Advertisement
Advertisement
Food and Drinks
Get more with myNEWS
A personalised news feed of stories that matter to you
Learn more
Li Chi-wai believes his deep-fried milk can help bring Chinese desserts to the fore. Photo: Jonathan Wong

From salted-egg tarts to Horlicks ice cream and honey joys, Chinese desserts get a chance to shine

  • Deep-fried milk is served at The Legacy House at the Rosewood in Hong Kong, while childhood memories were the inspiration for a dessert at Ho Lee Fook
  • A traditional hot milk pudding is reinvented as a more Western cold pudding at Duddell’s, and the egg tart is given a makeover at French-Cantonese bistro Roots

Sweet and sour pork, char siu, Peking duck, spring rolls, xiao long bao, wonton, ma po tofu, crispy skin chicken, hot and sour soup, fried rice – and so much more. The list of internationally beloved Chinese dishes, questions of authenticity notwithstanding, is long.

Ask people about Chinese desserts, though, and they are likely to draw a blank. As popular as Chinese cuisines are, it’s the savoury dishes that are the stars – sweets languish in the shadows, without an identity of their own.

“Cantonese cuisine incorporates items such as egg tarts and tofu puddings into dim sum, but they are not known as desserts as such,” says Li Chi-wai, the Chinese executive chef at the Rosewood Hong Kong hotel. “These items tend to be enjoyed throughout the meal, unlike Western cuisine, where you will have dessert at the end; there isn’t such a culture [in Chinese cuisine].”

Change is under way, though, with sweet endings becoming a highlight of meals.

Li Chi-wai prepares deep-fried milk at The Legacy House. Photo: Jonathan Wong
At The Legacy House, Rosewood’s flagship Cantonese restaurant, this comes in the form of deep-fried milk, which is adapted from a traditional snack in Shunde, Guangdong province. As the name suggests, milk is the key ingredient.

“We use milk from Hokkaido [in Japan] because it’s denser and smoother compared to local milk,” Li explains. “It’s also sweeter, which means we have to add less sugar.”

Why dessert soups remain so popular in Hong Kong

To make it, a milk mixture is boiled until it thickens, then it is refrigerated and cut into small blocks. Li adds a twist by wrapping the blocks in a thin slice of toast before deep-frying them.

The result is seriously addictive golden batons with a crisp exterior and warm, custardy interior. Light yet satisfying, it’s a dish distinctive enough to mark the end of a lunch or dinner, and it doesn’t leave you weighed down by a full-blown dessert.

Milk plays a surprise starring role in many of the best Chinese desserts served in Hong Kong. Dairy products – so essential to cakes, pastries and desserts in the West – are largely absent from Chinese cuisine, in part because up to 80 per cent of adult Asians (possibly more) are, to some degree, lactose intolerant (meaning they have a digestive disorder caused by the inability to digest lactose, the main carbohydrate in dairy products).
Li adds a twist by wrapping the blocks in a thin slice of toast before deep frying them. Photo: Jonathan Wong
Commercially available fresh milk only appeared in Hong Kong in the late 1800s following its colonisation by the British, when Scottish surgeon Sir Patrick Manson and five prominent businessmen set up the Dairy Farm Company in 1886.

Manson was supposedly so appalled by the dire quality of the local milk that, with 80 head of cattle imported from Scotland, he began to supply reliable and affordable milk from the company’s farm in Pok Fu Lam on Hong Kong Island to the city.

While fresh milk was lapped up by the British, it was not regularly consumed by many Hongkongers, although evaporated and condensed milk became popular.
Gold ginger milk pudding at Duddell’s, a Chinese restaurant in Hong Kong’s Central district. Photo: Jonathan Wong
For lactose intolerant Li Man-lung, executive chef at fine-dining Cantonese restaurant Duddell’s, it was only when he became chef that he “started experimenting with milk, enjoying small amounts, and trying new recipes”.

In the process, he discovered steamed (or double-skin) milk, a classic Shunde dish that inspired his delicious milk pudding with sweet ginger syrup. Li makes it using ginger-infused Hokkaido milk, which is steamed, then cooled and topped with a slick of golden syrup.

“It is creative to present the traditional hot milk pudding as a more Western cold pudding,” says Li. Although it’s comparable to panna cotta, it’s lighter, zingier and more refreshing than the cream-based Italian dessert.

