"To live is to experience things, not sit around pondering the meaning of life."
--Paulo Coelho, Aleph
Every autumn—prior to the fifteenth
day of the eighth month of the lunar calendar, to be exact—when the moon
reaches its brightest day of the year, the Chinese celebrate Zhong Qiu Jie—the Mid-Autumn
festival. Also known as the, ‘Moon
Festival’, Zhong Qiu Jie is the
second largest national holiday in China. During this holiday one is incapable
of walking about China without noticing the elegantly decorated red and gold
boxes, ubiquitous throughout the streets. These lavish boxes don’t hold blocks
of solid gold as the extravagantly adorned exterior might suggest, but instead they
contain something peculiar to the Western eye:
Mooncakes (see photos below).
The
story behind the Moon Festival, depending on your take on history, is one of
the following:
A. “Children are
told the story of the moon fairy living in a crystal palace, who comes out to
dance on the moon’s shadowed surface. The legend surrounding the “lady living
in the moon” dates back to ancient times, to a day when ten suns appeared at
once in the sky. The Emperor ordered a famous archer to shoot down the nine
extra suns. Once the task was accomplished, Goddess of Western Heaven rewarded
the archer with a pill that would make him immortal. However, his wife found
the pill, took it, and was banished to the moon as a result. Legend says that
her beauty is greatest on the day of the Moon festival.”
Or
B. “The most
famous legend surrounding the Moon festival concerns its possible role in the
Chinese history. Overrun by the Mongols in the thirteenth century, the Chinese
threw off their oppressors in 1368 AD. It is said that mooncakes – which the
Mongols did not eat – were the perfect vehicle for hiding and passing along
plans for the rebellion. Families were instructed not to eat the mooncakes
until the day of the moon festival, which is when the rebellion took place. (In
another version plans were passed along in mooncakes over several years of
Mid-Autumn festivals, but the basic idea is the same).”
Because
I am a super practical realist, I am going to go with story A. Passing notes in
mooncakes is a bit too far fetched for me, however, the idea of a beautiful
goddess-fairy lighting up the moon has logic. I’m sure astronauts, upon her
discovery, wanted to keep the
fairy for themselves so they brought her to earth and just pretended she was a
human. But then the CIA found out and they had to put the beautiful fairy back
on the moon. This sounds like an interesting conspiracy theory on what happened
with Marilyn Monroe or Jonbenet Ramsey.
I’ll leave it to the reader to make
up their mind on the true story behind the mooncake festival, but the greater
question still remains—what is a
mooncake?
Mooncakes are an essential edible
delicacy for the Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival. The taste is, put
politely…interesting. While mooncake varieties are as infinite as candy cane
flavors at Christmastime, they are all essentially a pastry made up of lard
(gross) or vegetable oil crust with assorted fillings. The cakes are more or
less palmed sized with approximately 1,000 calories per serving.
Now, in the United States we may be
plagued with rampant obesity, but we didn’t become the most corpulent nation in
the world for lack of delicious food. If there is one thing we are better at
than being fat, it is designing the food that gets us there. Case in point, if
someone in the United States is going to eat something with 1,000 calories per serving, it better be chocolate
dipped in Twinkies deep fried in butter (enter Iowa State Fair) or deep fried
steak wrapped in bacon, and breaded with fried mayonnaise balls.
What lies inside these innocuous
little cakes is not fudge or a triple chocolate Oreo pasty (or even a Keltin
weight-gain bar fed to the African children in Mean Girls). In lieu
of such tasty, artery-clogging comestibles, fillings such as ‘red bean’ or
‘lotus seed paste’ commonly grace the insides of the legendary mooncake. Who wastes 1,000 calories per serving on
lotus seed paste and red beans?!?!?
Mooncakes today go far beyond lotus
seed paste as the Chinese have become creative over the thousands of mooncake
years. This year I actually bit into a moon cake that had creepy meat in it.
MEAT! In a cake! It goes without saying that cake and meat should never, ever be mixed. I know what I will be bringing up at the next United Nations
Summit—no one is safe in a world where cake has meat in it. No one.
As strange as it is to be inundated
with creepy meat flavored mooncakes, I suppose it wouldn’t be any less
obnoxious for a Chinese person, having no knowledge of Christmas, to be chased
around by a fat man with a long white beard on a sleigh pulled by reindeer.
That is quite terrifying now that I think about it. I guess every culture has
its own little idiosyncrasies that are bizarre to the outside eye and I should
be obliged to forgive the Chinese for hiding meat in cake. I’ll work on it.
Happy belated Moon Festival to you all!!
Each year, the university provides all foreign teachers the gift of a box of their very own mooncakes
I couldn't be the only one expecting to find treasure inside
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, mooncake!
Apart from the Chinese, it would take Watson and Crick to unravel the inner-workings of the mooncake.
Sources: Parkinson, Rhonda. "The Moon Festival-Mid-Autumn Festival." About.com Chinese Food. About.com, n.d. Web. 01 Oct. 2012 <http://chinesefood.about.com/od/mooncake/a/moonfestival.htm>.