It’s that time of year again. Zongzi season.

Growing up, I always looked forward to the Duanwu Festival because I knew it meant my mom would be making zongzi. Every year, our kitchen would turn into a full-on zongzi-making station. There would be bamboo leaves everywhere, sticky rice soaking, fillings being prepared, and my mom wrapping one after another by hand. It was definitely a lot of work, but I never thought about that as a kid. I just knew there would be zongzi to eat.

I had my favourites, of course. The savoury ones filled with pork and that little surprise of salted duck egg yolk in the middle were probably at the top of my list. There’s something about that combination of sticky rice, savoury filling and salty egg yolk that just works. As I’ve gotten older, though, my taste has changed. These days, I’m much more likely to reach for the sweet zongzi, especially the ones with red bean paste and dates. They’re simple, slightly sweet and probably not what my younger self would have picked first.

What Is the Duanwu Festival?

The Duanwu Festival, also known as the Dragon Boat Festival, falls on the fifth day of the fifth month of the lunar calendar, usually sometime in June. It’s celebrated with dragon boat races, zongzi and other traditions that have been passed down for generations. One of the best-known stories behind the festival is that of Qu Yuan, a poet and statesman from the Warring States period in ancient China. According to the legend, Qu Yuan was deeply loyal to his country but became disillusioned with the corruption around him. He eventually drowned himself in the Miluo River. People who admired him took their boats out onto the river in an attempt to find him, and they threw rice into the water to keep the fish from getting to his body.

That story is often connected to the traditions we still see today. The boats became associated with the dragon boat races, and the rice thrown into the river became part of the story behind zongzi. There are different versions of the story and different regional traditions surrounding the festival, but Qu Yuan remains one of the figures most closely associated with Duanwu.

So, What Exactly Is Zongzi?

If you’ve never had one, zongzi are basically glutinous rice dumplings wrapped in bamboo leaves and then steamed or boiled. The fillings can be savoury or sweet, and they vary quite a bit depending on the region and the family making them. The savoury ones I grew up eating might have pork, mushrooms, peanuts or salted duck egg yolk inside. The sweet versions can have red bean paste, dates or other sweet fillings, and yes, the bamboo leaf really does make a difference. Once the zongzi are cooked, the rice picks up that subtle fragrance from the leaf, which is part of what makes them taste like zongzi. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve had one.

There are also different styles depending on where you’re from. Some are packed with fillings and seasoning, while others are much simpler, with mostly glutinous rice and perhaps some sugar or another topping. Cantonese-style zongzi, for example, can be quite substantial, with ingredients like pork, chestnuts, mushrooms, mung beans and salted egg yolk. That’s one of the things I love about traditional foods. There isn’t always one “right” version. Recipes change from region to region and family to family.

More Than Just a Rice Dumpling

For me, zongzi has always been connected to my mom and those memories of growing up. I think that’s part of why traditional foods stay with us. It’s not necessarily because the food itself is complicated or fancy. Sometimes it’s because you remember who made it, what the kitchen looked like, and what it felt like waiting for it to be ready.

I don’t make zongzi exactly the way my mom did, and my favourite fillings have changed over the years. But whenever Duanwu comes around and I see zongzi again, I’m immediately taken back to those days in our kitchen. That’s the part of food traditions I find really special. They keep changing as we do, but somehow they still give us a little connection to where we came from, and honestly, sometimes all it takes is one bite.