A twelve-year cycle is complete. At least for me. I have the habit of writing about Chinese New Year traditions since I started this column more than a dozen years ago. I find the connections and similarities of the Chinese and old Turkic 12-animal zodiac fascinating, by covering the subject over the years, I discovered that there are quite a number of similarities in the food traditions too, though the Chinese and Turkish cuisines seem to be planets apart. This year I feel like going back to my first horse year, revisiting all the signs past forward along the way past forward. But as this year is the Fire Horse, I have to get rid of the past, and move fast-forward, and I mean really, really fast.
Embracing the speed: The year of the fire horse
First, the Snake Year is over. Snake sheds its skin to renew itself, so it is time to get rid of old things to be born anew. The transition from the Year of the Wood Snake to the Fiery Horse marks a shift toward a period defined by speed, movement and significant changes in life. This is also true for me, especially the significant life changes. I’m in the process of letting go of my past, a divorce after a long going court battle, changing home, changing cities, getting old projects finished, starting exciting new projects — every one of those is on my current agenda. As the speediest sign in the 12-animal cycle, the horse represents freedom and a self-determined future. The horse is also a graceful animal. So, when racing to a new future, this must be made with grace and style, and it is also important to take care to avoid potential pitfalls. Of course, another strong characteristic of the horse is endurance and perseverance. In the ancient Turkic tradition, the horse year is known as Yılkı, or Yunt, named after the resilient wild horses, that survive harsh winters, symbolizing endurance and stamina.
Sino-Turkic cultural threads
The connection between Chinese and Turkish cultures is deeply rooted in a shared 12-animal zodiac calendar based on 12 solar years. While these calendars are now celebrated globally as Chinese, many scholars, including Turcologist László Rásonyi, suggest they may have originated in Central Asian Turkic communities before being refined by the Chinese and later re-borrowed by Turkic peoples.
This cultural interplay extends into language and art. For instance, the Turkish word for snake, yılan, is thought to have etymological roots in Chinese. Similarly, the famous Ottoman Çintemani (Chintamani) pattern translates to “in Chinese style” which is a pattern we instantly recognize as Ottoman. Featuring wavy clouds and three dots arranged in a triangular manner, the pattern adorns famous Iznik tiles and Ottoman textiles, seen in Topkapı Palace and Istanbul mosques. The motif is believed to grant its possessor the power to fulfill all desires. It is also associated with Uyghur people of West China, where it represents a flaming gemstone known as “körkle muncuk.” The motif is also linked with leopard and tiger hides hunted by warriors and wearing the skin was a representation of power and bravery.
Sino-Turkic culinary links
Perhaps the most delicious parallel in Sino-Turkic encounters is found in the world of dumplings: the Turkish mantı and Chinese mantou share a striking linguistic and culinary history. Turkish mantı is different technically from mantou, which in Northern China refers to steamed buns, but similarities are there especially in folding techniques of Uyghur dumplings. Historical records prove the connection. This shared culinary history is documented as far back as 1330 in a treatise by Hu Szu-hui, a Uyghur imperial doctor for the Chinese Emperor, which included recipes for meat-stuffed noodles like tutum ash, a predecessor to tutmaç, which still survives in Anatolian cuisine as a form of dumpling and yogurt dish. This alone is a living example of the long bridge between Central Asian and Chinese food cultures.
Lately, I discovered another odd link similar to tutmaç. Small rice balls, mostly in a sweet syrup, but sometimes served also savory, is a typical Chinese New Year dish. We normally do not have rice balls, but the ones that feature bulgur are very common in soups or dishes. But in Gaziantep, a typical celebration dish “yuvalama,” features tiny rice balls that float in a yogurt-based soup-like dish. The taste is world apart, but the logic and technique of rice balls are similar.
Chinese beliefs are sometimes mirrored in other traditions in Euro-Asian landscape. While the Chinese serve whole fish in the Chinese New Year table to represent unity and integrity, a similar preference exists in Turkish culture, fish is almost always grilled or fried whole and brought to the table from head to tail. The Jewish New Year table at Rosh Hashanah mirrors that belief, there is always fish on the table, and it has to be served whole to represent unity, and as in the Chinese tradition, the head is always served to the head of the family, to acknowledge his leadership in the family.
The historical Silk Road served as a vital conduit for culinary and cultural exchange, linking food traditions from the Sea of Japan all the way to Anatolia. These exchanges were particularly facilitated during the period of "Pax Mongolica," a time of borderless Mongolian rule that was highly conducive to trade, travel and the intermingling of Central Asian Turkic tribes with Chinese culture.
Well, it was the horse that made this cultural transport possible. The Mongolian steppes are definitely the ultimate land of horses. Maybe it is now the time to rethink the potential of the fast-forward horse, especially one that is as fiercely fiery as the Fire Horse!
