rice dumplings (粽子: zòng zi) are a rather antiquated tradition passed down from our ancestors: when a celebrated and patriotic poet – qu yuan, of the warring states period in chinese history – drowned himself, these triangular dumplings were devised to be thrown into the river for the fish to eat so they would leave his body alone.
on a more snarky less serious note, the dumplings probably had a dual purpose – not only tasty enough to prove sufficient distraction for those gullible fish, the glutinous rice is so stodgy as to end up leaden in their stomachs. I put forth the hypothesis that our ancestors were both clever and merciless.
I feel almost culpable – I’m part of the generation that’s consigning this tradition to near obscurity and do-if-convenient. one day I will learn to make this – even if I’m not sure I’ll ever finish eating one on my own.
so, if you’re making efforts to keep up cultural traditions, I salute you. and in the meantime, I’ll tell you the best rice dumplings are grandma-made, chock-full of dried mussels, pork, mushrooms, chestnuts, and a salted egg yolk – surrounded by sticky-but-separate rice grains that are soft and not mushy.
p.s. this is a month after the festival – but hey, umm, photos were taken and must be shared!
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