To read Big, Bold and Brave — Year of the Tiger 4708, click here.

To read Gearing Up for the Dragon Boat Festival, click here.

To read Chinese Full Moon Fest, click here.

Inside the Dragon — San Francisco Chinese New Year Parade Secrets
by Rosemary Gong

In America, the Lunar New Year has a habit of sneaking up on you. Squeezed in between Super Bowl Sunday and President’s Day, the arrival of the new moon sparks a full blown social schedule of parties, street fairs, beauty pageants, and parades throughout Chinatowns, uptown and downtown, nationwide.

In San Francisco’s Chinatown, it’s a bustling business as lions, dragons and astrological creatures of the Chinese calendar are called upon to illuminate the streets for the biggest block party of its kind outside Asia. And despite the Bay Area’s significant Asian population, estimated at 30 percent, when you look in the parade stands, it’s clear that you don’t need to be Chinese to celebrate the Chinese New Year.

In fact, if you pull back the glittering curtain of the city’s Chinese New Year Parade you’d find a few unlikely suspects who are instrumental to producing the event ranked as one of the Top 10 Parades in the World by the International Festival and Event Association. Peggy Kennedy, a crystal-blue-eyed blonde (who has often been mistaken for a “Kennedy,” because she looks like one) has been the parade’s marketing director for nearly two decades overseeing the festival’s corporate sponsorships. Dave Thomas, a brown-eyed brunette who moves and speed-talks like a Robin Williams comedy act, is the muscle behind the majority of the parade’s floats and festival props. And if you look underneath the drapery of the Gum Lung gold dragon, you’ll find Lanceford Chong, a Boston-based doctor who left the Bay Area over a decade ago but travels to San Francisco every year to fall under the dragon’s spell, which has held him mesmerized since age 10. They may not all speak Chinese, but they know the language of the Lunar New Year.

The Blonde Who Thinks She’s Chinese

In the 1980s, when Peggy Kennedy’s events company, Koster Kennedy, produced former Mayor Art Agnos’ inaugural gala featuring the diverse ethnic neighborhoods of San Francisco, the Chinese Chamber of Commerce took notice. The Chinese New Year parade had grown beyond Chinatown’s geography in scope and size and the Chamber wanted to take it to a national platform and they needed a pro.

“The Chinese Chamber had a vision to educate Americans about Chinese culture and make it more accessible,” says Kennedy, the San Francisco Chinese New Year Festival Marketing Director and 19-year veteran to the parade. “They were looking to convert an ethnic community celebration into a televised event and national destination. But it wasn’t the money first and foremost to them. They didn’t want to be like other national parades. It was crucial that the parade maintain its unique personality and reflect the community. So my mission was to recruit corporate sponsors yet, at the same time, maintain the Chinese culture.”

Inside Kennedy was pinching herself. Early on, no one was aware that she had independently developed an Asian Studies major during her Mills College days, which included East and South Asian philosophy, history, culture, and arts. “People would ask me what I was going to do after studying Asian Studies – but I didn’t care, it was where my heart was. This opportunity fell in my lap and it was beyond anything I could envision.”

During the early days of collaborating with the Chinese Chamber, Kennedy held her education close to her vest when working with the ethnic Chinese, “I thought it better to seem kind of smart, than to appear really stupid. But after a few years, I would get astonished looks and comments like ‘how did you know that?’ and I just had to come clean,” she chuckles.

“Today they tell me, ‘you’re more Chinese than me,’” and nothing satisfies Kennedy’s Irish eyes more.

“But you’re not Chinese,” is a common refrain Kennedy hears when she meets corporate sponsors for the first time, the majority who are nationally based. She says before meeting in person, many sponsors assume she’s Chinese American who married outside. Kennedy enjoys responding to such comments with a dead pan expression and replying, “I’m not?” followed by a hearty laugh. In fact, lots of laughter is required in Kennedy’s business.

