hup toh soh (chinese walnut cookies)

Hi guys! It's Nona Nona time again, and this month's theme, Chinese New Year, was picked by Biren, who helms Roti n Rice and Tea Tattler and is my blogger BFF and partner in crime. We've been at this for almost a year now, since our first Nona Nona collaboration, the object being to present two different dishes each month, on the same theme, without revealing to each other, what dish we're preparing, until the day of the reveal.

So far we've mostly managed to avoid colliding in the dark, save for our last two collaborations first here and then again here, when we both presented the same dish.

This time, I'm pretty sure we won't be duplicating each other, but fingers firmly crossed, all the same. Now that we're done with the intros, let's roll up our sleeves and get those aprons on!

These delightful and easy cookies are a Cantonese creation, which is no surprise, as the Cantonese do seem really fond of walnuts, turning them not only into amazingly fragrant and crunchy cookies, but also lovely sweet soups, and moreish caramel coated nibbles.

But, back to these cookies - they're my absolute favourite Chinese New Year treat, though I am firmly in the chewy cookie camp. I can't resist their crumbly and light texture, and the intoxicating aroma of toasty walnuts and sweet, creamy vanilla. But, the tipping point for me, is the salty-sweet flavour juxtaposition of these pretty morsels; it makes them irresistible and alarmingly addictive.

I don't know how far this is true, but I've been told these cookies were traditionally made without walnuts (say what??) and with lots of lard. The lard bit I get as it has long been associated with Chinese pastry making, seeing as how much they love the very tasty pig and how butter has never been a part of the traditional southern Chinese diet. The no-walnut rule though, has me puzzled. Why call it a walnut cookie if it's not supposed to have walnuts in it?? One of my boys likens the fissured surface of the baked cookie to the appearance of a walnut kernel, but his brother shot him right down with his insistence that they look more like dried shiitake mushroom caps. Hmm, the doughy plot thickens...

Chinese New Year is a very big deal in Singapore as more than eighty percent of the local population is of Chinese origin. In fact, not so very long ago, in busy bustling Singapore, many Chinese owned businesses would close for an entire week during Chinese New Year, to mark the occasion. Even street traffic would decrease dramatically as celebrants prepared to be reunited with family members and relatives not seen since the previous year's reunion dinner, often crossing the border into Malaysia, to do so. These days, with the demands of burgeoning enterprise, expansion and globalisation, the wheels of commerce keep turning regardless, so Singapore no longer takes on the veneer of a ghost town, during Chinese New Year.

Still, some things never change and you will still see cheery red lidded plastic containers filled with all manner of treats, that herald the galloping approach of the Lunar New Year, at neightbourhood shops, Chinese New Year bazaars and supermarkets, gaily dotting the island, for weeks before the actual day. It's almost like red tide sweeping the country, though I have to admit, it's an uplifting sight, and my blood pumps faster, walking between walls of red lids, at the supermarket. These treats, though never as wonderful as home baked versions, are a godsend for those too busy or unable to bake their own. But, I noted while perusing them, a conspicuous absence of hup toh soh, amidst the avalanche of charcoal cookies, pineapple rolls, love letters, kueh bangkit, cashew, peanut and green pea cookies. All very well, but no representation for my favourite Chinese cookie??! Shocking, and unacceptable.

So, here is my recipe for them, in case you miss them and bemoan their glaring exclusion from store shelves and festive bazaar displays, as much as I do. Many recipes specify butter which gives wonderful flavour but oil gives them incredible lightness and flakiness and walnuts are so flavourful that I don't miss the butter very much. And, I am not kidding about how crunchy and delicate these cookies are - you'll need a saucer under your chin when eating them or be prepared to sweep up showers of crumbs.

These are usually glazed with beaten egg or egg yolk, for a richer colour, but I brushed them with a mixture of soy milk, vegetable oil and sugar instead, because I just don't like how the cookies smell when they are baked with an egg glaze. If you prefer the thicker, glossier lacquer of the traditional egg glaze, feel free to crack one open. My cookies are darker than most Chinese bakers make theirs, because I have doubled the amount of walnuts usually called for. If you want a more traditional, paler cookie, reduce the walnuts and correspondingly increase the flour to make up a total of 300 g or 3 cups of flour and nuts combined. I'll always go for taste over looks, buuuuut... that's just me.

How do you not love a cookie that not only tastes wonderful, but is also an undertaking as easy as it is enjoyable? I find pinching off, rolling and pressing down the dough induces a state of almost zen-like serenity. Just what the doctor ordered and what the hectic season demands.

Now, if you're as curious as I am about what's going on in Biren's kitchen, click here to find out what Chinese New Year treat she has for you. I hope you enjoy these scrumptious cookies, as much as my family relished every single one of the three batches I made. For more seasonal treats to make your family smile, check out my recipes for Chinese Braised Peanuts and Sweet Potato Tang Yuan. Before I go, I'd like to wish all my lovely Chinese readers,

A Very Happy New Year

or as we say around here, 

Gong Xi Fa Cai, Hong Bao Na Lai!

May this year's snake be venomless and vegan, with a sunny disposition. Yeah, go ahead, laugh. You're not a tasty, juicy goat, are you?  I didn't think so....

click here for printable recipe