Irresistible Bánh Bó Mứt, Bánh Bác, Mãng Cầu

Unlock sweet secrets of Bánh Bó Mứt and others where tradition meets temptation.

During every Mid-Autumn Festival, the bustling streets of Vietnam awaken with the tantalizing scent of mooncakes. While baked mooncakes have ancient Chinese origins, many Vietnamese still engage in debates about how snow skin mooncakes started in Vietnam. Yet, a trio of ancient Vietnamese cakes emerges, giving snow skin mooncakes a real run for their money.

Meet the stars of the show: bánh bác (baked cake) from the North, bánh bó mứt (bundled candied cake) from the Central region, and bánh mãng cầu (custard apple cake) from the South. These cakes are like the quirky cousins of snow skin mooncakes, each with its own unique twist and a story to tell.

Bánh Bác (Baked Cake)

Giang Xa village in Hoai Duc district, Hanoi, has roots that stretch back to the early years of our era. According to local legend, King Ly Nam De was once a humble disciple at Linh Bao pagoda in the village. When he decided to rise up against the Liang army, the villagers didn’t just cheer from the sidelines – they jumped right in to support him with all their might. 

In 544, Ly Nam De ascended the throne and established Van Xuan, the first independent Vietnamese country since the days of the Trung sisters in 40 AD. The villagers, ever loyal, built a temple on the site of the old Linh Bao pagoda to honor their hero and declared him their guardian god. 

Bánh bác is a cherished annual offering at Giang Xa communal house on the 12th day of the first lunar month marking the founding day of Van Xuan country, and at the temple on the 12th day of the ninth lunar month celebrating the birthday of Ly Nam De. 

The exact origin of bánh bác is lost to time, but its name pops up in the 16th-century Chỉ Nam Ngọc Âm giải nghĩa, Vietnam’s first Han-Nom dictionary. The dictionary states “Bac Thac is bánh bác” (translated by Tran Xuan Ngoc Lan, Khoa hoc Xa hoi Publishing House 1985, p. 117). While its origin may be a mystery, the tradition of offering bánh bác is very much alive and well.

Traditionally, the journey of bánh bác begins with soaking sticky rice until soft and grounding it into a fine powder. After draining, the flour is split into two parts: one part gets a vibrant makeover with gấc (red spiny gourd), turning a bright festive red, while the other part stays pure and white. The smooth dough is divided into small blocks and baked on a hot cast iron pan.

The word “bác” means “to bake” in ancient Vietnamese, and baking is the heart and soul of making bánh bác. This crucial step is summed up by the village’s 80-year-old baking maestro, Mr. Đỗ Phú Thủ, in a simple yet profound phrase: “baking with fat, turning by hand”. Under the artisans’ skillful hands, the flour obediently spreads on the hot pan, cooking to perfection while remaining elastic.

Mastering the art of “turning by hand” is no small feat. Mr. Thủ has spent many years perfecting this technique with countless blisters and burns until he could feel the dough’s thickness and doneness with the precision of a seasoned chef. His hands move with a dancer’s grace, spreading, pressing, turning, and rotating the dough until it reaches its perfection.

The baked doughs are rolled into square rectangular sheets, with one layer a vibrant red and the other a pristine white. At the heart of this creation lies a pillar of sugared mung bean paste. While rolling, the red and white layers lovingly embrace the golden bean paste, forming a long cylinder. The roll is dotted with fragrant roasted sesame, adding a touch of nutty aroma.

Next, the roll is enveloped in banana leaves, secured with bamboo strips, and allowed to rest. Upon slicing, it reveals exquisite round cakes resembling blossoms whose petals are adorned in red and white with a golden pistil. The scarlet hue of gấc fruit harmonizes with the creamy rice and the sun-kissed yellow of mung beans, resulting in a radiant appearance. The tender skin complements the velvety filling, while a delicate flour undertone accentuates the sweetness of beans and sugar, all crowned by the fragrance of roasted sesame.

Despite its simple ingredients and entirely handmade process, bánh bác proves that sometimes old-school treats can outshine even the fanciest modern cakes, demonstrating the creativity and aesthetic sense of the ancient Vietnamese. 

In the quaint village of Giang Xa, bánh bác has stepped back into the spotlight. No longer confined to festive celebrations, this ancient delicacy now graces everyday occasions – weddings, engagements, and gatherings alike. Beyond the local community, neighboring towns also eagerly place their orders. The authentic allure of bánh bác shines once more – a great news for lovers of traditional Vietnamese cuisine.

Bánh Bó Mứt (Bundled Candied Cake)

In the 14th century, Dai Viet received Chau O and Chau Ri from the Champa kingdom and renamed them Thuan Hoa. Immigrants from Nghe An and Ha Tinh settled there. By the 17th century, Thanh Hoa residents followed Lord Nguyen Hoang to Thuan Hoa and Quang Nam. As a result, many local people in Hue, the cultural epicenter of Thuan Hoa, can trace their lineage back to these provinces in Vietnam’s North Central region. The tempestuous weather and rugged terrain have forged resilient inhabitants, instilling frugality as a way of life.