When she first began to solicit for national sponsors in the late 1980s, the reception wasn’t so warm. In order to gain the prestige that the Chamber envisioned, high-profile national sponsors were needed to build out TV broadcast viewing units. Kennedy started cold calling marketing departments and found the voice on the other line bone-chilling cold.

“First, I was calling to ask for a sponsorship package when companies were used to either donating goods or running an advertisement. Second, it was for some strange event out in San Francisco. Third, it was for the Chinese community. It was a lot of cold calling, lots of rejection, lots of what are you talking about, and why would I be interested in that?” Kennedy said.

The effective answer to those questions came in the 1990 U.S. Census, when marketers began to recognize the size and purchasing power of the Asian audience. By 1992, Kennedy found the voices on the other end of a cold call warmer and receptive. Marketers had discovered the Asian market was not only a significant percentage of San Francisco at approximately 23 percent, but its growth was exponentially greater in relation to other population segments in California and the income, education, and home ownership levels were also higher. And Kennedy began to line up lead sponsors with long term commitments.

Kennedy admits that the sponsorships have made the Chinese New Year Parade what it is today and it isn’t far from what the Chinese Chamber of Commerce originally envisioned over 20 years ago. The positive residual effect of going “corporate” enables parade participation for numerous non-profit community groups, cultural organizations, public elementary and language schools, and performing arts troupes because of the funding that trickles down to them.

“It’s a wonderful thing to see the kids out there with their hand-made astrological animal costumes. They’re so proud wearing their creations, marching in unison and waving to the crowd. It’s a big deal because children are so central in the Chinese culture.”

Although coined the “Chinese” New Year due to the event’s Chinatown origins, it should be noted that the Lunar New Year is also recognized in many Asian countries including Vietnam, Cambodia, Indonesia, Singapore, and Malaysia. For San Francisco’s Chinatown parade, everyone comes out -- Japanese Taiko drummers, Vietnamese lion dancers from San Jose, Korean troupes from Oakland, South Indian dancers from the South Bay, the Southeast Asians, Pacific Islanders, and Filipinos across the Bay Area as well as the Gay and Lesbian Marching Band. It truly reflects and celebrates the diversity of the entire San Francisco Bay Area.

Collaborating with the sponsors on the float concepts is when Kennedy draws from her Asian studies background. She scours Chinese astrology reference guides to identify the animal year and its auspicious significance. Other cultural themes include Chinese legends and fables such as the Monkey King from the classic Journey to the West, the Asian arts of dance, drumming, paper-cuts and calligraphy, and the old Chinese Gods of Fortune – all sprinkled with a broad palette of Chinese symbolism reflecting the five-fold happiness’s of luck, prosperity, longevity, health, and wealth.

For title sponsor, Southwest Airlines, Kennedy and her team has integrated the carrier’s theme of “Letting Luv Take You Places” with a float featuring dragon dancing; and rather than having the dragon chase the traditional Chinese “pearl” on a stick, a heart-shaped ball of fire is the Southwest dragon’s guiding light. Strings of small white lights, fresh flowers, lanterns, and air-blown gold glitter adorn the float as the 180 degree movement of the dragon’s head is controlled by a float technician nestled inside the dragon’s neck.

The Shadow Behind Chinatown

San Francisco’s Chinese New Year parade typically features 15-20 professionally built floats, and one San Francisco-based float company is responsible for approximately two-thirds of them. Serving as Kennedy’s co-creator and master builder is Dave Thomas, owner of East West Floats. Thomas also maintains and stores the majority of displays, props, traditional costumes, and accessories for the Chinese Chamber’s new year celebration activities.

When the steel warehouse door at Pier 27 is raised, an operatic stage emerges with 10-foot Chinese deities, royal thrones, golden stallions, flying pigs, terra cotta warriors, 12-foot pillars of giant firecrackers, and miles and miles of flat-beds. Its part and parcel of a Chinatown built for Godzilla. Thomas describes it as, “where magic happens.”

