Winter Solstice: dumplings, tangyuan and counting the nines

On an American calendar the solstice is the first day of winter. On the Chinese calendar winter started six weeks earlier, at Start of Winter, and the solstice is the middle of it: the shortest day, and the start of the coldest stretch.

This year the solstice arrives at 3:50 p.m. Eastern on Monday, December 21. In China it's already the next morning, so Chinese calendars list it on Tuesday, December 22. Families here usually go with whichever evening suits them.

"The solstice is as big as New Year"

冬至大如年 dōng zhì dà rú nián The Winter Solstice is as big as New Year.

That saying is old, and for a long stretch of history it was close to literally true. In the Zhou dynasty, about 3,000 years ago, the calendar started the year in the month that contained the solstice. Even after New Year moved, the solstice kept its weight.

In the Han dynasty officials stopped work around the solstice and rested. In the Ming and Qing dynasties the emperor made the most important sacrifice of the year on this day, to Heaven, at the Circular Mound Altar (圜丘Yuánqiū) at the Temple of Heaven (天坛Tiāntán) in Beijing. You can still stand on it.

The thinking behind it comes from yin and yang. The solstice is the point of deepest yin, the most darkness and cold. From here the days grow longer, so it's also the moment yang begins to return:

冬至一阳生 dōng zhì yī yáng shēng At the Winter Solstice, the first yang is born.

That's a fair description of the astronomy too. From here until the June solstice, every day in the Northern Hemisphere is a little longer than the one before.

Dumplings in the north

If you grew up with a northern family, you probably know this one:

冬至不端饺子碗，冻掉耳朵没人管 dōng zhì bù duān jiǎo zi wǎn, dòng diào ěr duo méi rén guǎn If you don't pick up a bowl of dumplings at the solstice, nobody will care when your ears freeze off.

It's the same joke families tell at Start of Winter, and it comes with the same folk story: the Han dynasty doctor 张仲景Zhāng Zhòngjǐng wrapping mutton and warming herbs in ear-shaped dough for villagers with frostbitten ears. The solstice is where the story usually lives. It's a legend, not a historical record, but it's the reason a lot of northern families make dumplings on this day without thinking twice.

Some families eat lamb soup or wonton (馄饨hún tun) instead. Old Beijing had a saying for that, recorded in a Qing-era almanac of the city's customs: 冬至馄饨夏至面dōng zhì hún tun xià zhì miàn, "wonton at the winter solstice, noodles at the summer solstice." Wonton is a solstice food around Suzhou too.

Tangyuan in the south

In much of southern China, Taiwan and Southeast Asian Chinese communities, the solstice food is 汤圆tāng yuán: glutinous rice balls in a sweet soup, sometimes filled with black sesame or peanut, sometimes plain and pink and white. 圆yuán means round, and roundness stands for the family being whole and together.

There's a saying that goes with them: 吃了汤圆大一岁chī le tāng yuán dà yī suì, "eat your tangyuan and you're a year older." It's a leftover from the time when the solstice really did turn the year. Kids hear it as a reason to eat more.

Cantonese families say 冬大過年 (dung1 daai6 gwo3 nin4 in Jyutping), "the solstice is bigger than New Year," and treat the evening as a reason to gather for a big family dinner, called 做冬 (zou6 dung1), "doing the winter." Many also make offerings to their ancestors before they eat.

The day is kept elsewhere in East Asia too. Korean families eat red bean porridge (팥죽 patjuk) on 동지 dongji, and in Japan people soak in baths with yuzu floating in the water.

Counting the nines

The solstice also starts a countdown. Starting on the day itself, the next 81 days are split into nine "nines" (数九shǔ jiǔ, counting the nines). When the ninth nine is over, the worst of winter is too. Northern children learn a rhyme that walks through them; this is the most common version. Here it is with this winter's dates, counting from December 22, the date on the Chinese calendar:

The rhyme describes Beijing weather, so don't expect your local river to keep to it. Spring rarely does.

A chart for the long nights

Families used to hang a 九九消寒图jiǔ jiǔ xiāo hán tú, a "nine nines chart for dispelling the cold," and fill in one piece every day. There were two popular kinds:

• A plum branch. Draw nine plum blossoms with nine petals each, 81 petals in all. Color in one petal a day. By the last one, the branch is in full bloom.
• Nine characters. The Qing court used the line 亭前垂柳珍重待春風 (tíng qián chuí liǔ zhēn zhòng dài chūn fēng), "the willow by the pavilion waits patiently for the spring wind." Written in traditional form, the way the chart was drawn, each of the nine has nine strokes. Write the characters in outline and fill in one stroke a day.

The plum branch is easy for small kids. The characters are a good way for older kids to practice stroke order, one stroke at a time. (Use the traditional form 風, not the simplified 风, or the last character runs out of strokes in four days.)

How to mark it at home

Pick one or two:

• Make tangyuan. They're simpler than they look: glutinous rice flour, water, and a filling if you want one. Here's our black sesame recipe. Most Asian grocery stores also sell good frozen ones.
• Or make dumplings. If your family is from the north, this is the day. Pork and napa cabbage is the classic.
• Eat together. It's a Monday this year, so a late dinner counts.
• Start a nines chart. Draw a plum branch on paper, put it on the fridge, and let the kids color a petal every evening until March 12.
• Watch the sunset. Note the time. Check again in a few weeks and see how much later it's gotten.

Ask your grandparents

Bring these to your next call or visit. Write down what they say, in their words.

1. Did your family eat dumplings, tangyuan or something else at the solstice?
2. Was it a big day where you grew up, or barely noticed?
3. Did anyone in your family make offerings to the ancestors that day? What did they put out?
4. Did you ever count the nines, or hang a chart for the cold? Do you remember the rhyme?