Dragon’s beard candy. It’s an evocative name for a memorable sweet, so named for the thin, wispy white strands of sugar that surround a crunchy peanut and sesame filling within. They’re fluffy and melt-in-your-mouth on the outside; crunchy turning sticky within. And no matter how careful you are, you’ll always end up covered in those delicate white strands. It’s a true taste of Hong Kong childhood, sold on the streets of the city and made in front of your eyes: a single ring of maltose sugar becoming hundreds of threads of wispy dragon’s beard. But these days, finding hand-made dragon’s beard candy in Hong Kong is about as easy as tracking down the mythical dragon: for street vendors, the work is hard, and machines have taken over most of the production.
Credit: Elvis Chung
Credit: Elvis Chung
Credit: Elvis Chung
For Wong Hon-keung, founder of confectioners Bamboo Garden , this sweet, fluffy treat brings back fond memories of his father, a dragon’s beard candy master, and a youth spent making and selling the sweet outside school gates. “In those days, mastering this craft was a reliable source of income,” he recalls. But it was never easy work: crafting the dragon’s beard threads is difficult and highly temperature-sensitive. On hot and humid days, they turn damp and mushy. When it’s too dry, the sugar is brittle and prone to snapping.
Wong’s father taught him to pull sugar at a young age. But it never seemed like a real career, until he was invited to showcase the skill at Hong Kong International Airport in 2000. “We demonstrated how to make dragon’s beard candy at the airport, and it attracted a lot of tourists,” Wong says. “However, the candy had a very short shelf life and would harden over time, which gave it an unpleasant texture.”
It motivated Wong to perfect his recipe. After studying his father’s books and conducting countless experiments, Wong opened Bamboo Garden in 2002 – selling his own dragon’s beard candy, hand-made and preservative-free, but with real staying power. Wong modernised the recipe, changing it up to make it less tooth-sticking, and also introducing a range of new fillings – from black sesame to chocolate, jasmine tea and even a touch of popping candy.
Credit: Elvis Chung
But with fewer and fewer vendors on the streets, it’s getting harder to keep this slice of hand-made Hong Kong alive. Wong holds workshops and school outreach programmes to promote this traditional treat to younger generations. He also hosts classes to pass on his techniques to others. “After so many years in the business, I’ve learned to accept all the ups and downs,” he says. “But when it comes to the craft of candy-making, I’m not willing to give up.”
To Wong, dragon’s beard candy isn’t just a slice of tradition – it also represents a deep connection between father and son. It’s a craft that runs through his blood, like a thousand sugar threads.
Some dragon’s beard candy masters have moved on to hosting workshops at corporate events, or showing off their craft at banquets. One is 66-year-old Albert Au, who’s been making the candy for nearly three decades.
“The sugar paste needs to be softened in warm water first, then dipped in glutinous rice flour to facilitate stretching,” says Au as he effortlessly demonstrates the process. “Before pulling the sugar, I create a hole in the middle of the dough, twist it into an ‘8’ shape, and keep folding and stretching.”
How does he know how many threads are in a dragon’s beard candy? “I just make them by touch, and by experience,” Au smiles. It’s the benefit of decades of practice – and the hand-made touch..