In Madrid, midnight doesn’t happen all at once; instead, it develops bell by bell and second by second. Thousands of people raise cups filled with grapes rather of champagne as the Puerta del Sol clock starts to deliberately toll. Every chime gets one grape. One for each future month. The strangely exact custom of “twelve bites, twelve hopes” has been incredibly successful in bringing people together around the notion that a new year may begin with purpose and a little sweetness.
Formally called las doce uvas de la suerte, this custom has become so ingrained in Spanish culture that it is hard to envision New Year’s Eve without it. Its roots can be found in the 1880s, when Madrid’s affluent elite embraced the French tradition of serving champagne with grapes at festive dinners. The working-class people, however, were the ones who turned the rite into a communal celebration by cleverly protesting by imitating it in public. Grape farmers were able to spread the technique by 1909 because to a bumper crop in Alicante, which transformed extra grapes into symbolic wealth.
Due to migration, media, and memory, the practice has spread outside of Spain within the past century. It gained traction in Latin America, in Filipino communities, and more and more in American cities where Spanish-speaking families carry on the custom for generations. The grape ceremony is still quite effective at its core: it doesn’t require any extra equipment, a fancy dinner, or any language other than a countdown. Hope, timing, and grapes.
| Item | Detail |
|---|---|
| Tradition Name | Las doce uvas de la suerte (The Twelve Grapes of Luck) |
| Origin Country | Spain |
| First Recorded Use | Late 1800s (Madrid); Popularized in 1909 by Alicante grape growers |
| Purpose | Eating 12 grapes at midnight for good luck in each month of the new year |
| Method | One grape per clock bell chime as the clock strikes twelve |
| Cultural Spread | Widespread in Spain, Latin America, the Philippines, and U.S. Hispanic communities |
| Modern Twist | Eating grapes under the table (linked to romantic luck, popular on TikTok) |
| Notable Location | Puerta del Sol clock tower, Madrid |
| External Source | Wikipedia – Twelve Grapes tradition |
At midnight, participants consume one grape for every one of the twelve bell chimes. It is a bodily challenge, not just a metaphorical one. You will fall behind if you swallow too slowly. If you eat too hastily, you can overlook the significance. Interestingly, this pace reflects the way many people wish to live in the upcoming year: purposeful but not rushed; present but not frantic.
A particularly creative form, “eating the grapes under the table,” has emerged on TikTok in recent years. Young people huddle under kitchen counters or dining tables, juggling ritual and entertainment. Some are dressed in sequined party attire, while others are in pajamas. Although the underhanded twist has less historical roots and is more hashtag-driven, it is thought to increase romantic luck. Still, it gives a very classic act a very charming update.
One afternoon on December 31, I witnessed a Catalan grandma manually peel and seed grapes. She had no interest in taking quick cuts. In a strong yet compassionate tone, she informed me, “The luck only works if the grapes go down smoothly.” Something grounded was there, a reminder that even fast-paced rituals benefit from planning.
This approach is appealing on a psychological as well as cultural level. Grapes are approachable, palpable symbols. Their roundness alludes to cycles, and their sweetness to rebirth. This silent gesture encourages reflection, unlike pyrotechnics or fanfare. It allows individuals to commemorate time without the need for fanfare. And this one is still remarkably intimate in a digital age where performative traditions are pervasive.
Twelve grapes are now sold in supermarkets in Spain in neatly packaged bundles, perfect for midnight consumption. There are small instructions in some boxes. Others offer grapes that have had their skins removed for young people or the elderly. International merchants sell grape kits called “Spanish NYE” in cities like Berlin and London. Although the packaging is new, the procedure has remained nearly unchanged.
Setting is important as well. Millions of people follow the countdown from home as it is televised nationwide in Puerta del Sol. The grapes still fall in smaller towns even though the clock towers may be older, slower, or one second off. What counts is the cadence, the presence, and the subdued assurance that the upcoming year would be more favorable.
It’s important to note how this custom contrasts with the mayhem that frequently accompanies New Year’s Eve. Confetti storms and champagne towers are unnecessary. There’s no pressure to complete resolutions. Eating grapes is a little but significant ritual that places the individual at the center of a group activity. Because the pattern itself is comforting, even people who don’t believe in luck at all participate.
Over time, this custom has proven extraordinarily robust, changing subtly rather than violently. It hasn’t been overly commercialized, and its simplicity preserves it. In many respects, that is its actual strength. When a physical act is combined with introspection, it becomes a ritual that people want to repeat because it feels right rather than because they have to.
The upcoming year starts to take shape as each bell sounds and each grape vanishes. Small, thoughtful decisions rather than big announcements. A total of twelve seconds. A dozen intentions. One by one, twelve seeds of change were ingested.
And that could be its subtle genius. In addition to being simple to observe, this custom is surprisingly resilient in its capacity to infuse the change from one year to the next with clarity, humor, and a hint of sweetness.