“I look at small things in a big way. It started when Chinatown began to give me all their garbage. Old lion heads, old dragon heads, old robes, drapery, textiles, odds and ends of signs and display pieces, and we used it to build a visual banquet.”

Over the past 20 years, Thomas has virtually lived and breathed the Chinese New Year Parade. “Because the Chinese like to identify people by their functions, at first I was ‘the karate guy,’ then I became the ‘costume and prop’ guy…now I’m the ‘float builder.’ But, I’m really the Chinese stuff guy.”

In the mid 80s, it was “the San Francisco Chinese New Year Parade or bust” for Thomas when he arrived on the scene with his non-Chinese San Jose-based martial arts school. “I couldn’t get into the parade because I didn’t have a Chinese school, so we sneaked in with a friend’s school that needed more bodies. We ended up bringing in a troupe of 100 which was an impressive number back then,” says Thomas.

To conceal their identities the students wore golden masks while performing Kung Fu on the street and at the end of the parade, they pulled off their masks and revealed their true selves. It was an immediate crowd pleaser. Thomas then continued to rabble-rouse throughout Chinatown until the Chinese Chamber of Commerce called him into their offices and he found Chamber members David Lei, Calvin Louie, and Wayne Hu waiting for him.

“I only knew Wayne on the periphery. I was kind of scared of him because he was the head of the parade at the time,” Thomas says.

Thomas recalls the conversation as Hu saying how good talent is hard to find and how talent and commitment needs to be nurtured and developed. Slowly, Thomas began to comprehend the conversation when he muscled up the courage to ask, “Are you offering me a job?”

They nodded affirmatively. The Chinese Chamber wanted Thomas to keep building and storing the Chinese props and they were going to pay him. They also mentioned he didn’t need to wear that mask anymore.

Thomas felt elated, like he had been touched by the Jade Emperor, until he also heard whispered in the same breath ‘…but let’s keep it between us.’ And, this is how Dave Thomas, who self-describes himself as ‘the shadow behind Chinatown,’ came to be.

Thomas is a heavy consumer of Chinese films, Asian art books, and cultural performances. He stalks the aisles of Chinatown for samples of what he can reproduce and build out by 10 times the size of the original. He admits he selects items based on what his eye regards as Chinese, although he’s never been to China.

“I visualize a picture for a parade division, build it, and apply a dash of showmanship. I try to polish it by adding a dab of professionalism. It requires commitment and love for the show,” says Thomas.

Thomas adheres to a few given parameters when building a float. They must be able to maneuver tight corners so they can only span 50-feet in length and can only go as high as 14-feet because of the Muni bus wires. Also, the float concept has to be visually concise and straightforward so the crowd can “get it” in the span of a few seconds. Thomas’ biggest challenge is building to scale. His reference points are often four to six inches in size.

“We only get one shot at it and only until the float is on the street, in its proper surroundings, do we know whether it works or looks something like a postage stamp,” says Thomas who builds approximately 150 floats a year for various San Francisco parades that include Japantown’s Cherry Blossom Festival and the Mission District’s Carnivale.

Building with waterproof materials is a given to Thomas. “The parade happens whether it’s rain, shine or heat stroke. It’s something uncontrollable – so the floats are made for it. I see rain as kind of good for parades. The Chinese New Year Parade actually goes about 3-5 years without a storm and then we get a good one. It’s nature’s way of cleaning. Everything that was kind of ratty gets rendered totally useless and we need to start anew.”

Thomas and his team live by the clock. Centrally displayed in the facility is a countdown clock to parade day. “To me a sign of failure is not being out of the warehouse by 6 p.m. the night before the parade. We want our people to be out of here and rested for the big day.”

Mid-morning on parade day, UPS drivers begin arriving at East West Floats and as Thomas rolls up his warehouse door, a Lunar New Year spectacle awaits to be released onto the streets.

“We’re very fortunate that UPS brings in their crew. They’re extremely dependable, committed, and take good care,” according to Thomas.

