When people pick up a piece of our snowflake crisp, the thing they say most is "oh -- it's not too sweet." That's the one I'm always hoping for. When the sugar stays quiet, you can finally taste the rest of it: the toasted milk powder, the butter, the little tartness of the cranberries, the green-tea bite in the matcha.
Where "not too sweet" comes from
We didn't invent this. In Taiwanese and Chinese snack culture, 不會太甜 (bú huì tài tián -- "not too sweet") is about the nicest thing you can say to whoever made the thing you're eating. It means the sweetness didn't bury everything else. It means they paid attention.
Leo's mom says it about the ones she actually likes -- the 鳳梨酥 from the good bakery, the 雪花酥 someone carried back in a suitcase from a trip. When she says 不會太甜, that's it, that's the bar. That's the one she buys again.
And it comes out of 茶點文化, tea-snack culture, where the snack was never meant to do the work alone -- it sits next to a cup of tea. The oolong or the jasmine brings a little bitterness, the snack brings a gentle sweetness, and the two of them together taste like more than either one on its own. There's even a word for the part I love most: 回甘 (huí gān), "returning sweetness." It's that soft, lingering finish good tea leaves behind -- and a balanced sweet can do it too. The sweetness doesn't hit you up front and vanish. It comes back, quietly, after you've finished the bite.
None of this is exotic where Leo's family is from. It's just how a snack is supposed to behave. A lot of American sweets lead with sugar on purpose, and that's a real thing people love. We're just after a different feeling -- the kind where you taste the ingredients first and the sugar second.
How we build Snowcubes this way
I make every batch by hand here in Queens, and the ratio -- how sweet, how much marshmallow, how much cracker -- is the thing I've fussed over more than anything else. My early batches were too marshmallow-forward. They tasted fine and they didn't taste like much, which is worse than it sounds. I kept buying other people's snowflake crisp to compare, and so often it was sugar with a cracker in it. I wanted ours to taste like what's actually in it -- the butter, the toasted milk powder, the fruit -- with the sweetness underneath, holding it up instead of shouting over it.
Matcha took me the longest. It's bitter on its own, so finding the spot where the sweetness lifts it without flattening it was a few weeks of tasting and re-tasting. Some people love that version; some people are surprised by it. I'm fine with both -- it means we landed somewhere real instead of somewhere safe.
Leo tried one of my early batches and said, "this doesn't taste like candy." I said, "good." He'd grown up on the shrink-wrapped snowflake crisp from the supermarket, and I think that was the first time he noticed how much of it had just been sugar talking.
Why this matters when you're giving it as a gift
Here's the practical part. When a snack isn't cloying, it works for more people in the room -- the friend who waves off dessert and the friend who'd eat the whole box, both. So if you're sending Snowcubes as a Valentine's gift, or for a birthday, or just because, you're not betting on whether the person has a sweet tooth. In 伴手禮 terms -- the little something you bring to someone's home -- "not too sweet" is the safe, generous bet. People finish it, and then they ask where it's from.
FAQ
Does "not too sweet" mean bland?
The opposite, usually -- it means you can taste more. Toast, milkiness, fruit, the green-tea notes, a little salt. When the sugar stops being the loudest thing, everything else gets clearer.
Is this a health thing?
Not really -- it's a taste preference, the way Taiwanese and Chinese snacks have always been made. We're after something balanced and easy to keep eating, not a diet snack.
What should I drink with it?
Tea or coffee is the natural pairing. Oolong if you want something toasty, jasmine if you want something bright. Plain water works too -- it resets your palate so the 回甘 (that returning sweetness) comes through.
不會太甜 -- still the highest compliment in our kitchen, the one that means we got the balance right. Grab a box and tell me if you taste what I mean :)
Thanks,
Nicole
Last updated June 2026. This is a living post — we keep it current as our flavors and ship days change.