From the Forbidden Palace to Bamboo Plaza

Only in the Los Angeles area can you taste a candy that was once reserved for the emperors of China. This is Dragon’s Beard Candy, a fragile concoction of delicate, sweet threads folded around a mixture of finely chopped nuts and sesame seeds.

Ko Fai Lam, who sells the candy from a cart in Chinatown, says that he and his wife are the only people in the United States who make it.

On weekends you find Lam in the courtyard of Bamboo Plaza on North Hill Street. Place an order and Lam sets to work. Donning a protective mask, he takes a lump of what looks like a soft, flour-coated dough. This “dough” is composed of honey and malt syrup cooked with water and allowed to cool overnight. Lam pulls the mixture into a thin rope and twists it around his fingers. Then he plunges his hands into a flour-filled bin and, abracadabra, pulls out a strand composed of hundreds, maybe thousands, of fine threads. Even watching closely, it’s impossible to follow his quick hand motions.

Lam next cuts the strands into short lengths that do indeed look like wispy beards. He tops each beard with a mixture of finely chopped almonds, peanuts, sunflower seeds, sesame seeds and coconut, folds it into a neat roll and packs it in a small cardboard box. Five more rolls and the box is ready to sell for $2.

The sign on Lam’s cart tells the history of the candy. The first to taste it was a Ching dynasty emperor, to whom it was presented after a sumptuous banquet. The sweet continued to be an imperial favorite, and Lam’s ancestors helped to provide it. Lam’s father left Beijing after the Communist takeover and resettled in Hong Kong, where he opened a shop. The shop is still there, run by another son.

Lam, who left Hong Kong 15 years ago, deviates slightly from the classic formula. Inspired by a customer request, he now adds sunflower seeds to the filling--a combination the emperor never tasted.

On weekends, long lines form as Chinese customers place their orders. The fragile sweet should be eaten soon after purchase or refrigerated. If it stands at room temperature overnight, the strands will clump together in a sticky mass. Take a bite, and you become as flour-dusted as the candy. The flour, which Lam cooks gently in a wok before using, makes the mixture easy to handle.

Lam says he draws only a modest income from the sales of the candy. (His wife, Ling Kai Tang, sells it at the 99 Ranch Market in Rowland Heights.) No doubt his profits have increased during the Chinese New Year celebration, which culminates in a Chinatown parade Saturday.

* Lam and his dragon-decorated cart will be at Bamboo Plaza, 988 N. Hill St., tomorrow through Sunday from noon to about 4:30 p.m.