Mei's Melancholy Mooncakes

Step 1. Preheat your oven to 375°F/190°C. The following few steps will take a pretty long time if this is your first time following this recipe (or any recipe for mooncakes) though, so feel free to utilise the excess heat to dry your clean laundry, or to heat the house if you live in a chilly climate. Believe me, it'll keep parents off your back for seemingly 'wasting' their electricity.

Step 2. Prepare your mooncake fillings. These can vary (hence why you won't find them on the ingredients list) from sweet (like lotus seed or red bean paste, which I promise taste better than they sound) to savoury (like roasted pork or salted duck egg yolks, both absolutely delicious options) to downright untraditional and Americanised (like chocolate, or, well, any other Western confection). If you're short on time you can use store-brought fillings, but if you're making these for a conservative Chinese relative, you'd better make them from scratch.

See this blog post on how to make some traditional mooncake fillings from start-to-finish.

Step 3. Make your dough. This recipe is specifically for Cantonese-style mooncakes, so your end product will be a pastry with quite a chewy texture and consistency. But again, if making these for an important family function or for a traditionally-minded loved one, they may prefer pastry similar to that used for egg tarts, which is generally more 'tender' in texture, not dissimilar to shortcrust pastry. Not that I'd ever eat something as Westernised as pie crusts, of course, but that's beside the point. Do whatever best fits your needs for the dish.

Step 4. Wrap your dough mixture in cling film (or saran wrap, if you're in the US) and leave to rest for 30 minutes. During this time, you can practise your explanations to your traditionalist mother, on why you still don't have a medical doctorate or a PhD. Or plan your escape route to be able to get out of dinner early - whatever's most appropriate for your situation.

Step 5. Prepare your fillings. Depending on whether you've decided to make your mooncakes sweet or savoury, this may be either a 2 or 3-step process. If using salted duck egg yolks (ideal) or, well, any other kind of egg yolk (not as nice, but they'll do the job), this will form the centre of your filling, surrounded by whichever paste you have chosen. Make sure that the yolk is firmly and securely encased in the paste, or else you risk the mixture rupturing during baking, which doesn't end well, trust me. Your oven will end up looking like me when I said I wanted to be an actress at a family meal out in Soho. I still can't go back to that restaurant, not after the look of horror on that poor waiter's face when I showed them my acceptance letter to LSDA.

Note: if your dough looks as pale as she did, you may need to add extra golden syrup. It shouldn't look anaemic, or ashamed of its offspring.

Step 6. Wrap your ball of filling(s) inside your rested dough. Take your time with this step, making sure that again, the filling is completely covered with the dough. You can used your fingers to smooth out any cracks or joins in the surface of the dough, or if you'd prefer to keep your hands nice and clean (and disgrace your ancestors) you can either wear gloves or use a small spoon to do the job. Make sure whatever you do, though, it looks good - because it's not a myth, appearances really are everything.

Step 7. Mould your mooncakes and get ready to bake. Now, this is where traditional versus modernist really comes into play: any well-stocked Chinese household ought to have access to a traditional wooden mooncake mould, which should be oiled or dusted with cornstarch prior to pressing the dough inside, to avoid the mooncake becoming stuck. If this happens, however, do not panic: simply used clean fingers or a small spoon or fork to remove the mooncake, resmooth the surface and try again. Unlike my parents, the mooncakes won't made snide remarks if you don't get it right the first time. They're very forgiving that way.

Otherwise, you'll probably be able to find a modern mooncake mould online, from any reputable kitchen retailer or Amazon. These, again, simply have to have the mooncake mixture pressed firmly inside, but are then designed with a spring-loaded mechanism, so the mooncake shape and design are pressed into the dough, and the finished mooncake neatly pressed out onto your plate or baking tray. But again, oiling or dusting your mould with cornstarch (or coating the dough prior to pressing) is always an advisable extra step to avoid any disappointments. I would say it should warn against disappointment from your parents, too, but if you mess this step up, it's probably unforgivable. Usually is for me, anyway.

Step 8. Make sure all of your mooncakes are evenly spaced out on a baking tray, transfer to the oven and bake for 5 minutes. In the meantime, combine an egg yolk with a little water ready to egg wash the cakes, and contemplate what great failures at school led you to be attempting to retrace your ancestral roots through a random online mooncake video recipe. Make sure not to cry into the egg wash, as it will make the mooncakes taste salty and pathetic. Nobody wants that.

Note: if you don't have a picture-perfect memory or sense of rhythm and timing, you probably need an egg timer or the stopwatch on your phone to keep track of how long your cakes have been cooking. This way, you can focus less on counting, and more on trying to be less of a disappointment to all of your family and friends.

Step 9. After five minutes, remove the mooncakes from the oven, and apply the egg wash mixture with a pastry brush. Be sure to remove excess egg wash from the brush by pressing it against the bowl before brushing: if too much egg wash clogs the pattern on the top of your mooncakes, the design may be ruined. And then where would you be, if you can't even make mooncakes properly, hm?

Step 10. Return the mooncakes to the oven for another 5 minutes, then repeat Step 9, and return to the oven a final time for a further 10-15 minutes, or until evenly brown in colour. If you're unsure of whether or not to stop baking, simply open the oven to check - unlike your mother's expectations at university graduation, the mooncakes won't deflate upon your arrival.

Step 11. Once you are satisfied that your mooncakes are thoroughly cooked, remove from the oven and transfer from the baking tray to a cooling rack until cool enough to handle. Mooncakes are ready to eat once they are room temperature, and have a shiny appearance.

Note: whilst it is usually perfectly acceptable to chill your mooncakes after baking, and bring back to room temperature to serve, this is widely frowned upon in my family. So if you're following this recipe in some vain hope of getting my parents off my back, please don't even bother. It won't work.

Step 12. Enjoy your mooncakes! Whichever filling you've chosen, these are a delectable treat, deeply rooted in both Chinese culture and generally delicious cuisine all over the world - even other Asian countries have 'adapted' this recipe, and millions others like it, to create their own special little twists on a traditional and delightful sweet snack. And, unlike people, you can enjoy their company without needless nagging and condescension.

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Have feedback on this recipe, or want to share your own tips and tricks to thwart parental disappointment and over-baked desserts? Drop them down in the comments below, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can! But just remember to always be kind and respectful on this page - remember, we don't have to be like our parents. Let's be yummy mooncakes instead.

As always, your cheery self-deprecating baking buddy, Mei.