Duanwu Jie (or 端午节, Dragon Boat Festival) has always been present in my family through the making of bak chang. My mother would prepare them, offer them to the gods, and share them with people who mattered to us. Although she is Peranakan, she would make the Hokkien-style savoury bak chang, shaped by my father’s and grandmother’s Hokkien background. Occasionally, she would also buy the sweet Peranakan-style nonya chang for us. I have always preferred the nonya version. My personal journey in making the chang began in 2003. I think I went through two major phases in my nonya chang making journey: an early experimentation or "fusion" phase, and a later maturation into the nonya style. What began as experimentation shaped by homesickness has, over time, grown into something grounded in memory, belonging, and continuity - and, ultimately, in how I understand my own identity.
I started making it in 2003 when I was based in Tampa. I was living in a western country, navigating life as a minority, and I remember a persistent sense of loneliness and distance from my cultural roots. Food became a way of returning to something familiar. In that space, I began experimenting with bak chang. There was no clear recipe at the start - only instinct and memory. I went to a Vietnamese grocery shop and bought the ingredients and bamboo leaves. What emerged was a version that, at times, resembled Hokkien choot bee png (fried glutinous rice) wrapped in bamboo leaves, rather than bak chang in its fully formed sense. To many of us Asians based in Tampa, however, it carried a familiar resonance of home, and it became an unexpected success among fellow Asian military personnel on base.
In the years that followed, after returning to Singapore, I began to refine the recipe through trial and error. My mother guided me in those early years, especially in emphasising the importance of coriander powder and winter melon. What emerged was a fusion version that I was rather proud of - it felt like a meeting point between my parents’ heritage: Hokkien on one side, Peranakan on the other. Yet beneath that satisfaction was a quieter pull. I had wanted to make nonya chang, but the result kept settling into something in-between. I knew the ingredient mix was not quite right but could not pinpoint exactly what. Still, I was elated that my parents, especially my mother, enjoyed what I made. I sometimes wondered whether her enjoyment was also shaped by her own Peranakan upbringing, something she had carried differently after marrying into my father’s more traditional Hokkien family.
Over time, I kept adjusting the recipe with each passing year. Each year brought small refinements, and gradually the nonya character became more distinct - the first real turning point being the removal of hae bee (dried shrimp) and an increase in coriander powder. What had once been experimentation slowly became something more intentional, as though I was uncovering rather than inventing it. I have continued this annual practice ever since, and this year I went further, making adjustments to both the ingredients and the cooking method. The filling was made more savoury; the rice given more depth with extra garlic, fresh and fried shallots; and salt added to the boiling water to prevent dilution of flavours during cooking. The outcome felt closer than ever to what I had been seeking.
Looking back, what stands out is not the technical evolution of the recipe, but the emotional thread running through it. Making nonya chang has become a quiet way of staying connected - to my heritage, my parents, and their histories. More than that, it has gradually become part of who I am.
Here's my latest recipe >> Nonya Chang 2026
Here's a quick explanation to what the festival is: >> The festival commemorates the patriot and poet Qu Yuan and celebrates the enduring values of loyalty, remembrance, and community. These days, families mark the occasion by enjoying the bak chang or rice dumplings together, watching or participating in dragon boat races, and gathering to preserve cultural traditions across generations.
