Kevin K.
Yelp
Whenever I travel around the world, I look closely for the influence of foodways - how foods are prepared, consumed, and how those methods are passed down from one generation to the next. Sometimes certain foodways are adopted by local customs where they thrive and grow. Take Baumkuchen, the German tree-ring cake introduced into Western Japan after WW1. Greatly loved by the Japanese, it was widely adopted by local bakers, and flavor variations like matcha and azuke bean varieties appear to suit their taste, to the point where it is almost impossible to avoid them in Japanese markets. However, some other foodways stagnate and die off for various reasons.
Take the Chinese Dragon's Beard Candy, for instance. It was invented about 2000 years ago back in the Imperial courts as a chef's way of showing off his sugar handling skills to the Emperor. It's made by taking stretching semi-solid sugar syrup repeatedly and dusting it with glutinous rice flour to ensure the strands stay separate. Then a mixture of peanuts, coconut and sugar are folded in like wispy packets. If you ever had pismaniye (candyfloss Halva) in Turkey, it's actually quite similar.
The foodways associated with Dragon's beard candy (DBC) are nearly dead. During the Chinese cultural revolution of the 1960s it was considered political suicide to associate any items to the Imperial era, so many of the candymakers put away their candy hooks and never returned to the craft, and the younger generation never learned from their elders. Amongst the diaspora it was practiced, but the candy making art is quite labor intensive to get right. In Hong Kong back in the old days it was considered a way for someone to earn an honest living, stretching candy in a food stall, akin to Japanese candymakers making sculpture of glutinous rice candies outside the shrines or street festivals. Unfortunately, due to how tedious it was to make the candies, not that many people choose to learn the trade - the old candymakers hang up their hooks, and most never had a chance to pass the skills onto apprentices. In Hong Kong nowadays it's pretty rare to see the old candy masters stretch DBCs. You might see industrially produced varieties in supermarkets, but they are mostly meant to appeal to the nostalgia market, and not quite appealing to local palates, especially when Haagen-Daz is around every corner.
Enter Montreal. Looks like les boys made a pact with the devil for their past success in hockey. For the price of being bestowed with all those Stanley cups they are given the honor of hosting balls-freezingly cold winters and short summers, and most of the time it's not that humid. Someone from Southern China was willing to put up with etudie Francais pour les dollars Quebecois. Oh bien. Somehow Montreal ended up with its own DBC emporium. Congrats - there's none left in New York's Chinatown, so I guess the tabarnacs will have to raise the mantle of keeping DBC alive on this side of the St. Lawrence Seaway.
Okay, more practical aspects of this review. The place is a tiny storefront with a counter and a prep table inside. The DBCs are on-par for the trade, which is to say, they are okay but not exemplary. The egg rolls are kinda meh. The bubble teas are reconstituted from powders, and the waffles...eh, don't they have waffle makers in your hotel's breakfast bar? For fucks sake it's the only DBC place within 400 miles, stick to the DBC. I mean, I am not going out of my way for some, but if I end up on De Gauchtiere/St. Laurent and feel like it, I'll drop by and pick up a box, just to keep the old foodway alive. Who knows what will happen if/when the candymaster retire.
Just one more thing - the trick to traditional DBC is that it's not meant for prolonged transportation, since the texture gets messed up by moisture and time. Whenever I buy some, the box will not last beyond, oh, an hour. Don't make the mistake of trying to keep it overnight. It doesn't work.
