MOONCAKES IN MANILA

A friend brought back some mooncakes from Manila recently. They are from a bakery that I went into, once, and only vaguely remember: Salazar Bakery, 783 Ongpin Street, Binondo, Manila, 1006 Metro Manila, Philippines. Apparently they're bigger and better than ever before, as they now have shiny modern branches all over town.

They are famous for their hopia, tikoy.
Plus biscuits, and mooncakes.


達華餅店的月餅

The Chinese handle of the bakery (達華 'lin waa') means "attaining splendour". Like many Chinese business names it expresses a hope, an aspiration, and an eloquent combination of propitious terms.
And, given their quality and success, it is apposite.

A long time ago I was in Manila. I particularly remember the torrential rain, and paddling into the kitchen late at night for another glass of tea and a bit of mooncake. Three different places and times, three different families.

All of them were Chinese. One family spoke Mandarin, Hokkien (which may have been the 泉州 dialect of 閩南話), Cantonese (three members only), Tagalog, and English. One commonly used Cantonese, Tagalog and Cebuano, English, and German. And one spoke English primarily, plus various dialects of Chinese, and Tagalog.

[Different languages can be very important to people's self-definitions, and in the Manila context that means the more tongues the merrier. One aged gentleman explained himself (in English) as a Tagalog-speaking Fujianese Chinese from Ilocos, with great facility in Italian (!), and a fair ability in Spanish.
But what I best remember is his fluency in Latin.
He had, at one time, been a priest.]

At that time of year (中秋節 'jong chau jit') they all had mooncakes (月餅 'yuet bing'), and there was a thermos of tea in the kitchen at all times.
Darkness, silence, hot tea, mooncake.
That which is lovely.


For a few years in North Beach I used a humongous tea thermos, and because the nearest bakery was a block away, mooncakes during September and October were a constant.
Which they still are.

[Mooncakes are big and thick, approximately four inches across and two deep. A thin baked crust surrounds a rich filling, usually lotus seed paste (蓮蓉 'lin yong') or red bean paste (豆沙 'dau saa', with a salted egg yolk (蛋黃 'daan wong') embedded within recalling the harvest moon. The egg yolk adds to the density of taste most marvelously. You can also get them with two egg yolks, and various other fillings are also common. I prefer the double egg lotus seed: 雙黃白蓮蓉月餅 ('seung wong baak lin yong yuet bing').]


The climate in Manila is very much like the unseasonable warmth in San Francisco, between eight and ninety degrees, such as we are having now. The humidity is much worse, though. Like wading through warm jello.
You can indeed get used to it, but you are often bedewed.
Your laundry needs to be done every day.
Frowst is a fact of life.


Chinese families patiently put up with their stinky white guests, and probably burn the sheets that he used after he has finally gone.


The mooncakes are excellent.
Thank you.




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