Hue’s character is deeply rooted in frugality, and its cuisine reflects this ethos. The locals often rely on seasonal and locally sourced ingredients, which not only align with their practical mindset but also prove extremely economical. However, as the capital for 150 years, Hue has evolved, infusing sophistication and aesthetics into its culinary traditions. 

A savory example of this fusion is bánh bó mứt, born from the union of a “frugal” father and a “sophisticated” mother. By combining available candied fruits with roasted sticky rice flour and syrup, Hue created a cake that is both visually stunning and utterly delicious.

When I was a child, I always eagerly awaited my mother’s preparation of bánh bó mứt in the days leading up to Tet (Vietnamese New Year). 

To begin, sticky rice flour was roasted with pandan leaves. My mother carefully prepared the sugar syrup, adding egg whites during cooking to remove any impurities. Meanwhile, I put all kinds of candied fruits into small bowls, from orange-red carrots, yellow pineapples and ginger, to white winter melons, coconuts, brown dried bananas, and specially candied tangerine peel.

My main role was to slowly pour the hot syrup for my mother as she kneaded the dough. Once the dough achieved a soft consistency, she rolled it into layers. I watched in awe as she arranged alternating layers of candied fruits, creating a beautiful mosaic of colors. Swiftly, she rolled it into a log shape, its four edges were perfectly square. 

After allowing the cake to rest for a few hours, my mother cut it into plump, square slices. The exterior got a thin layer of sticky rice flour, while the interior was a sensational blend of softness, crispiness, tanginess, sweetness and fragrance. Its festive colors made it one of the most irresistible dishes I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting.

In her book Cooking Hue Dishes (1943), Ms. Hoang Thi Kim Cuc shares an alternative method for making bánh bó mứt. Her approach involves blending syrup, flour, and candied fruits, which are then poured onto a tray and shaped into a loaf. Additionally, she suggests variations: incorporating roasted peanuts and sesame for a nutty depth, along with dried jackfruit and banana for sweetness and chewiness. (Ho Chi Minh City General Publishing House 2004, p. 200)

The third method stays true to its name ‘bundled.’ Start by arranging candied fruits into a compact bundle. Sprinkle them with flour, then slowly pour syrup to bind the fruits together. This method, perhaps witnessing the birth of bánh bó mứt, required time and care. The resourceful Hue ladies invented the other two methods for efficiency. Remarkably, this cake remains delicious for 10 days without preservatives, defying the constraints of time and refrigeration.

After a long absence, bánh bó mứt is tiptoeing back into Hue’s culinary competitions and festivals. It’s not merely a revival; it’s a dance of flavors and a reborn memory.

Bánh Mãng Cầu (Custard Apple Cake)

In the beginning of the 20th century, fruit-shaped cakes always adorned the tables during Tet celebrations and weddings in Vietnam’s Southwest. Among these edible works of art, only custard apple cakes have endured the test of time.

During that era, crafting custard apple cakes required significant effort. People painstakingly soaked and transformed sticky rice into finely ground flour, then manually roasted the flour. Nowadays, ready-roasted flour streamlines the process, offering much-needed convenience.

The color of custard apple cake is derived from green pandan leaves, and occasionally, purple magenta leaves. The vibrant juice extracted from crushed pandan leaves engages in a sweet tango with coconut milk and sugar in the pot. As the pot simmers, their flavors intertwine like old friends catching up over tea.

Meanwhile, mung beans and grated coconut waltz in the sweet embrace of sugar. The Southwest has a secret move: a pinch of salt to balance the sweetness. And coconut should pair with roasted peanuts, a typical Southern style. With coconut on the inside and mung bean on the outside, a dozen of beautiful balls for the filling are ready.

Tapioca flour melds with the pandan mixture and sticky rice flour to form a sticky dough. From this dough emerge small round segments lovingly adhered to the filling ball. Imagine a beautiful green fruit, its skin adorned with a delicate white wax, complete with real branches and leaves – it’s a custard apple brought to life. As you peel back the soft, yielding cover, the whisper of coconut’s taste beckons. Within, rich and tender mung beans intermingle with crunchy coconut and peanuts, resulting in an eye-catching and utterly appetizing masterpiece.

Bánh bác, bánh bó mứt, and bánh mãng cầu represent just a small fraction of the delectable and diverse world of traditional Vietnamese cakes. How many other delightful cakes have vanished over time, their recipes lost to history? Let us hope that in the future, these ancient treasures will resurface proudly in the hands of Vietnamese gourmets, shining in their best glory.

mlefood – Minh Lê