Local UPS drivers donate their time and services to the Chinese New Year by driving all the sponsor floats to assure safety first and foremost. “They show up together, bring their families, and have the best tailgate party in town. They’re truly devoted to the community – and you don’t have to be a chicken in a bikini to join them.”

The Torch of Tradition

Meanwhile, in the heart of Chinatown, at the White Crane Martial Arts School, parade uniforms of red satin pants and white sweatshirts are being distributed to the performers and volunteers assigned to the parade’s grand finale, the Gum Lung dragon and lion dance performance. And Dr. Lanceford Chong, 58, has just flown in from Boston to collect his uniform for the 48th time since he began participating in the Chinese New Year Parade at the age of 10.

As a boy in the early 1960s, Chong, a San Jose native, remembers spending his weekends in San Francisco’s Chinatown where his extended family had a laundry on Kearny Street. Chong, an oncology radiologist with Commonwealth Hematology Oncology in the greater Boston area, remembers the Chinese New Year as a time when lion dancers traveled in the back of open produce trucks with drums, gongs, and cymbals. A driver in an accompanying station wagon would announce, “Happy New Year, collecting money for the Chinese Hospital,” to rally the crowds for the lion dancers who would perform “blessings” as they went door-to-door for donations.

“The family associations would prepare for the lion dancers by having a metal pan of water, heads of lettuce (a symbol of luck which lions feast on), oranges (for wealth), lai see (red envelopes containing “lucky” money), and a long string of firecrackers hanging off the second floor balcony. The lion dancers would perform amidst exploding firecrackers and it would take hours as they visited each storefront on Grant Avenue. It was a very electric time. They’d go up and down each street in Chinatown raising funds for the community’s hospital.”

“During the last weekend of the new year, the martial arts schools would recruit volunteers to help with the lion and dragon dancing for the big parade. I chose the dragon because it didn’t need any special timing or choreography that lion dancing needs,” recalls Chong, who was a fifth grader when he started at the end of the line, the dragon’s tail.

At 14, Chong’s height and athletic build, due to competitive league swimming, got him moved up to the dragon’s neck and, three decades later, he still gets exhilarated by holding his spot up front near the dragon’s head.

“Over the years, the dragons have changed and we’ve had to adapt to them. The biggest challenge was the new Gum Lung (golden dragon) that previewed in the Year of the Dragon, the millennial year. Before, there was only one man in the head, but the new dragon’s head is a longer style and has two poles, one in front of the other, requiring that it be handled by two experienced men,” explains Chong.

This particular dragon has reigned over the Chinese New Year parade ever since. Custom built by China’s Foshan dragon masters, San Francisco’s Gum Lung possesses a 6-foot long head and spans 201 feet. A licensed electrician is recruited to light it from within. Constructed of bamboo and rattan, the dragon consists of 29 segments and needs a small army of 100 people to assemble and carry it throughout the evening.

Section by section as the dragon takes shape all movement at the studio is reduced to slow motion care. The dragon is gently lifted, maneuvered, and carried out of the studio, head first – as the Imperial Court dictated – while the percussionists begin beating to the dragon’s rhythm.

“Once inside the dragon, the spirit lifts you. You just move. It’s visceral and second nature,” says Chong.

With the television broadcast, it’s imperative that the dragon and accompanying lion dance teams are in front of the cameras at Union Square for the parade’s grand finale shortly before 8 p.m. This stipulation has occasionally required the fire-breather to gallop along with its entourage of lion dancers to center stage. When the dragon approaches the viewing area it bows to the crowd. He smoothly snakes and slithers down the street. White steam majestically spews from his mouth while thousands of firecrackers made of red paper and gunpowder explode at his feet.

As the dragon casts his spell for the stands, Chong says, “It’s surreal what happens under that glowing dragon while dancing on top of the firecrackers. It’s raw, pure exhilaration.” But a word of warning, don’t try this at home.

