taiwanese pineapple cake, a tasting
is it excessive? absolutely. do i regret any of it? definitely not.
To me, pineapple cake (n, a taiwanese pastry filled with a sweet pineapple paste enveloped in a short pastry) is a visual symbol of the days, weeks after a trip to Taiwan. It tastes like late summer, memories savored, holding on to the little left of the faraway place filled with delicious foods out of reach. For as long as I can remember, boxes of pineapple cake would be a travel companion, tucked safely into check in suitcases as a delicious souvenir bridging two homes.
Over the years, it’s become hard to tell whether I actually like pineapple cake, or if I crave the nostalgia. These days, it’s not difficult to procure pineapple cake, in 99 Ranch grocery store aisles, as specialties in bakeries, or imported directly from the source and delivered to your home via Weee. But I never ever feel compelled to buy it state side, even when the same brands are available. There’s something sacred about the journey. About the in-person purchase, the rituals of running around Taipei in the final days of a trip, making each stop to collect the boxes.
This year, I went overboard by a long shot. Traveling by myself all the way back to New York City (with a layover in Tokyo too), I brought with me dozens of pineapple cakes. Several pounds of precious cargo crossing the Pacific, and then the North American continent to Brooklyn, just so I could do this. Very extra. Tasting experience.
Perhaps a sane person would have bought a couple boxes from their favorite bakery and and brought it home to share with friends. But I’ve never been one to stop when I have a vision. And my vision required visiting three bakeries that I know and love, representing traditional, classic and contemporary takes on the delicacy. Pairing it with high mountain oolong tea brewed the traditional way, using a Taiwanese ceramic tea set (a splurge that I hand carried halfway around the world). In my defense, the tea really brings out the flavor of the pastries in a beautiful way that just doesn’t happen without it. I have no defense for the other tea snacks though, I just couldn’t help myself to bring along some dried fruit and peanut candy.
I hauled the bulk of it over to the office, setting up a tasting in the test kitchen. I assembled little gift packages with one of each pineapple cake and a packet of tea for a do it yourself tasting. And I hosted an aesthetic version of the tasting at home, with all the props. A ceremony, an experience. I should monetize this.
but first, tea
High mountain oolong tea, brewed strong, through the motions I have seen all my life on coffee tables a world away. Breaking out my new tea set, and even if it is placebo, the tea does taste better in its full form.
pineapple cake, three ways
My heart will always be with the traditional one, even though placed side by side it looks, well, rustic and inconsistent. But it makes for a solid line up regardless. In consecutive bites (with palate cleansing sips of tea in between) you really get to taste the subtle differences in flavor and texture of the filling and pastry.
I made a whole graphic and did a whole spiel on the three pastries.
LEE HU | CHIA TE | SUNNY HILLS
Surprisingly, the classic and traditional iterations won out contemporary (and most expensive) by a landslide. Sunny Hills may have a decade and a half of hype, but even those who don’t have the nostalgia factor seem to enjoy the more old school taste and textures.
If only tea time could be so decadent every day. But perhaps it feels extra special because I know it won’t last. There’s a finite number of pineapple cakes, a finite number of simple indulgences that feel connected to the motherland. And then it’ll be many months before I can make the trek once more, and be tempted to go all out once again.
see also
A GUIDE TO POST-TAIWAN SNACK HAULS (OR A SHOPPING LIST FOR EDIBLE SOUVENIRS)
WHEN A PANDEMIC FORCED ME TO TRY TO MAKE MY OWN PINEAPPLE CAKES