When Guinness announced that they would be making mooncakes last year, we weren’t sure how popular they’d be. Sure, they were a good fit for the season, and the look was both creative and pleasing.
Still, beer and mooncakes- would people get it?
Well, they’re back this year, so that question is definitely answered.
“Same-same, but different”
The immediately noticeable difference between 2019’s and 2018’s versions is the packaging, which has returned to the traditional square-shaped mooncake box.
While we really liked last year’s box, it did cause a little inconvenience when one took only one mooncake out, and the tall lantern shape did have some fit issues in some freezer compartments. This year’s seems like a good compromise; it still looks pretty good, and it’s quite easy to store.
As for the flavour, it’s mostly the same, but there are some small differences. The old review covered our thoughts on the flavour and we love quoting ourselves, so (briefly):
The snowskin itself was soft but thick enough to contain the fillings; it retained its shape even after a bite. The filling had just the right consistency; the paste was soft and yielding, but retained its shape well.
The real clincher was the innermost layer, which replaced the egg yolk. A Guinness-infused chocolate ganache was housed within a crispy orb of white chocolate. The whole effect amused the tongue; with the soft outer layers punctuated by a hard layer of chocolate, then a creamy surprise at the end.
Taste-wise, there was little to complain about overall. The lotus paste paired well with the white coffee. It was sweet, but not cloyingly so, and even had the light bitterness reminiscent of Guinness. The ganache itself added both a little richness- and surprisingly, lightness, to the dessert.
We didn’t really get much of the Guinness flavour, however. It’s there, of course; a small tinge of it was sealed within the Ganache, but it fought against the coffee/lotus paste- and lost. If one was looking for a strong alcoholic flavour, it might be wiser to crack open a pint directly.
Overall, if we judged it as a mooncake, however, it tastes really good. A nice balance of luxuriance and flavour. We would say that we could eat the entire bite-sized portion- and then ask for seconds .
This year’s rendition seems quite similar, though a little less sweet and a tinge thicker on the Guinness flavour. To be frank, it’s still a little saccharine for our tastes (but we find most mooncakes to be, anyway).
We can say its a slight improvement on something that was quite edible already, so if you’ve had it before, it won’t disappoint, and if you haven’t, it’s worth a try. You can get a box for free (while stocks last) for each purchase of three (down from four) 4-can packs of Guinness Draught via Redmart, FairPrice Online, and Shopee.
Back, too are the limited-time mooncake crafting workshops and photography tricks sessions by leading food stylist C.R Tan (@xlbcr) on August 23 – 24, though it’s now 3 sessions daily. Sign up at get.guinness.com.
Drinking under the Moon
Well, we decided to add in a little extra this time, which has only a little bit to do with drinking (though hopefully, it’ll be worth your two minutes to read on).
While we consider ourselves citizens of the modern world, we’re traditional in some ways. Enjoying food and drink – especially alcoholic ones- while basking in the moonlight is an old Chinese tradition that we’re pleased to follow.
It’s also a tradition to enjoy some Chinese poetry, and we thought, that in keeping with tradition, we thought we’d leave you with a classic by Li Bai.
月下獨酌 ; Yuè xià dú zhuó
花间一壶酒 , Huā jiān yī hú jiǔ,
独酌无相亲 ; Dú zhuó wū xiāng qīn
举杯邀明月 , Jǔ bēi yāo míng yuè
对影成三人 。 Duì yǐng chéng sān rén
月既不解饮 , Yuè jì bù jiě yǐn
影徒随我身 ; Yǐng tú suí wǒ shēn
暂伴月将影 , Zàn bàn yuè jiāng yǐng
行乐须及春 。 Xíng lè xū jí chūn
我歌月徘徊 , Wǒ gē yuè pái huái
我舞影零乱 ; Wǒ wǔ yǐng líng luàn
醒时同交欢 , Xǐng shí tóng jiāo huān
醉后各分散 。 Zuì hòu gè fēn sàn
永结无情游 , Yǒng jié wú qíng yóu
相期邈云汉 。 Xiāng qī miǎo yún hàn
Drinking Alone under the Moon
Among the blossoms awaits a jug of wine.
I pour myself a drink, with no friends nearby.
Raising my cup, I invite the bright moon,
and turn to my shadow, and now we are three.
But the moon knows not the pleasures of wine,
and my shadow can only trail behind.
Moon and shadow accompany me for a time,
A transient joy through to spring.
I sing and the moon rocks with the time,
I dance and my shadow scatters.
Sober, we find joy together,
But drift apart when drunk.
Lost forever to worldly things
Until we reunite in the river of stars.