They are best eaten hot off the stove so I always asked, and patiently waited, for fresh ones and she always obliged. On slow days, she would have a few waxy bags of egg cakes already filled. Weekdays the wait would be nil or only 1-2 people. She had everything down to timing and order. I remember her easing the cakes out of the mold with a fork onto a round and scratched up stainless steel pan and how she would jab at the eggettes with steel tongs to separate them and place them into wax-paper bags. She would brush each egg cake mold with oil, pour batter onto one mold, put the matching mold over the batter-filled one and quickly flip the pair so that the batter would fill the other mold and start expanding into perfect little round morsels. The egg waffle batter was a glorious golden color and she kept large jugs of it by her feet. And the batter contained eggs – hence why they are called egg waffles. Her egg cake mold was a simple metal contraption shaped like two identical tennis rackets and functioned like a square waffle maker but the indentations were egg shaped. Here little stall barely fit one person but on busy weekends she would squeeze in a helper to bag and man the extra burners. On weekends, the line would snake around the corner and the wait could be 10-20 minutes or longer. Her stall became so popular over the years that there were often more tourists than regulars waiting in line at this “hidden gem”, clutching their cameras and tour books. After class, mom or dad would walk me over to Mosco Street, where Cecilia Tam (aka the Egg Cake Lady) labored in a tiny red corner stall, to buy a bag or two of her legendary Chinese egg puffs (aka eggettes) or 鷄蛋仔 – “gai daan jai” in Cantonese. I’ve been reminiscing about my childhood in New York’s Chinatown where I attended Chinese school every weekend. Hong Kong Egg Cakes (Gai Daan Jai) – or Egg Waffles

Bubble waffle calories