denser profile overall, growing progressively rigid over the following days. This variation was modestly sweet and savoury, and thankfully nowhere near as greasy as the storebought renditions.

​​Classic Nian Gao (or Leen Go/年糕) is an indispensable element of the New Year. Our household favourite features nutty, caramel-like tones of cane sugar in perfect harmony, aromatic coconut milk, and sublime chewiness. The formula was perfected after several years of trial and error, witnessing drastic development since the initial attempt in 2017.
Now, it is my absolute favourite part of welcoming another year, to such an extent that it regularly reenters the post-CNY scene as my choice of birthday cake.

​While most families take to pan-frying centimetre-thick slices (with or without egg) for a grilled mochi-like finish, I gleefully delve into freshly steamed variations without reservation. The supple, subtly sweet qualities of steamed nian gao are incomparable to the stiff, tacky supermarket portions, which are only capable of being revived by additional oil.

The classic New Year Cake contains a small amount of oil in its batter, with a bit more for the pan. Excessive greasing can result in a slick, irregular surface though, thus caution is advised.

After a two-year, COVID-induced hiatus, the New Year Eve Market returned to Fo Guang Shan Temple, albeit subjected to a distinct reduction in scale. Instead of occupying the entirety of the basement level, the vendor count was halved - no, pared down to one third - of past years.

​We took to updating our assortment of zodiac animal décor with one of the many red and gold rabbit plushies, as well as acquiring some new interior fixtures. Items were priced similarly with previous visits, inducing sighs of relief. A medium-sized bunny set us back $18; the smaller portrayal would ring in just three dollars less.

​From the corner of my eye, I observed merchandise being arranged at the far end of the booth. Naturally, I gravitated towards the display. My gaze fell upon a series of mini rabbits, each clad in an embroidered jumpsuit complete with fur-lined hood. The red one was plucked from the selection, its festive attire and cheerful disposition luring me into its ruse. With bright threaded eyes and an open mouth showcasing one lone tooth, it was impossible to resist copying the little rabbit's contagious smile.

​The hot food bar remained, but utensils were not provided. Visitors were encouraged to purchase for at-home consumption, as masks were to be worn at all times during the event.

​Consistently disastrous dishes swelled in my recollection, yet our hunger got the best of us. Pan-fried radish cake, tofu curd rolls, and a coconut sago dessert soup with purple rice were procured. Retrieving utensils from the trunk, we proceeded to unveil the items.

​Bite-sized pieces of pan-fried radish cake were sampled first. Immediately appalled by their lukewarm conditions, I hesitated before venturing further into the container of greasy cabbage and shredded carrot. The morsels were starchy and dismal, rather than textured and flavourful. A noticeable layer of oil shrouded each piece.
Attempting to eradicate the heaviness with a bite of bean curd, I was, once again, dismayed to find the plastic wrap-encased specimen unyielding and bland. What's worse, the centre of the roll was cold, as if inadequately defrosted for quick sale.

​My expectations for the coconut sago dessert weren't high, and reasonably so. The first spoonful rewarded me with chunks of fresh taro (a shocking revelation!) submerged in a viscous, dimensionless mixture devoid of coconut-y fragrances. Truthfully, we ought to have known better.

​With queasy stomachs, we sealed the containers and headed eastward towards Square One.

Positioned before Holt Renfrew was a limited-time New Year Market featuring Asian-owned business in the GTA. The stalls were positioned adjacent to the art installation, each provided with their own rabbit-themed booth!

​We perused the assortment briefly before continuing to explore other parts of the mall.

​Errands were completed at Walmart and Sukoshi Mart, where an empty red envelope was received (why?). We then leisurely retraced our steps back to Holt Renfrew for the 3 PM Lion Dance.

​A crowd had gathered about the entrance by the 2:50 PM mark. To our surprise, nearly half were those of visibly non-Asian descent. Of the half that were, the majority comprised of young families, usually with young ones dressed in traditional attire in tow.

We took our spot just inside Holt Renfrew's main entrance and patiently awaited arrival of the performance team. Shortly after 3 PM, the drums appeared, along with one yellow 武獅 and one red 武獅. Added to the lineup this year was a jubilant God of Fortune. This 財神 was notably younger than most, often standing a short distance away from the other crew members and allowing the Lion Dance to take the spotlight.

​The Lion Dance travelled from the main entrance of the luxury department store to the concierge desk, then from the Tiffany and Gucci outlets to the cosmetics section. They turned back at secondary entrance and routed through the shoe and toys section, distributing shredded lettuce along each traversed corridor.

​Instead of concluding their route back at the main entrance, the Lions continued to parade about the Grand Rotunda. After completing a loop about the vendor booths, a member of Holt staff was seen guiding the crew along the length of the department store. They then turned into one of the less travelled hallways of the shopping centre, terminating the trip before a lockpad-secured door. Admittedly, it was quite an odd end to the performance.

​The Lions featured in Holt Renfrew's Lion Dance have always been "Southern Lions". Other variations were unknownst to me until this time of writing, however it appears that the array spans Northern Lions, Vietnamese Lions, Korean Lions, and Indonesian Lions - all bearing distinct visual differences.

​We returned home afterwards, with me proceeding to indulge in proper sustenance in an attempt to relieve the dreadful aftereffects of "lunch".

​Chinese New Year Eve dinner comprised of homemade Buddha's Delight and various traditional dishes from Trithis.

Fat Choy (髮菜) is a common constituent of the vegetarian Buddha's Delight, especially during the New Year holiday for its homonymic properties to wishes of prosperity (恭喜發財).

Chicken, abalone, and whole steamed fish are classic Cantonese components of New Year Eve. However, we opted for Shredded Chicken (招牌手撕走地雞) instead - equally delicious, if not more, mind you - Five Flavour Duck (五香鴨), and Garlic Pork Chop (蒜香豬排). Braised Pork Hock (招牌紅燒元蹄) and Pork Tongue with Lettuce and Fat Choy were also requested.

​A wondrous, white vision welcomed us the next morning.

​The amount was adequate to fit the tops of trees with a delicate snowcap, yet minimal enough that no shovelling needed to take place.

​As the Classic Nian Gao had been depleted rapidly in the days leading up to celebration, a modern take on the traditional dessert was undertaken after entering the Year of the Rabbit.

Matcha Nian Gao was revisited using the remaining coconut milk from the first cake. Utilizing 20 g of my expired O-Sulloc, the grassy variation was a tad bitter but nonetheless still fragrant. 
I had been informed that 20 g of glutinous rice flour had been swapped out for matcha, but that all other quantities and procedures remained unaltered. It appeared that the matcha had absorbed the oil in the batter, for the final product emerged with a barely discernible surface sheen, keeping grease fumes at bay and leaving fingertips free of tackiness.

​Coconut milk contributed silkiness, while cane sugar its signature nutty, caramel-like tones. We enjoyed the impeccably velvety slices with a cup of genmaicha.

​When devoured in small quantities, the dessert was quite delicious - spectacular for matcha lovers. Consuming large portions tends to induce lingering bitterness on the tongue, which prompted us to consider reducing the amount of matcha powder in the next trial. Substituting a fresh canister would likely also see improved depth and fragrance.