Seventeen city blocks later the dragon returns full circle to the White Crane studio and Gum Lung is dismantled with the same care as he was assembled. Segment by segment, its parts are folded, packed, and crated for another year of hibernation.

“There’s lots of camaraderie and joy during the Chinese New Year. I feel privileged to bring the dragon to life. It gives me pride for where I came from. For me, this is tradition,” explains Chong.

And this year, Chong’s son, Ryan, a 25-year-old filmmaker from Los Angeles, will be accompanying his dad to help carry on the family tradition of getting inside the Gum Lung dragon. “When Ryan was little, he always hung around the dragon. He’d often sit on the back of the truck with the musicians holding his own little lion.”

Chong continued, “While I’m under that dragon, I think of my family, now gone, on the sidewalk sitting in their folding chairs watching the parade. I can see them smiling and applauding for carrying on tradition because that’s what Chinese New Year is about. It represents everything – everything that came before, is here today, and will come tomorrow. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

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Big, Bold and Brave — Year of the Tiger 4708
by Rosemary Gong

As America is embracing her ethnic diversity, the Chinese New Year celebration is becoming as common as St. Patrick’s Day, Cinco de Mayo, and Columbus Day. When the new lunar year arrives on February 14, we say goodbye to the Year of the Ox and hello to the Year of the Tiger. This means that people born on or after Chinese New Year day in 1926, 1938, 1950, 1962, 1974, 1986, 1998, 2010 and every 12 years thereafter will have an especially auspicious year. Tigers are known to be courageous, protective, energetic, optimistic, and self-assured. They’re most compatible with dogs and horses. Some famous tigers are Queen Elizabeth II, Tony Bennett, Tom Cruise, Penelope Cruz, Jay Leno, Jon Stewart, Leo DiCaprio, Demi Moore, Jon Bon Jovi, and Stevie Wonder.

The year of the tiger can be turbulent and volatile. It’s a time of political upheaval, international crises, and natural catastrophes. It’s no time to be meek or mild. Nerves of steel are the order of the day. Take advantage to inject renewed vitality into a lagging project. By year-end, the tiger’s heat will diminish allowing for the peace and tranquility for an approaching rabbit year.

According to legend, a great race was held by the Earth God to establish the lunar calendar and the first 12 animals to finish would be represented. The nearly blind but speedy ox agreed to carry the rat and the cat on his back during the race to help him navigate. The ox’s team was in the lead to the finish line when the rat pushed the cat off the oxen’s back and jumped ahead to win the race. The rat was declared the race’s winner, the ox was second, and the cat never placed. It’s no wonder that cats and rats have been sworn enemies ever since.

You don’t have to be Chinese to celebrate Chinese New Year. Anyone who loves Chinese food, celebration, and red envelopes of lucky money qualifies. The Chinese pursuit of luck and happiness can be practiced by everyone since there’s no distinction among the races during this most celebrated holiday of the most populous people around the world.

This 15-day celebration can be distilled to five “f” words. Now, don’t be scared! The five facets of Chinese New Year are: Family, Friends, Food, Flowers, and Fortune. The holiday is centered on family unity with the most important requirement being the family dinner on Chinese New Year Eve to usher in the New Year.

If a family doesn’t share Chinese New Year Eve dinner, the family’s heart will grow cold.

Dinner is often served on a large round table since the circle signifies the completeness of a family. Poultry and fish are served whole as the Chinese believe that dishes served in pieces are “broken.” The most significant New Year’s dish is a monks’ vegetarian dish called “jai” because each of its ingredients connotes luck, prosperity, and longevity. And no Chinese New Year would be complete without mounds of tangerines for luck, oranges for wealth, and pomelos for prosperity.

After homes undergo a serious spring cleaning, they’re decorated with fresh colorful flowers, the most popular being quince blossoms to promote prosperity, narcissus for fortune, and peony for wealth. Red “lucky papers” with auspicious sentiments for the New Year are hung on the home’s front door and the family is outfitted in new clothes from head to toe.