Breakfast 2.0 at Ho Lee Fook. Photo: Jonathan Wong
Jowett Yu, head chef at Chinese restaurant Ho Lee Fook, was also late to the milk game. “When I was kid growing up in Taiwan, my mum would make me a Horlicks drink before going to school, because milk was expensive,” says Yu. “I never had fresh milk until I moved to Canada, so I grew up with powdered-milk drinks like Horlicks.”

The memory of his morning ritual is what Yu brings to life in the restaurant’s bestselling Breakfast 2.0 dessert. “Sometimes, the best part of breakfast is that sugary hit,” he says.

Enter house-made Horlicks ice cream, accompanied by honey joys – another childhood favourite made up of cornflakes, melted butter and brown sugar. Contrasting elements, including coffee crumbs, oatmeal porridge and raspberries, offset the sweetness.

“People like it because it’s fun and nostalgic, with lots going on,” says Yu. Hot, cold, crunchy, creamy, bitter, sweet, salty and tart, it’s a textural playground and a joy to eat, day or night.

A salted egg yolk tart at Roots. Photo: Dickson Lee
Like Yu, Stephanie Wong did not drink fresh milk until her family moved to Canada. It wasn’t until she returned to Hong Kong that the chef-founder of French-Cantonese bistro Roots encountered her first Chinese milk desserts. Wong admits she isn’t a fan of them, or local sweets in general, except for egg tarts. “I like egg tarts because it’s comfort food. You eat it hot, and it’s just like a warm hug.”

Wong has created her own version for Roots. She initially wanted to create a traditional egg tart, but a friend suggested the use of salted egg yolk as a point of difference. “It sounded crazy, but worked out really well,” Wong says.

Buttery and crumbly with a slightly gooey filling, the tart is a touch earthy, with only a hint of sweetness. “My perception of dessert is impacted by Chinese cuisine,” Wong says. “I see it as a continuation of savoury things, unlike in Western cuisine, where it can be a completely separate part of the meal.”

White Rabbit candy custard at Yung’s Bistro. Photo: Edmond So
When Yvonne Kam was a child, her mother made her drink a bottle of milk every morning and evening. Fortunately for Kam (a third-generation member of the family that founded the venerable roast goose restaurant Yung Kee, and the more contemporary Yung’s Bistro), she is not lactose intolerant.

Kam grew up on Leighton Road in Hong Kong’s Causeway Bay district, next to popular cha chaan teng Yee Shun, and would regularly indulge in its signature steamed milk – a childhood favourite. “We’d always go in after lunch, or for a late afternoon snack,” she says of the place, which has since moved to Lockhart Road, Wan Chai, and has branches in Jordan and Yau Ma Tei in Kowloon.

As to why Chinese desserts haven’t caught on more widely, Kam thinks their plain presentation and a lack of complexity is partly to blame. Red bean soup, for example, “tastes good, but doesn’t look good” when compared to Western desserts, she says. The family wanted to change that at Yung’s Bistro, by creating desserts that remind people of their childhood. The result is the whimsical White Rabbit candy custard.
A chef makes White Rabbit candy custard. Photo: Edmond So

Surrounding the rabbit-shaped centrepiece when served is a caramelised chocolate crumble, which “adds an extra dimension and brings out the flavour”, says Kam. The wobbly, blancmange-like pudding, served with an actual White Rabbit sweet, is a social media hit.

Aside from milk, all five desserts tap into our craving for familiarity, comfort and nostalgia. But can they change our perception of Chinese desserts?

Rosewood chef Li thinks his deep-fried milk can, proclaiming: “It’s suitable for all ages, and who doesn’t like something sweet, deep-fried and crispy?” We couldn’t agree more.

The Legacy House, 5/F, Rosewood Hong Kong, 18 Salisbury Road, Tsim Sha Tsui, tel: 3891 8732

Duddell’s, 3/F Shanghai Tang Mansion, 1 Duddell Street, Central, tel: 2525 9191

Ho Lee Fook, 3-5 Elgin Street, Central, tel: 2810 0860

Roots, 7 Sun Street, Wan Chai, tel: 2623 9983

Yung’s Bistro, Shop 701, K11 Musea, Victoria Dockside, 18 Salisbury Road, Tsim Sha Tsui, tel: 2321 3800

Post