Mooncakes

Hello :-) Thank you for watching my video on making mooncakes and visiting my blog post!

 

Recipe in the description box in the link above. As promised, here's some more information on the less common ingredients used in the video. 

Date Syrup:

Fig. 1: Date syrup

For many years we used to religiously use Lyle's Golden Syrup for the crust. For a dough recipe for which this ingredient makes up almost half by weight, it's a significant ingredient and worth being stubbornly adherent to. In fact, we used to make this pilgrimage every year to a special European grocery store just to get a can of this. Last year, however, we found, to our dismay, they stopped stocking this ingredient. Reluctantly, we acceded to switching. Without much expectation, we chose a bottle of date syrup. It was different. Runnier and darker, yet healthier-sounding. The packaging, with its brass-toned design hinted at tradition and royalty and seemed promising. This is clearly a well-loved ingredient in other cuisine, if not traditionally in mooncakes. 

We were pleasantly surprised. The runnier consistency, indicating a higher water content, actually made the dough more pliable, more lenient to stretching and moulding, and less prone to cracking after baking. My guess is that the higher water content allows more gluten formation. It's not that we don't want any gluten – otherwise the recipe would've called for using starch or rice flours. We're aiming for that elusive and specific level of gluten formation. Just enough to hold together in one smooth layer and allow for moulding. The darker colour also gave our mooncakes a darker hue. Compared to our previous mooncakes, the new mooncakes came out looking more tanned, mature, and official. Long story long, we're converted. Date syrup it shall be from now on. 

Lye Water:

Fig. 2: Lye water

This is one of those ingredients that sounds a little sketchy. Probably because it sounds like you're adding poison to a recipe. Technically you are. But at the tiny amount that the recipe calls for, it's not poisonous. You can still make mooncakes without it – for several years when we didn't include it. Without it, the crust was more difficult to work with and more prone to cracking in the oven. Not the end of the world. (Nothing in baking will end the world, really...) Supposedly, the potassium carbonate interferes with gluten formation, allowing the dough to be stretched, pounded, and imprinted from the moulding so you get crisp corners and edges that will keep their shape instead of springing back into a sphere. Baking soda is also basic but doesn't work the same way. It's much weaker of a base than lye and you'll need to add a lot more to approach the same effect. In that amount, you'll end up with a soapy-tasting dough. 

You'll likely find this in baking supply stores, a lot of Asian grocery stores will stock these on a bottom shelf somewhere. If you can't find it, wonton noodles restaurants (at least the ones that make their own noodles) will likely have it in stock because it's an ingredient in noodle making. It's not gonna be expensive. Just make sure you use food-grade lye in the liquid form (not sure how to dilute powder form properly for 1/2 a tsp) and use sparingly. 

Rose Cooking Wine:

Fig. 2: Rose cooking wine

This is another ingredient called for in scant amounts. Not imperative, but enhances the flavour. There's a bit more room for juggle though. You can use other cooking alcohols. Rice wine, sake, white wine, vodka...these would all work. Probably avoid using reds or anything that would discolour the yolk...unless that is the effect you are going for. If you're not a stickler to tradition, I would not be opposed to using a fruit-flavoured liquer. Grand marnier might add an interesting aroma to compliment the florally lotus seed flavour. You can be adventurous in baking too :-)  

Traditional Mooncake Moulds:

Fig. 4: New mooncake moulds

Fig. 3: Well-used mooncake moulds

Just a couple words on wooden mooncake moulds. They're heavy and a little clumsy to use. You have to oil them generously, press the wrapped mooncake into the divet with just the right amount of pressure, and unmould. Unmoulding is a surprisingly forceful process for something so delicate. You knock it against a chopping board lined with a towel from all 4 sides. Then flip onto the baking sheet and hope that the mooncake falls out in one piece with the crisp pattern imprinted. Many times, we've tried to scale back on the amount of oil we brushed on the mould, and regretted it as we grudgingly scraped dough remnants that stayed stubbornly stuck in a corner. However, it's another level of art and dedication to use these. With the passage of time, so many traditional practices are giving way to newer, more sophisticated, and easier ways to make cookie-cutter creations. Every time I take one of these ancient-rooted tools out I feel connected back to family traditions. You can see the difference in colour between the well-used ones (darker ones) and the new ones. Embedded in the wood is not only the oil from each batch of mooncake, but also memories of family time here and in Hong Kong as we worked industriously together in a cramped kitchen.  

Thank you for letting me share this :-) Wishing everybody happy bakes. Happy Mid-Autumn Festival! :-)