December can get pretty busy. Between the colder weather, holiday preparations, and everything else that seems to pile up before the end of the year, it’s easy to get caught up in the rush. But there are certain traditions that bring me back to what I enjoy most about this time of year: making food at home and spending time with family.

One of those traditions is Dongzhi Festival, which falls around the Winter Solstice, usually on December 21 or 22. It marks the shortest day and longest night of the year. From there, the days gradually start getting longer again. Dongzhi has been celebrated in Chinese culture for generations. It’s traditionally a time for families to gather, enjoy a warm meal, and mark the changing of the seasons. And one food you’ll often find during this celebration is Tang Yuan, those little glutinous rice balls that can be filled with sweet sesame or peanut paste, or served plain in a sweet soup.

In our family, Tang Yuan is something I look forward to making every year. I grew up eating it, and now I get to make it for my own kids. There’s something about preparing a food you remember from childhood and sharing it with your family that makes it feel a little more special than an ordinary dessert.

I like keeping it simple. For me, it’s the familiar flavours, the time spent making everything, and having a bowl of something warm to enjoy together. Those are the things that make the tradition feel like ours.

Making Tang Yuan at Home

I learned to make homemade Tang Yuan from my mom, and now it’s something I get to pass along to my kids. I love that a recipe can travel through generations like that. The ingredients might be simple, but there are memories attached to them that you don’t get from following a recipe alone.

Making Tang Yuan does take a bit of time, especially when you’re preparing the filling and shaping each little rice ball. But I enjoy that part of it. There’s something satisfying about starting with a few basic ingredients and turning them into something the whole family can enjoy.

For the filling, I use a mixture of black and white sesame seeds. I always toast them first because it makes such a difference to the flavour. The sesame becomes fragrant and nutty, and the filling tastes much richer than it would if I skipped that step.

I also add butter to the sesame and sugar mixture. It helps bring everything together into a smoother filling, and once it firms up in the freezer, it’s much easier to shape into little balls before wrapping them in the rice dough.

The filling is probably my favourite part. Sesame has such a distinct flavour, and I love how it comes through in each bite. It’s sweet, nutty, and rich without needing a long list of ingredients.

When I think about the Tang Yuan I grew up eating, I also think about the sweet soup my family made to go with it. It was simple: brown sugar, ginger, and sweet potatoes.

There’s nothing fancy about that combination, but it works so well. The brown sugar gives the soup its sweetness, while the ginger adds a gentle warmth that keeps it from tasting too sweet. The sweet potatoes make it more filling and add another layer of flavour.

I didn’t have sweet potatoes on hand when I made this batch, so I left them out. I’ll probably add them next time because they’re part of what makes this version feel familiar to me.

That’s one thing I like about cooking family recipes. You can follow the same basic method each time, but there are also little changes depending on what’s in the kitchen or what you feel like making that day. The important part, at least for me, is keeping the flavours and memories that make the dish special.

And of course, there’s the sesame. Beyond its nutty flavour, sesame provides unsaturated fats, minerals, and other naturally occurring plant compounds. These aren’t necessarily the things I’m thinking about when I’m enjoying a bowl of Tang Yuan, but I do like knowing that familiar ingredients can offer nutritional value, too.

For me, making Tang Yuan is about more than getting the recipe right. It brings back the food I grew up with and gives me a chance to share some of that with my own family. Food has a way of holding memories, even when we don’t always realise it. Sometimes, it’s a particular flavour or the smell of ginger simmering on the stove that takes you right back, and that’s a big part of why I keep coming back to these traditional dishes. They’re a connection to where we came from, as well as something we can share with the people around us now.

Simply Salt & Soul

The Salt (The Science): Black and white sesame seeds bring plenty of flavour to Tang Yuan, but they also offer some nutritional benefits. Sesame seeds contain unsaturated fats and minerals, including calcium and magnesium. These minerals have roles in normal muscle and nerve function, among other things. Toasting the sesame seeds before grinding them helps bring out their natural nutty aroma and deeper flavour. It’s a simple step, but it makes a noticeable difference to the finished filling.

Ginger adds another layer to the sweet soup. Along with its distinctive flavour, ginger has a long history of use in traditional food cultures, including for digestive comfort. Glutinous rice can feel quite filling, so the ginger gives the soup a lovely warmth and balances the sweetness. That doesn’t mean it will prevent digestive discomfort for everyone, but it certainly has a place in this traditional combination.

The Soul (The Wellness): One of the things I appreciate about Dongzhi is the reminder to come together during a time of year when the days are short and the weather is cold. The festival is closely associated with family gatherings and Tang Yuan, whose round shape is often linked with reunion and togetherness. Even the process of making Tang Yuan can be a lovely way to spend time together. Preparing the filling, rolling the dough, and shaping the rice balls gives everyone something to do, and it creates space for conversation along the way.

December can be a hectic month, and I know how quickly the days can fill up with things that need to get done. That’s part of why I enjoy traditions like this. They give us a reason to return to familiar foods and spend time with the people we love. For me, that is what makes Tang Yuan special. It’s a recipe I learned from my mom, one I now make for my own family, and a little piece of our family history that we get to enjoy together each year.