Red envelopes of “lucky money” are distributed by adults to youngsters and single adults as a wish of fortune. Denominations vary based on your relationship to the child but it’s acceptable to give a dollar or the cost of a candy bar to the neighbor’s children. This stems from the old Chinese beliefs that great wealth is realized through giving, and that money wrapped in red multiplies. The Chinese also can’t resist lighting firecrackers, although they’re illegal in most cities. These sticks of “exploding bamboo” create a change in energy, deliver new beginnings, and provide protection from harm.

Chinese New Year is a time of renewal, reflection, and optimism. It’s a celebration to clear away the old and welcome the new. By looking forward with optimism, generosity, and laughter we invite good luck. And, who doesn’t need a dose of that these days?

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Gearing Up for the Dragon Boat Festival
by Rosemary Gong

Heads up! The most dangerous day of the year is approaching and it’s time to get ready. The Dragon Boat Festival, also known as Double Fifth, happens on June 16.

Long ago in old China, the fifth day of the fifth lunar month was a day filled with fear. The summer months meant the onset of infectious disease due to the hot humid weather that caused infestation and contaminated waters.

Today, as the Dragon Boat Festival moves into full swing, the anxiety has evaporated. The festival’s activities range from making joong - sticky rice packets occasionally referred to as Chinese tamales - to attending city festivals where the main event is dragon boat racing.

The festival exists in remembrance of a Chinese poet who tragically perished over 2000 years ago. On Double Fifth 221 BCE, Qu Yuan, a poet and political adviser from the Warring States period, became so distraught when his beloved Qu state fell under its rival Qin rule that he threw himself into the Miluo River. When word spread throughout the village, fishermen grabbed their paddles and jumped into their boats in an attempt to save him. They frantically paddled up and down the river, wildly splashing the fish away for a glimpse of him, but the poet was never found.

In resignation, grains of rice were thrown into the river, as an offering to the lost poet’s spirit, and also so that fish wouldn’t feed on his body. Some two hundred years later, Qu Yuan’s ghost appeared to the villagers, lamenting that the rice thrown into the river was being consumed by the greedy fish and river dragon. Not a grain was left for him. He instructed the villagers to wrap the rice in bamboo leaves and tie the bundles in string the colors of the emperor – red, black, white, blue, and yellow to serve as an amulet.

Making Joong

Today, white kitchen string is used for tying rice packets referred to as joong (zongzi in Mandarin) but the practice still requires planning, preparation and a small, efficient crew to fold and assemble them. Joong is sticky rice wrapped in bamboo leaves and there are two types. The “salty” version consists of sticky rice, Chinese sausage, a slice of salted or marinated pork, dried shrimp, salted egg yolk, peanuts, and chestnuts. The sweet rice version is gooey, gelatinous, and the color of a yellow river. It’s often filled with black bean paste and is served with white granulated sugar for dipping to satisfy the sweet tooth. The process of making joong can take 3-4 days. But once all the ingredients are prepped, mothers, daughters, aunties and nieces unite to assemble, fold, wrap and boil these tasty Chinese treats. For those who are less inclined for such a culinary adventure, joong are available for purchase year-round in many Chinese bakeries and dim sum delis.

Racing Dragon Boats

As a reenactment to the fishermen who raced out in their boats in an attempt to save Qu Yuan, dragon boat festivals and races are held throughout the world. Teams of dragon boat racers gather to the water’s edge for a splash of competition, with the season from February to October.

Whether racer or spectator, one can’t help but catch the spirit of an international dragon boat festival’s opening ceremonies when the teams’ boats are being assembled. Taoist priests wearing robes and headpieces perform rites to bless the colorful boats with incense and firecrackers. Team members assemble their boats by attaching the vibrantly painted dragon heads at the bow and the tail at the stern. Once the “heart” of the boat – the drum - is perched in position at the front of the boat, it’s ready for competition.

