Hometown treats encapsulate within them the flavors of memories, reminding us of a land we haven’t visited for a long time. I open the jar of coconut candies from my mother and my hometown, and immediately breathe in a familiar scent reminiscent of our kitchen back then. I thought to myself: so this is the feeling of yearning people often talk about when referring to home.
To me — and perhaps many other “former children” hailing from Vietnam’s capital of coconut, who grew up under the shade of coconut fronds — coconut candies, or kẹo dừa, are not just a piece of home, but also the life force of a craft village and an icon of Bến Tre Province. Even after decades, that rustic treat is still the same, just as decadent, fragrant, and extremely likely to stick to your teeth, so much so that you’ll remember it forever after trying it once. Only after I delved deeper into this traditional craft, one that once seemed all-too-familiar to me, did I fully grasp how much it contributes to the pride of my hometown.
Kẹo dừa is the symbol of Bến Tre. Photo via Dân Trí.
Across the Rạch Miễu Bridge into the plantation
Kẹo dừa first made an appearance in Vietnamese historical texts at least several centuries ago. In Xiêm La Quốc Lộ Trình Tập Lục (A Chronicle of National Routes in Siam), an excerpt reads: “[In 1810 CE], a delegation assigned by Emperor Gia Long reached Bangkok. The group was divided into two groups, one headed to the palace to pay respect to the passing of the king, bringing with them funeral offerings comprising 100 rolls of Guangzhou silk, 100 rolls of white Tonkin textile, 5 boxes of beeswax, 5 boxes of sugar, 10 boxes of coconut candies, 10 boxes of rock sugar [...]” Therefore, one could surmise that a type of sweet made of coconut has existed in the country since the 18th–19th century.
Nonetheless, to trace the roots of coconut candies as we know today, we have to travel downstream to visit Bến Tre, the province that’s nicknamed “Three islands of green coconuts.” Thanks to the fertile alluvium from four distributaries of the Mekong River — including the Tiền, Ba Lai, Cổ Chiên, and Hàm Luông rivers — the land here is very suitable for the proliferation and spread of coconut via local waterways. For the longest time, this endemic tree has made its way into local culture here, becoming the inspiration for the sweet candy that perfumes our childhoods.
Coconuts are interwoven with life in the delta. Photo via VOV.
According to local stories passed down after generations, kẹo dừa is a Bến Tre delicacy that was created nearly a century ago in 1930 by Nguyễn Thị Ngọc, a woman who lived in Mỏ Cày Township. This was why the confection was first known as kẹo Mỏ Cày (Mỏ Cày candy). The recipe to make this sticky sweet was passed around the region, and over time, it even entered local pop culture in the form of folk songs and poetry. Residents of Bến Tre might have heard these melodies before:
“Bến Tre nước ngọt sông dài / Bến Tre, the land of welcoming waters and long rivers
Nơi chợ Mỏ Cày có kẹo nổi danh / Home of Mỏ Cày Market and its famed candy
Kẹo Mỏ Cày vừa thơm vừa béo / Mỏ Cày candy smells amazing and tastes rich
Gái Mỏ Cày vừa khéo lại vừa ngoan. / Mỏ Cày ladies are both talented and well-mannered.”
Around the 1970s, Nguyễn Thị Vinh founded the Thanh Long coconut candy manufacturing facility, the first of its kind in Bến Tre Township. At first, the Thanh Long company collected local coconuts to make candy using very rudimentary methods and basic equipment. As time went by, the candy became more well-known and profitable, so Vinh upgraded her production with machines to match the increase in demand.
In 1989, Nguyễn Thị Vinh migrated to Australia to be with her family, leaving the coconut candy production to his brother, Sáu Tảo. His management provided the push the family brand needed to become the province’s most well-known kẹo dừa. The business model that the family operated became a blueprint for many other enterprises across the Mekong Delta to follow to get the coconut candy industry to the level it is today.
Munching on coconut candy and sipping hot tea are part of an elegant pastime. Photo via Instagram user @duythanhxk.
From a time-honored taste to brand-new flavors
The coconut candy craft has been around for approximately a hundred years. My grandma used to tell me that even when she was a little girl, she was taught how to make this unctuous treat, the very thing that has grown up alongside generations of Bến Tre inhabitants. Those were the days: whenever Tết was inching closer on the calendar, villagers started reminding one another to pick coconuts, dry firewood, and purchase sugar. Wood-burning stoves started firing day and night and whenever my mom caramelized her kẹo dừa, the irresistible aroma of sugary coconut hovered in the air, making us salivate in anticipation.
