My Flaky Mid-Autumn Festival Treat and a Birthday!

人有悲歡離合，  People experience grief and joy, separations and togetherness,
月有陰晴圓缺，  the Moon waxes and wanes, and sometimes appears clear or cloudy
此事古難全。      it has never been an ideal picture all along.
但願人長久，      I hope that we are long-lived
千里共嬋娟。    so that we can share the beauty of the moon despite being miles apart.

Gazing at the moon often reminds me of the sentiments embedded in these graceful lyrics.

Some of you may have long been familiar with the above excerpt written by Su Shi (蘇軾, 1037-1101), who was a great poet from the Song-Dynasty China (宋代中國). Su’s beautiful words had me fallen in love with lyric Chinese poetry (詞) during my high-school years. And, I’ve always associated these lyrics of his with romance and Mid-Autumn Festival.

Turning Back the Clock

Mid-Autumn Festival (中秋節) falls on the 15th day of the eighth month (八月十五) in the Chinese calendar (農曆). It is when the moon greets the world in its fullest, roundest and brightest. We celebrated last year’s on Oct 03. And this year, we mark the end of the summer harvesting season on Sept 22, which would be today. For many Chinese around the world, this day is about reuniting with loved ones, enjoying good foods, and soaking up the festivities.

Our clan, including extended family members, used to have an alfresco gathering on this special evening. We’d spend a few hours catching up with each other, sampling mooncakes (月餅), sipping on Chinese tea, as well as snacking on toasted melon seeds (瓜子) and peanuts, water caltrops (菱角) and pomelos (“綠柚” in spoken Cantonese; “柚子” in Mandarin). Sometimes, for the fun of it, we’d place pomelo rinds over children’s heads. The elderly in my family believe that such an act brings good luck.

Pomelos: our stock for this year's ...

On that evening, the youngsters, including me and my cousins, would take up the honor of lighting up the neighborhood with colorful lanterns (燈籠). Of course, all the outdoor merriment could only be realized on a warm and dry evening, under a clear and starry sky. We felt even luckier in the presence of a full moon. However, as years go by, with our family ageing, and with everyone pursuing different directions in life and getting busier, I can only relive those good old times in my head.

Another Happy Coincidence

This year, coincidentally, my American sister’s birthday falls on this festive season. Miss Keren Ruth, happy birthday! Thank you so, so much for inspiring me through and through, especially during my 32 months in Minnesota! I miss your company!

Now, no mooncake, no birthday treat from me. (Sorry, Keren!) I bake by moods and only as needed. Getting bogged down by work and my family’s ongoing relocation “project,” I’ve found neither the mood nor the need to fix mooncakes. So, the timing seems nice for me to clear some of my backlogs accumulated from mid-2009. Yay!

Reminiscing Flakiness

I first attempted making Chinese flaky pastries in July 2008. It was a little tricky initially. But once you’ve gotten a hang of it, getting the laminated dough right shouldn’t be an issue – even in the hot and humid weather of Malaysia!

Ugly-looking Taiwanese sun pastry (太陽餅): my maiden attempt at making Chinese flaky pastries back in July 2008

I liken laminating the doughs for Chinese flaky pastries to laminating the doughs for French pâte feuilletée and croissants, and Danish. There are a few differences, however, and one being when handling the doughs for Chinese flaky pastries, you’re much less likely to end up with a pile of uber greasy, sticky and doughy mess! (Pei-Lin still has no luck with laminating doughs the French way. It’s all the butter’s fault!)

Much better looking: second attempt at Taiwanese sun pastry (dated February 2009)

The Lard in the Larder Long Gone

Traditionally, the fat used for Chinese flaky pastries is lard. When I was in the States, I had the opportunity to experiment with and use lard for that very purpose, and sometimes, for my pâte brisée as well. When used appropriately and adequately, pastries made with lard kill all other pastries made with shortening and/or margarine. To be more specific, I’m referring to pie crusts and Chinese flaky pastries made primarily with shortening! I’ve seen and tasted shortening-laden ones. Yuck!

My home-made Tambun biscuits (淡汶餅), another Chinese flaky pastry of Malaysian-Chinese origin. Want to know why my mung bean-paste filling is dark? Read on here.

When I was in the States, it’s easy to purchase 2 kilograms (64 ounces) of – or more, lard off the supermarket shelf. Just like shortening, there, lard is sold in sticks and buckets, depending on how much you need to buy. As much as I hate to say, I did scrutinize the label on the bucket: The lard is partially hydrogenated. Lesson to remember: Moderation is still the key to everything in life.

This is what I used. (Image courtesy of TEXMEX FOODS)

Well before returning home for good, I already knew that the lard available back in Malaysia just isn’t the same as what I could get in the States. Is it because the lard here isn’t hydrogenated at all? So, it’s less fun to work with? *Shrug* I’m in the midst of settling down on a solution to the problem … Oh, well!

A Not-So-Happy Experience

Back in August 2009, just a week before I returned home from the States, I made Chinese flaky pastries to use up my home-made azuki bean paste at my family friends’. These chrysanthemum pastries (菊花酥), I think, would make a festive treat this Mid-Autumn Festival. Come to think of it, I’ve not made any Chinese flaky pastries since a year ago!

Reflecting upon this particular “project,” I still perceive the result as an unsatisfactory one. I was angry at myself for the fact that in search of perfection, during the shaping process, I cut the bean paste-filled laminated dough a little too deep, that the baked pastries wound up almost too fragile to be handled! I was struggling to twist the dough without having it falling apart, too. And since I didn’t want to buy red maraschino cherries just for decoration, I opted to use red food gel instead. I was overly generous with the food gel, too! And so, my ugly pastries …

You may also be wondering, “The azuki bean-paste filling looks grainy!” Yup. Thanks to the lazy bone in me! After pressing 600 grams of azuki beans through a sieve, I told myself, “Skip that part in the future!” Very tedious! I spent like 2 hours over it!? So, when I made another batch of bean paste, I processed the beans in a blender instead. And, I consoled myself through hypnosis: “You’re making the more rustic Japanese tsubu-an … not smooth Chinese azuki bean paste …”

On top of that, my home-made azuki bean paste normally has WAY less sugar and fat. I used lard for my bean paste, too, which gave the end product a unique flavor. With that said, mine wasn’t as smooth, soft, greasy and pliable as store-bought one. I suppose if you’d used the latter instead, it’d have been much easier to shape the filled dough for chrysanthemum shape. Oh! My chrysanthemum pastries look paler as no egg wash was applied. *Sigh*

In the end, it was the lessons I gathered out of that particular episode that matter. Once I feel settled down, I’ll recreate chrysanthemum pastries. Who knows, I may tinker with the idea of using store-bought azuki bean paste instead … (Pei-Lin, this is so not you!)

Better Late Than Never

I’ll leave you with the dough recipe for Chinese flaky pastries, as well as the recipe for azuki bean paste. (Click on the hyperlinks to view the recipes.) Do try them out if you’re interested. Last but not least, before I sign off, here’s to wish once again

A happy, happy birthday to dearest Keren Ruth!

… And …

中秋在此日，團聚在此時。中秋節快樂！
Today is Mid-Autumn Festival. It’s time to reunite with your loved ones. Happy Mid-Autumn Festival!

I certainly hope it’s not too late to say these!

The full moon on the Mid-Autumn Festival of 2007: my first time living miles apart from home