Teams race in 50 foot long teak or fiberglass dragon boats that typically carry a crew of 20 paddlers, a drummer and a steersperson who barks commands to hold steady or surge forward. The boat’s drummer, who sits at the drum facing the crew, establishes the rhythmic beat to unify and inspire the paddlers. The two strokes in the front set the cadence to fire up the muscles of the crew. A typical course spans 500 to 1,300 meters, but unfamiliar waters and unfavorable weather can make the relatively short journey unpredictable.

The governing body for the sport of dragon boat racing is the International Dragon Boat Federation. IDBF is the sponsor of the World Club Crew Championships, featuring the world’s best clubs held in even-numbered years; and the World Dragon Boat Championships, consisting of national teams in odd numbered years. The venues for these best-of-class events rotate each year and have been held in metropolitan centers such as Hong Kong, Nottingham, Auckland, Vancouver, Rome, Cape Town and Yueyang, China, which is considered the birthplace of the sport.

Through the coordinated efforts of globally-based dragon boat federations and associations, teams compete at qualifying dragon boat sporting events for a chance to race in the world championships. Dragon boat racing is a fast-growing sport beginning to receive worldwide recognition.

On a local level, dragon boat racing is an easily accessible recreational and competitive sport, requiring little training or equipment beyond a dragon boat, drum and paddles. Varying levels of teams – novice, competitive, men’s, women’s, coed, senior, youth - stipulate no restrictions to age, sex, or level of competency. The ability to swim is considered advantageous, and splashing is required.

The two largest dragon boat races in North America are held in Canada: the Vancouver Alcan Dragon Boat Festival and Toronto’s International Dragon Boat Race Festival. An estimated 200 teams compete at these qualifying races for the year’s premier competition sponsored by the IDBF. Other widely attended dragon boat competitions are the New York City International Dragon Boat Race Festival, Portland-Kaohsiung Sister City Association Dragon Boat Races and the San Francisco International Dragon Boat Championships. There are now more than 40 dragon boat festivals and races held in cities across the U.S.

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Chinese Full Moon Fest
by Rosemary Gong

Ok, I admit it. I hold my breath and make a small wish every time I drive through a tunnel. I also make small wishes on shooting stars and on a full moon – any full moon. As for big wishes, those I dare not verbalize, they’re reserved for the mid-autumn moon. It’s the moon that never fails to steal my breath away. It’s the moon that’s coming to a sky nearest you on September 22.

The Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival, the 15th day of the eighth lunar month, is when the earth and moon are closest in proximity, which explains the illusion that the autumn moon is at arm’s length. Casually referred to as the Moon Festival, it was a celebration for a successful harvest in the old agrarian society. But today the holiday centers on reunion, family unity, and giving thanks around the dinner table. With myth, history, family, food, and friends, the Mid-Autumn Festival has all the ingredients to awaken the senses and taste buds.

For me, one of the key attractions for a family gathering is a hearty meal and the Mid-Autumn Festival dinner never fails to satiate my body and spirit. Families dine banquet style either at home or in a restaurant. Dinner entrées include family favorites that typically total five, seven, or nine dishes - the yang numbers the Chinese consider lucky.

One of the most popular Moon Festival foods is taro. This potato-like starchy vegetable was first discovered under the mid-autumn moon by the Ming dynasty’s army and it’s credited with saving many lives from starvation while the soldiers were defending China’s coastline. My mom’s favorite taro dish is stewed duck with taro slices from San Francisco’s Great Eastern Restaurant. It’s rich, hearty comfort food that comes in a sauce worthy of drowning your steamed rice in.

The Cantonese also enjoy sautéed snails as a Moon Festival dinner course. These tasty morsels established peace among two neighboring Guangdong Province farmers who were incensed with one another over these common garden pests. Plagued with multiplying snails, each farmer attempted to exterminate them by dumping the problem on to each other’s property. It took the ingenuity of a Qing dynasty magistrate to settle the dispute by serving them to the unsuspecting farmers during the Mid-Autumn Festival dinner. The mollusks were a culinary hit. Thereafter, snails became a regional favorite - and a treasured commodity.

