Lee points to a Cantonese phrase: zhu long ru shui – loosely translated as “cages entering the water,” a symbol of wealth flowing in. “That’s why sometimes you see them sold in pairs,” he says. “There is meaning behind it.”
The shop’s rhythm changes with the year. Mooncakes are made for the Mid-Autumn Festival; pineapple tarts follow closer to Lunar New Year. These are not items produced year-round. They arrive when the season calls for them.
“People know when to come,” Lee says. “We don’t need to tell them.”
It always returns to taste – and to consistency.
“The crust must hold, but not too hard,” he explains, referring to the pineapple tarts. “The filling cannot be too wet, cannot be too dry. If it changes, customers will know.”
Many of those customers have been returning for years. Some come in person, others send someone on their behalf. Over time, the faces change, but the act of returning remains.
“Sometimes the parents come, later the children come,” Lee says. “Same family, different generation.”
There have been adjustments. Leonard has travelled to Hong Kong to pick up new techniques. The range has expanded to include crystal skin mooncakes, and new flavours appear from time to time.
“But the way we work is still the same,” he says. “That part doesn’t change so much.”
Through the day, the sequence continues – filling, wrapping, pressing, setting aside. Small corrections are made without comment: a slight change in pressure, a longer pause before baking.
