By the time I turned age 13, it was just my father and I, living together in an apartment in a housing project in the Bronx, in New York City. Several times, in my teen years, I was invited to spend part of the Christmas/New Year's school break with relatives in Brooklyn (and I am still close to my two cousins, who are slightly younger than I am.) But eventually, I found myself alone. Well, for an older teen, being alone with her father can be considered being alone.
Kept company only with my father and Guy Lombardo (although not in 1946 per the above video), I came up with my own New Year's Eve custom. It originated just after I turned 16.
The year before, my father had called his brother, my uncle, right after midnight January 1 our time. But in the time zone my uncle lived in, it was still December 31. I loved the idea of talking to someone living in another year.
So, why not do it with food? Symbolically eat something from the old year just after midnight?
About all I had available and easily made was a jar of peanut butter, some bread from the store and some jelly.
So on December 31, that year I had recently turned 16, and right before midnight (and the New York City ball coming down), I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And after the New Year rang in, I ate it.
I did that for the next several years, believe it or not, until I had a steady boyfriend.
I feel a little foolish admitting this custom, but why? It isn't that ridiculous, after all. About an hour or so from where I live, someone is going to have a family friendly New Years Eve bash, including peanut butter and jelly sliders.
I was just years ahead of my time.
Join Bellybytes at Mumbai on a High and Shilpa Gupte at Metanoia for #FlavoursomeTuesdays.