Every year on the 15th day of the 8th month of the lunar calendar, when the moon is at its brightest for the year, Chinese people celebrate "zhong qiu jie" - the Mid-Autumn Festival.

In the weeks leading up to this, Ellen and I suffer from what we've dubbed, "mooncake madness". It is traditional for people to present each other with these pastries, and we seem to get these in abundance.

The only problem is, we don't like them.

For those of you who don't know what a mooncake is, they're a round pastry, roughly palm-sized, traditionally baked in a wooden mould. They are meant to be shared and so are cut diagonally into four before serving.

Traditionally, mooncakes in Guangdong province and other southern regions contain an egg yolk in the center, which is quite salty. More elaborate versions of mooncakes contain four egg yolks (representing the four phases of the moon). Being able to appreciate these requires an acquired taste that neither Ellen nor I seem to have.

Some people have likened mooncakes to mince pies, which are traditionally served around Christmas time in Britain and Australia. These are small, short-crust pies filled with a mixture of dry fruits that have often been soaked in brandy or rum.

Last year, I thought I'd have a go at making "mince pie mooncakes", and I set out to gather the ingredients. I found a good recipe for pastry, though rather high on butter.

Unfortunately, the effort was somewhat stalled at inception, as I couldn't find the required variety of dry fruits - no matter how far afield I went looking for them. So the idea was shelved until I could solve the problem.

This year I thought of making a different type of mooncake, with a lower fat crust, and a light but sweet filling. I scoured my recipe books for ideas, but didn't find anything really suitable.

I could try and turn my hand at making moulded chocolate ones, and filling them with a fluffy mousse mixture, but with Ellen and I both trying to lose weight, it would rather defeat the purpose.

Mooncakes are getting more elaborate by the year, and Ellen and I end up with several boxes of these that we are highly unlikely to eat. So what do we do with the mooncakes we're given? We re-gift them.

A couple of years ago, I was given a rather pretty box of mooncakes. After admiring them, and telling the person who presented them to me how wonderful they were, I stowed them under my desk for the rest of the day, with a couple of other boxes of mooncakes, given to other staff members. To avoid confusion, I put a small green sticky dot on the side of the box, so I'd know they were mine.

At the end of the day, I presented them to my boss, who also admired them, and told me how wonderful they were.

Imagine my surprise when, two days later, the accountant gave me a box of mooncakes - with a small green dot on the side. It seems that this batch of mooncakes had done the rounds of the office, being passed on from one staff member to another, before being ceremonially gifted back to me.

I took them home, and we gave them to Ellen's parents - who promptly gave them to Ellen's godfather.

Luckily, we never saw them again!

For China Daily

(China Daily 09/22/2010 page8)