Tang Hu Lu
(Candied Hawthorn)
糖葫芦
English: Tang Hu Lu / Candied Hawthorn
Chinese: 糖葫芦
Pinyin: tang hu lu
Literal: Sugar gourd (the name refers to the fact that the treat looks like a type of gourd known as ‘hu lu’ in Chinese).
For Beijingers, tang hu lu is the taste of childhood winters: frosty afternoons with grandparents, the low sun glinting off the frozen lakes of Houhai, and bicycle vendors weaving down the hutongs with baskets bristling with candied hawthorns. From a distance, the baskets look like great red hedgehogs, each glossy fruit a rare flash of colour in a city of grey winters.
Where Britain has its toffee apples, Beijing has tang hu lu. But instead of oversized apples that defeat even the most determined child, tang hu lu uses small, sour hawthorns—fruit that ripens in October and keeps well through the winter months. Fresh, they resemble plump, dusty cherries freckled with pale spots; dipped in hot syrup, they transform into jewels of fire-engine red. And unlike the toffee apple, which is all too often abandoned halfway through, tang hu lu strikes the perfect harmony: sharp, mouth-watering fruit coated in a thin, glassy crack of sweetness.
Like so many Beijing snacks, tang hu lu traces its roots back to the Song Dynasty. As with most good Chinese food stories, it’s hard to separate fact from legend, but one tale tells of an emperor’s ailing favourite concubine. Doctor after doctor tried their remedies, but she was cured only when she took a liking to hawthorn fruit dipped in sugar—an unlikely prescription that became an imperial favourite.
From there, the treat found its way onto Beijing’s streets, where residents have always been fascinated by the foods of the palace. Vendors would dip skewered hawthorns into molten sugar, then hold them up to the bone-dry northern wind, letting the syrup harden into a clear, brittle shell. It’s no coincidence tang hu lu flourished in the dry North: even a hint of humidity melts the sugar into a sticky mess.
These days, the old street sellers are rarer, but when you hear their calls and catch sight of a bicycle bristling with red, it cheers everyone up - children and adults alike.
Makes 10 skewers
Ingredients
400-500g fresh hawthorns
200g rock sugar
100g water
10 bamboo sticks
15g sesame seeds
10 wooden skewers needed - the shorter the better for this recipe, long ones are hard to dip into a pan.
Method
Note: If your sugar starts to crystallise, adding a splash of lemon juice can help. If the sugar starts to reduce too quickly before all the rock sugar has melted, you can add a touch more water, but make sure the water is boiling otherwise it can shock the sugar.
Prepare the fruit: Wash the hawthorns and pat them completely dry. Remove the stalks, then make a horizontal cut around the middle of each fruit. Twist gently to open and remove the core. Press the two halves back together.
Thread the reassembled hawthorns onto bamboo skewers, piercing through the centre so they sit snugly. Add 4-6 per skewer (you’ll rarely see 4 in China, as it’s considered unlucky). Slide the first fruit down about 15 cm - far enough to give space for dipping, but not so far that it becomes awkward to eat - then add the rest. Repeat with all skewers.
In a clean wok, dry-fry the sesame seeds for 1–2 minutes until fragrant and lightly golden. Tip them into a small bowl and set aside.
Make the syrup. Pour the sugar and water into the wok and heat over medium until it begins to bubble. Reduce to low heat and let the syrup cook undisturbed - don’t stir or shake the pan, as this can cause crystallising. Continue simmering until the sugar turns a light golden colour and reaches the crack stage (around 145°C). Turn off the heat.
Test the syrup. To check if it will harden properly, prepare a small bowl of cold water. Dip a chopstick into the hot syrup, then into the water. The coating should turn hard almost immediately. Bite or press it gently: it should be crisp and brittle, not soft or chewy. If it’s still pliable, return the syrup to the heat and cook a little longer. This test is particularly handy if you don’t have a thermometer.
Put a place next to the stove and smear a little oil over it. Keep the toasted sesame within reach.
Tilt the wok so the syrup pools on one side, then dip each skewer, turning it to coat the hawthorns evenly in the glossy sugar. Sprinkle with sesame while still sticky, then lay the finished skewers on the oiled plate to cool and harden.
Once set, they’re ready to eat. After a while, the sugar will soften so they’re best eat within the first few hours.
