HOW MANY NEW YEAR DINNERS IS TOO MANY?

After living roughly half my life in Switzerland and half in Japan, I’ve learned one crucial thing about New Year celebrations:

Switzerland and Japan are celebrating the same holiday – just facing in completely opposite directions.

In Switzerland, New Year’s Eve is the main event, with a long meal (often meat fondue, which has become somewhat of a tradition), good wine, and fireworks. New Year’s Day exists mainly for recovery and regret.

In Japan, New Year’s Eve is a polite warm-up. New Year’s Day is the real deal, complete with rituals, symbolism, and enough food to sustain a medium-sized feudal clan.

Somehow, my in-laws’ household has decided we will simply do both. My digestive system and liver were not consulted.

The Relevance of TV

A proper Swiss New Year’s Eve involves staying up late, eating festive food and drinking (too much), and pretending to watch television while actually talking over it. The TV is on, but it doesn't have a leading role.

In Japan, the TV is not background noise. It is the evening. Kōhaku Uta Gassen is an annual musical marathon where smiling pop idols and legendary enka singers perform one after another. It goes on for hours. There are teams. There are emotions. There is no escape.

Meanwhile, somewhere deep in my Swiss soul, I’m thinking about the Vienna New Year’s Concert on the next day – polite waltzes, flowers, tasteful applause, and music that feels like it’s gently telling you to sit up straight.

Both countries need the TV on. They just have very different ideas about what should be on.

Here's how the New Year's festivities typically unfold in our family (at my in-law's place in Nagano, where everyone congregates).

New Year’s Eve Dinner: Switzerland Takes Control

December 31st dinner is non-negotiable: Swiss-style meat fondue.

Veal. Beef. Meatballs. Wine broth. Tiny forks that feel mildly unsafe. Self-made sauces to dip the cooked meat in.

We eat. We talk. We eat some more, until the fuel paste runs out. Midnight arrives quietly – because this is Japan – and nobody yells or kisses strangers. Bells ring. People reflect. I reflect on whether I’ve eaten too much. The answer is probably yes.

The drink of choice is wine: Spanish cava to start, then red Burgundy, in respectful acknowledgement of the European nature of the meal.

And then, of course, there is Kōhaku on TV. After all, we're in Japan.

January 1st Morning: Japan Takes Over

In Switzerland, January 1st is a delicate day. Coffee. Silence. Maybe a short walk to prove you’re still alive.

In Japan, January 1st arrives with osechi ryōri.

Beautiful boxes. Perfectly arranged food. Every item symbolising health, happiness, or long life. Nothing accidental.

It's edible art. And by late morning, I’m already wondering what’s for dinner.

Tiny cups of cold sake accompany the meal. You could call it the Japanese equivalent of a champagne breakfast – just with more symbolism.

January 1st Dinner: This is Where Things Get Really Serious

Dinner on January 1st is hot pot. But not just one hot pot.

Beef shabu-shabu. Pork shabu-shabu. Crab shabu-shabu. And sukiyaki, just for good measure. It turns out everyone has a favourite – and they are all different. After a brief family conference, we collectively agree the only logical solution is to have everything.

At first, everyone sits politely around the table, cooking together in calm harmony. It’s communal. It’s refined. It’s very Japanese. As the evening progresses, people start quietly orbiting the table, making sure they don’t miss out on the dishes they previously claimed they didn’t want.

This is preceded by fugu sashimi – thinly sliced raw pufferfish – because if you’re going to overindulge, you might as well do it properly.

Chosen drink? Cava with the sashimi, because it pairs beautifully. After that, all remaining European restraint is abandoned and it’s free-flow beer.

There's too much going on for anyone to pay any attention to the New Year's Concert running on TV.

January 2nd: Switzerland Strikes Back

Just when you think Japan has completely taken over New Year, January 2nd arrives.

Dinner is raclette.

Melted cheese. Potatoes. Pickles. The unmistakable smell of Switzerland reasserting itself.

At this point, our New Year celebration has stopped being a holiday and turned into an international food exchange program.

By January 3rd, nobody is talking about resolutions anymore. Although 'eat less,' 'drink less,' and 'take up jogging' would all be perfectly reasonable ideas.

We briefly consider them.

Then someone mentions leftovers.