Eating collard greens, black-eyed peas, and pork on New Year’s Day brings luck and prosperity

Setting:
New Year’s Day, mid-afternoon. Two friends, Marcus and Ethan, are sitting in Marcus’s kitchen in North Carolina. A steaming plate of collard greens, black-eyed peas, and pork sits on the table. Marcus is digging in with gusto, while Ethan sips coffee and watches.

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Marcus: (grinning)
You sure you don’t want a bite, Ethan? This is the holy trinity of New Year’s luck right here. Greens for money, peas for good luck, pork for progress. I’m securing my whole year in one meal.

Ethan: (laughs)
I’ll pass. I’d rather secure my year with a savings account and a flu shot. But you go ahead—invest in pork if that’s your strategy.

Marcus:
Hey, I’m telling you, this works. Every year I eat this, and something good happens. Last year, I found a $20 bill in my coat pocket the very next day.

Ethan:
Yeah, and two weeks later you locked your keys in your car during a snowstorm. How did the peas and pork help then?

Marcus: (shrugs)
They brought me some luck. Just not constant luck. It’s more like… a spiritual jumpstart.

Ethan:
A “spiritual jumpstart” sounds like the name of a failed energy drink. Look, I get that traditions can feel comforting, but you know there’s zero scientific evidence that any of this food affects your future, right?

Marcus:
Science can’t measure everything, man. These traditions go way back—like Civil War-era. My grandma always said black-eyed peas fed our ancestors through hard times. It’s about honoring that, too.

Ethan:
Okay, that I respect. Cultural roots? Totally valid. But believing that peas can literally attract good luck? That’s pushing it. If that were true, we’d be seeing economists quoting legume forecasts.

Marcus:
Don’t tempt me. I’ll start a “Beanonomics” podcast. But seriously, it’s not just about luck. It’s a ritual. A little bit of faith to start the year right. Everyone needs something.

Ethan:
Sure, but isn’t it better to do something than just eat something? Like, make a budget, set goals, start exercising—

Marcus:
I am exercising. My fork-hand is doing reps right now.

Ethan: (laughing)
Fine. But don’t tell me if you win the lottery this year and then credit it to collard greens. That’s correlation, not causation.

Marcus:
Says the man who won’t walk under ladders “just in case.”

Ethan: (mock insulted)
Hey, that’s practical. Have you ever seen what happens when someone drops a paint can from a ladder?

Marcus:
So your superstition is called “safety” and mine is “nonsense”? Got it.

Ethan:
Touché. But still—don’t you think it gives a false sense of control? Like, what if someone really believes eating pork will fix their life, and they stop putting in real effort?

Marcus:
Fair point. But I don’t expect pork to fix my life. It’s just a feel-good start. Like setting your GPS before a road trip. Doesn’t drive for you, but it helps you feel ready.

Ethan: (nodding slowly)
Okay, that’s a decent metaphor. Still won’t eat the peas, though. They taste like sad marbles.

Marcus:
You’re missing out. But I’ll save you some greens just in case you change your mind before midnight. You’ve got, like, eight hours left to rescue your year.

Ethan: (grinning)
Or I could eat nothing special and just work hard. Radical concept, I know.

Marcus:
Boring concept. But I guess we both have our methods. You take science, I’ll take soul food. Deal?

Ethan:
Deal. But if I get a promotion and you get food poisoning, I am calling it karma.

Marcus: (chuckling while chewing)
Fine, but if I win a scratch-off tomorrow, you’re eating double peas next year.

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[They laugh, clink coffee mugs, and settle into the afternoon. Different worldviews, same warm friendship.]