Remember to pace yourself during dinner and leave room for dessert. A main event of the evening is sharing moon cakes under the moonlight. Moon cakes symbolize heavenly blessings of longevity and good health, and their roundness means completion and unity. During the mid-autumn season, moon cakes are ubiquitous since they are gifted to family, friends, and business associates, like a holiday fruitcake - but the similarity ends there.

Moon cakes contain fillings of sweet black or brown bean pastes, lotus seed, sugared melon, or dried fruit, nuts, and seeds. The molasses-colored pastry crust is imprinted with special wooden molds depicting decorative designs of flowers or folktale characters such as the Jade Rabbit or the Moon Goddess. Moon cakes are purchased with or without egg yolks baked in the center. They can be ordered in single, double, or triple yolk varieties. Egg yolks connote the moon’s roundness and the family’s completeness. The egg’s saltiness is a nice complement to the sweet paste but it can be considered an acquired taste for westerners. When giving moon cakes as gifts, give them with one yolk – or more if you want to make an impression. Moon cakes are typically packaged in boxes of four and are available in Chinese bakeries and Asian markets.

While moon cake tasting, it’s fitting to remember the historic role moon cakes played when Han leader Liu Fu Tong hid secret messages inside the sweet pastries during the Mid-Autumn Festival. The moon cake messages organized the rebels’ allies and helped overthrow the Mongolian Yuan dynasty which led to the era of the Ming dynasty in 1368. Thus, moon cakes could be considered a distant cousin to the Chinese-American invention of message filled fortune cookies.

The evening’s dessert is taken al fresco – or near the window, should weather not permit. Moon cakes are stacked into a pyramid of thirteen – representing happiness all year round – as there are 13 months to a lunar year. Other symbolic items served include apples for peace, pomegranates for fertility, peanuts for long life, and other round shaped fruits such as Asian pears, grapes, persimmons, and melon. Hot tea is a given.

Decorate the dessert table with gourds to connote long-lasting togetherness. Paper lanterns in the shapes of butterflies, fish, birds, and horses are also hung for the outdoor festivities. Horses are especially auspicious because of the old Chinese saying that the moon travels at the speed of the horse. Lanterns are also available in shapes of toys for the kids such as airplanes, rockets, and popular cartoon characters.

When gazing at the moon, silent wishes are made to the mythological Moon Goddess – Chang E. Known as Chang-O or Shiang-O in Cantonese, she achieved heavenly status after drinking the elixir of immortality. The potion originally belonged to her husband, Hou Yi, the Divine Archer, who received it as a heavenly reward for saving earth by successfully shooting down nine threatening suns and leaving one to nourish the planet. He hid the luminescent elixir away for safekeeping but when his wife discovered it, she couldn’t resist. Instantaneously Chang-E grew weightless and floated out of their palace windows and beyond Hou Yi’s grasp. Upon arriving on the moon, Chang-E grew ill, and coughed up the elixir. The weightless shimmering liquid transformed into a jade white rabbit, which marked the birth of the Jade Rabbit - also known as the Moon Hare, Chang-E’s constant companion. Hou Yi had no recourse but to accept his wife’s fate. Resigned, he built her a luminous celestial palace in a grove of cinnamon trees. Upon hearing of the couple’s fate, the heavenly gods were moved and compassionately ruled that Chang-E and Hou Yi be reunited once a month, on the fifteenth day of every lunar month, the full moon, forever and ever. Perhaps this is why Chinese children were told to never point at the moon in the old days. Chang-E and Hou Yi may be looking.

Under the mid-autumn moon, it’s said that families separated by distance are reunited in spirit while reflecting on the same moon at the same moment. Many overseas Chinese used the full autumn moon to spiritually reconnect with far-flung family members by knowing that they were gazing at the very same moon. It’s a moment of remembrance, thanksgiving and, lest not forget, wishing.

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