👋 Hi, I’m Jeff. I write weekly about lessons I’ve learned leading product teams and working to lead well in chaotic environments, drawing on 25+ years of experience. If you’re a leader, operator, or founder, I hope you’ll subscribe.
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In 2013, my family spent New Year’s Eve on a small apartment rooftop just above the Spanish Steps in Rome. The trip was unforgettable. But what we brought home was even better — a New Year’s tradition that stuck: eat lentils at midnight for good fortune in the year ahead.
We’ve done it every year since. Here’s the quick story if you want to borrow a little Roman luck next year.
After a few days in Florence, we arrived in Rome by train a few days before December 31. We rented an apartment from a sweet older couple, Krista and Elio, who also lived nearby. They welcomed us warmly and immediately invited us to their rooftop New Year’s Eve celebration with 25 or so friends and family.
We arrived about an hour before midnight. When the clock struck twelve, the city erupted with fireworks from all corners of Rome. Down on the streets below, you could hear more fireworks popping nearby — and see paper lanterns floating up into the sky, too.
After we took it all in, Krista walked over to our two boys — then 8 and 12 years old.
The conversation went something like this:
Krista: “Would you two boys like a Coca-Cola to toast New Year’s?”
Boys (smiling, glancing at us, knowing it’s way past bedtime): “Uh… we’ll just have water.”
Krista (without missing a beat): “Oh come on — it’s New Year’s Eve. Come with me and we’ll get some Coca-Cola.”
Gentle enforcement of “when in Rome.”
She returned with two Cokes… and then turned to Charlene and me with an even more important directive: we all needed to eat a bowl of lentils immediately.
To be clear, this wasn’t phrased as a question. Krista explained it was tradition: lentils at midnight for good fortune. The soup was still bubbling on the stove, but Krista didn’t wait — she ladled out four bowls so our family could properly welcome the new year.
Later we learned the tradition is often traced back to ancient Rome, when Romans would gift loved ones pouches of dried lentils — lenticchie — for the new year. The symbolism is literal: lentils look like tiny coins, so eating them at the turn of the year is a wish for prosperity to multiply in the months ahead.
Krista was insisting on that exact idea: don’t just toast good fortune — eat it.
And honestly? It worked for us. Or maybe it just gave us a reason to notice the good. That night we ate a small bowl of delicious lentils and chatted with Krista’s gracious guests.
Then, in a number of ways, 2014 turned out to be an incredible year for our family. At each fortuitous turn, we remembered the lentils — and Krista’s sweet insistence that we not miss our chance at good fortune.
Later in 2014, we emailed Krista and asked for the recipe so we could do it again. We’ve made these simple lentils every New Year’s Eve since then. For us, they’re a portable memory from that rooftop in Rome — and a small ritual that keeps us grateful — and a little hopeful — as the year turns.
Here’s to tiny coins in a bowl — and good fortune in 2026. What’s the one ritual your family never skips?
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