Aiyu Jelly: My Favorite Summer Food （愛玉）

When I think back to my childhood summers in Taipei, aiyu jelly (愛玉) is one of the things I remember most.

Sometimes my mom took me to the traditional market, where one of the stalls sold aiyu jelly. It sat there in one big block, golden and a little wobbly. My mom would tell the vendor how much she wanted. He would cut off a piece, weigh it, and put it into a plastic bag.

After dinner, my mom would put the aiyu jelly into a big bowl, add ice, squeeze in some lemon juice, and drizzle honey over it. Before serving it into our small bowls, she would cut the block into bite-size pieces with the side of a large spoon. The clinking sound was loud.

The moment my brother and I heard it, we got excited. It meant aiyu jelly was coming!

The aiyu jelly looks like a typical golden-colored gelatin dessert, but it tastes far softer and lighter than Jell-O. It almost melts in your mouth, with no gummy chew.

That sour, sweet, cold combination is still what summer tastes like to me.

I ate aiyu jelly through my childhood without ever wondering what aiyu was and how it was made into jelly. I found those things out much later, long after I had left Taiwan.

Aiyu is a vine that grows in Taiwan’s mountains, climbing up trees and rock walls. The part we eat comes from the tiny seeds inside its fruit. In the past, collecting the fruit meant climbing up after the vines, which was difficult and dangerous work. These days, aiyu is also grown on farms.

A few years ago I started getting DIY kits to make aiyu jelly at home, and it has become something I really enjoy. The process itself is calming, almost therapeutic.

Inside a DIY kit are tiny dried aiyu seeds and a small cotton bag. I put the seeds into the bag and tie it tightly with a string so they don’t fall out during the “washing” process.

Then I measure the water into a large glass bowl or pot, following the instructions on the package. Mineral water works best. I avoid purified or distilled water.

Next comes the fun part.

I hold the bag of seeds under the water and rub it with my hands. This process is called aiyu washing (洗愛玉). As I rub the bag, a gel gradually seeps out through the cloth. The water becomes yellowish and slimy.

I keep rubbing until the bag of seeds no longer feels slimy, which means all the gel has been squeezed out from the seeds.

Then I leave the yellowish, slightly slimy water in the fridge for about 30 minutes, and it turn into jelly.

I serve aiyu jelly the same way my mom did: with ice, lemon juice, and honey. Before eating it, I use the side of my spoon to break it into smaller pieces, making that same loud clinking sound.

My son used to not like it, but in recent years he’s started loving it almost as much as I do. My husband is not a fan, but it’s ok. I don’t mind eating more!

I’ve noticed that aiyu jelly slowly releases water and the block keeps shrinking, so we finish it as soon as possible (usually within a couple of days).

Every time I go back to Taipei I buy dried aiyu seeds to bring them home. I have picked them up on Dihua Street (迪化街) and at PX Mart (全聯).

Now, after living away from Taiwan for so many years, I can make aiyu jelly any time in my own kitchen. It’s not just a summer dessert in our house anymore.