Walk into any Chinese household during the Lunar New Year and you’ll see it. It’s usually red. It’s almost always round or octagonal. It’s the Ba Bao He—the "Tray of Togetherness."
Inside? A chaotic, sugary explosion of Chinese New Year candies that range from "strangely addictive" to "how do people actually eat this?" Honestly, if you grew up in a diaspora community or in the heart of Shanghai, these sweets aren't just snacks. They are symbols. They are basically edible prayers for a better year. People spend a fortune on the good stuff because nobody wants to start the Year of the Snake or the Year of the Horse with cheap, tasteless luck.
The Weird Logic of the Candy Tray
The tray isn’t just for guests. It’s a roadmap for the coming twelve months. You’ve got eight compartments usually, because eight is the number for wealth (ba / fa). If you see a tray with six, that’s fine too—six represents "smoothness" or things going your way.
But let's talk about the actual contents.
Most people reach for the White Rabbit Creamy Candy first. It’s the undisputed king. It’s that iconic white chew wrapped in edible rice paper. Did you know Richard Nixon was actually gifted these during his 1972 visit to China? It’s true. Premier Zhou Enlai gave them to the American delegation, and they’ve been a diplomatic and cultural powerhouse ever since. If you don't have White Rabbit in your tray, are you even celebrating? Probably not.
The Power of Candied Fruits (Zhuo Guo)
Beyond the branded stuff, you have the traditional candied items. These are the "old school" sweets that kids usually ignore until the chocolate runs out. But for the elders, these are the real deal.
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- Candied Coconut Strips: These long, white ribbons represent longevity and the "togetherness" of the family. They’re sweet, fibrous, and kinda stuck in your teeth for an hour.
- Candied Lotus Seed: If you want a lot of children, this is what you eat. "Lotus seed" in Cantonese sounds like "bringing a son." It’s a bit literal, but traditions usually are.
- Winter Melon: This represents growth and a good beginning and end to the year. It’s basically a sugar-soaked vegetable, which sounds weird but tastes like pure nostalgia.
- Kumquats: These are gold. Literally. The word for kumquat sounds like the word for gold, so eating these is like depositing money into your spiritual bank account.
Why Branding Matters in Chinese New Year Candies
In 2026, the market for Chinese New Year candies has shifted. While the traditional bulk-bin candies still exist, there’s a massive surge in high-end, "heirloom" sweets. Brands like Hsu Fu Chi (now majority-owned by Nestlé) have dominated the market for decades by perfecting the crispy peanut candy.
Peanut candy is essential. Why? Because peanuts symbolize longevity. They’re called "flower seeds" (hua sheng) and they suggest a long, prosperous life. Hsu Fu Chi’s version is crunchy, not too sweet, and wrapped in that distinctive red and gold foil that practically screams "holiday."
Then there’s the Ferrero Rocher phenomenon. It isn't Chinese. It’s Italian. But look at any supermarket display in Hong Kong or Singapore. It is a wall of gold. The gold foil makes them look like ancient Chinese gold ingots (yuanbao). It’s the perfect example of a Western brand leaning into Eastern symbolism so hard that it becomes a cultural staple.
The Health Shift: Less Sugar, More Symbolism?
There’s a bit of a conflict happening lately. People are becoming way more health-conscious. A study published in the Journal of Ethnic Foods notes that traditional lunar festival snacks are notoriously high in glycemic index.
Because of this, you’re seeing a rise in "sugar-free" or "low-carb" Chinese New Year candies. Is a sugar-free White Rabbit still a White Rabbit? Some would say no. But for the younger generation in places like Taiwan and Vancouver, they’d rather have the symbolism without the insulin spike. They’re swapping out heavy syrups for freeze-dried fruits or nuts coated in dark chocolate. It’s a different vibe, but the intent—the nian wei or "New Year taste"—stays the same.
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What Most People Get Wrong About the Sweets
One major misconception is that you just buy whatever candy you like.
Actually, the colors matter immensely. You’ll notice a distinct lack of blue or black packaging in a traditional tray. Why? Those are colors associated with mourning. You want reds, golds, and bright yellows. If you’re gifting a box of Chinese New Year candies, and the box is plain white, you’re basically wishing the recipient a very stylish funeral. Don't do that. Stick to the loud, gaudy reds.
Also, the "sweetness" itself is the point. The phrase tian tian mi mi means "sweet as honey." By eating these candies, you are literally sweetening your life so that your words and experiences in the coming year are pleasant. It’s a psychological reset.
The Red Envelope Connection
Sometimes, candies aren't just for eating—they’re for "paying" your way. When kids go to visit their relatives to get hongbao (red envelopes), they are often offered the candy tray first. It’s a social lubricant. You take a piece of candy, you say something auspicious like "Gong Xi Fa Cai," and then you get the money. It’s a fair trade.
Actionable Tips for Building Your Own Tray
If you’re setting this up for the first time, don’t just dump a bag of Snickers into a bowl. That’s amateur hour.
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1. Mix Your Textures. You need something crunchy (peanuts), something chewy (White Rabbit), and something soft (candied melon). This represents the variety of experiences you'll have in the new year.
2. Follow the Rule of Eight. Try to find an eight-compartment container. If you can’t find one, use a round plate to symbolize "oneness" and "perfection."
3. Don't Forget the Seeds. Roasted watermelon seeds or pumpkin seeds are technically part of the "candy" spread. Cracking the seeds with your teeth is called kua gua zi. The sound is said to mimic the sound of coins clinking together. More noise, more money.
4. Keep it Full. An empty tray is bad luck. It signals a year of lack. Even if you aren't eating them, keep that tray topped up until the 15th day of the New Year (the Lantern Festival).
Where to Buy the Real Stuff
If you aren't lucky enough to have a local Chinatown, look for reputable online Asian grocers like Weee! or 99 Ranch Market. Look specifically for brands like Garden (from Hong Kong) for their wafers or Wang Lao Ji for herbal-infused lozenges. Avoid the generic "party mix" bags found in big-box retailers; they usually lack the specific symbolic items that make the tray meaningful.
The Cultural Weight of a Single Piece of Ginger
Sometimes, you’ll find candied ginger in the tray. It’s spicy. It’s sharp. It represents the "bitter" parts of life that lead to a sweet end.
That’s the beauty of Chinese New Year candies. It isn't just a sugar rush. It’s a sensory representation of a philosophy that says life is a mix of flavors, but we always hope the sweet ones come out on top. When you share a piece of candy with a guest, you’re sharing that hope. It’s a small gesture, but in a world that’s increasingly digital and disconnected, sitting around a red tray and peeling a sticky piece of rice paper off a milk candy feels pretty grounded.
Your Next Steps for a Lucky Year
- Audit your colors: Check your candy stash. If it's not red or gold, supplement it with some festive ribbons or red-wrapped chocolates.
- Identify the "King": Make sure you have at least one "anchor" candy like White Rabbit or Ferrero Rocher that everyone recognizes.
- Refresh the tray daily: During the first 15 days of the Lunar New Year, never let the tray sit half-empty. It’s a visual representation of your abundance.
- Learn the phrases: When you offer a specific candy, learn its meaning. Offering a lotus seed? Mention it's for family harmony. Offering a peanut? Mention long life. It turns a snack into a blessing.