Every kid in town couldn’t wait to get their fingers on those rectangular lozenges of coconut candy to fold in paper. We used to compete on who could fold the best candies in the fastest time. Such was the delight of homemade kẹo dừa, not merely a familiar Tết snack, but a tangible proof of our family culture and the talent of Bến Tre women of the time.
Our moms and sisters all knew how to make traditional kẹo dừa. Photo via YouTube channel Hương Vị Đồng Quê.
My mother taught me how to pick the best coconut for candying: it must be dry enough, golden enough, with thick enough meat. This coconut will produce the thickest milk and won’t go rancid easily. To make malt sugar, she chose the best type of sticky rice with fat, uniform grains. The sugar used to flavor the candy is brown sugar, as this hue will produce the unique golden color of the candy when done.
Everybody told me that in the making of kẹo dừa, stirring is the most strenuous task for one’s hand muscles and eyes. It must be done constantly so the sugar doesn’t burn and the color is uniform. Temperature control is equally crucial because candy-making used to be done on firewood stoves, which required experience in fire control and time precision. Once the coconut syrup thickens and darkens, the hot, viscous mixture is spread out on an oiled surface for easy removal. After it’s cooled down, the final task is to slice it into small chunks and wrap the chunks in paper.
Kẹo dừa is hand-cut and hand-shaped. Photo via Instagram user @va.o.ry.
That was the entire process of candy-making from the memories of my youth. Later, I got a chance to learn how big facilities make kẹo dừa too, which involves machines to help with arduous steps like browning the coconut and stirring. Of course, nowadays, many other iterations of kẹo dừa were invented like durian, peanut, pandan, cocoa, strawberry, gấc, etc. The diversification of flavor gives snack eaters new experiences, taking the culinary development of Bến Tre and Vietnam to a higher level.
There are many flavors of coconut candy to choose from today. Photo via VnExpress.
The treat that nourishes the land of the coconut
My grandmother believes that we can only find true-blue authentic kẹo dừa from Bến Tre. It’s the best representation of the coconut fruit, of the creativity of a craft village, and of the meticulousness of the people of the province. One must eat kẹo dừa slowly, so the decadent richness of coconut milk can melt on the tongue.
Mekong inhabitants often reserve an important space on their welcome tray for kẹo dừa before any guest visits. The image of a teapot, a dry coconut, and a small plate of coconut candies is a familiar sight in southern living rooms. Munch on coconut candy and sip hot tea — these are such rustic but inviting rituals.
An old photo showing candy maker Phạm Thị Tỏ, the founder of the Bến Tre coconut candy brand, inside one of the first modern coconut candy plants in the province. Photo via the Bến Tre Coconut Association.
I grew up under the shade of coconut fronds, so much of our lifestyle was intertwined with the coconut, from the roof above to the columns holding our home up to the food we consume. I still remember the many Tết past when I hopped into the kitchen to help my mom create kẹo dừa. We got up when the sun was barely above the horizon to prepare the ingredients. She always made an unbelievable amount of kẹo dừa — at least a few giant pans. She said we must make a lot of tasty candy to give to our relatives and neighbors. Making kẹo dừa with her was how I learned the importance of fostering a bond with my community.
A graphic design project of new packaging for traditional kẹo dừa using pop art. Image via Behance user Lê Hùng.
Protecting coconut trees is no cakewalk. After years away, with every return trip, I notice that my hometown has changed a lot. Prices drop and pests are abundant, so a plethora of farm owners are increasingly frustrated with maintaining the province’s signature plant. Many have switched to new cash crops in hopes of improving their family situation. It goes to show that tales about the coconut don’t always involve nostalgic memories, but also countless concerns.
Still, the people of Bến Tre have never turned their back on coconut, especially in the realm of food. Thanks to the growth of coconut farm tours, this time-honored confection has become a culinary icon of the province, something that anyone who visits can’t help but bring home to give to friends and family. Coconut candy is a shining example of how artisanal products can both instill cultural values and facilitate economic growth, playing a part in improving the livelihood of the people who created them. As long as farmers can afford to keep coconut farms, coconut trees will continue to take root all over the Mekong Delta.
Kẹo dừa is a Bến Tre icon. Photo by Xuân Hương Hồ.
Towering coconut trees and their ample fruits, the Mekong Delta’s hard-working farmers, and the skills of confectioners — every factor plays a part in lifting kẹo dừa up from a humble countryside treat to the region’s delicacy. For me, coconut candy today is no longer just a childhood treat, it’s taken on new meanings as an anchor of wistfulness and appreciation of my hometown’s flavors. It represents my affection for where I was born, an affection that flows within my blood and across generations.
