Celebrating Kwanzaa matches my “more is more” holiday mindset: more opportunities to connect with family and friends, more chances to discover diaspora dishes, and more reasons to innovate with interesting ingredients. From December 26 to January 1, each day is anchored in one of the holiday’s seven principles (unity, self-determination, collective work and responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity, and faith), offering meaningful ways to sustain seasonal vibes for a full week.
I grew up in a household where our holiday festivities focused on Christmas and New Year’s. After relocating to Southern California, we started observing the nonreligious Kwanzaa holiday, too. This gave us seven more days of celebration rooted in African-centered culture, history, and traditions — plus plenty of communal cooking and concocting. Unlike other holidays, during which one cook is often burdened, Kwanzaa’s honoring of collective work calls for camaraderie in the kitchen.
Kwanzaa is often criticized as new or made-up, but it’s rooted in centuries-old African teachings. The word Kwanzaa comes from a Swahili phrase meaning “first fruits,” reflecting weeklong harvest festivals celebrated throughout Africa at the end of one year and start of another. Created in 1966 in Southern California by the activist professor Maulana Karenga, Kwanzaa was designed for Pan-African peoples everywhere to “rescue and reconstruct our history and culture.” I conducted a rare interview with Dr. Karenga when I was writing the Kwanzaa entry for The Oxford Encyclopedia of Food and Drink in America, and he advised to first start with recipes from the African continent when planning fare for Kwanzaa, and then look to its broader diaspora, to dishes like Jamaican brown stew chicken.
As a culinary historian focused on foundational influences of the African crops, peoples, and food cultures that shaped American foodways, I keep in mind my underacknowledged ancestors, who endured indescribable loss and gave multitudes to this New World. I appreciate that Kwanzaa offers a culinary bridge of sorts for their descendants, uprooted and forever disconnected from their African homelands, to reconnect with foods from their place of origin. I also love Kwanzaa’s centrality of sustenance. Its core symbols evoke a place setting: a mat with fruits and vegetables, a unity cup for libations honoring ancestors, a candle-filled kinara (candleholder), and gifts as “an extension of ourselves” (usually food-related from me!).
Throughout the holiday, I exercise the seven principles through a culinary lens: I embrace cooperative economics by gifting bottles from BIPOC wine and spirits makers, and choosing them for pairings at the karamu feast, which takes place on the evening of December 31. I harness creativity by developing new holiday recipes. I choose restorative African-originated superfoods like hibiscus and spirulina to incorporate Kwanzaa’s festive red and green colors. With more African products, including grains like fonio and teff, becoming increasingly available, it’s an exciting time for Kwanzaa menu-making.
Kwanzaa gatherings with extended family and friends allow for food-sharing and fellowship; old and young together, we reflect on the past and plan for the future collectively. Kwanzaa’s principles are meant to be applied year round, bringing more goodness not just to the holidays, but to the days and years ahead.
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