Our fascination with the moon goes way back in history. But it’s our preoccupation with a certain Mid-Autumn Festival delicacy that truly takes the proverbial cake.

It seems only natural to refer to the mooncake as a traditional staple, but today’s playful vareties are anything but conventional. These traditional Chinese baked delights now come in a dizzying array from French-inspired (in particular those from TWG Tea) to fruit and cream-filled desserts. Apparently, the cake only needs to look the part — and I don’t mean round.

Granted, the non-traditional snow skin variety has earned its place in this enduring custom: It debuted more than 20 years ago in a bakery in Hong Kong. But it too has come a long way since the bakery’s gelatinous, mochi-like “skin” around a sweetened mung bean filling.

Suffice it to say, imaginative alternatives have become an expected novelty. There might even be “competition” among spirits- and wine-infused mooncakes, with a few stalwart kitchens vying for the best champagne and the best lychee martini truffle snow skin mooncakes. (I am surprised, though, the Raffles Hotel didn’t come up with this year’s Irish coffee and chocolate mooncake sooner.)

We could argue that success is not just about feeding off a trend and that timing is everything. Still, finding new ways to celebrate the classics is a sure-fire way to connect with more consumers. It’s easy to appreciate the Regent Singapore’s snow skin Manhattan, a decadent melding of smoky Johnny Drum bourbon paired with Tuscan chocolate from artisan manufacturers Amedei, laced with maple syrup and Luxardo maraschino cherries. Or take delight in one with a whisky-flavoured white chocolate truffle at the heart of a smooth white lotus paste filling from Bakerzin’s new Bliss collection.

Who said you can’t have your cocktail and eat it too, right?

Others, though, may have gone too far. Remember Peony Jade’s egg-custard-filled Angry Birds mooncakes?

But the truth is there’s always a chef willing to venture beyond the garden variety. Making a comeback is the Bum Mooncake Collection from Hong Kong’s Goods Of Desire. Its traditional filling of lotus seed paste and salted duck egg yolk might be seen as an attempt to keep things tasteful. But it’s hard to get past the cake’s lewd perspective — shaped like a plump derriere — or names like Full Monty, Mind The Gap, Hot Pants and — wait for it — Spread My Cheeks! How’s that for a full moon party?

A more discriminating Western spin is an aptly named Full Moon cake from The Ritz-Carlton. It’s also the most literal visual representation of its muse and features none of the traditional mooncake ingredients. Instead, it’s a combination of almond sponge cake accented with hazelnuts and chocolate crisps, layered with vanilla caramel spiked with Frangelico hazelnut liqueur, and encased in silver-dusted marzipan.

Still, I prefer clever adaptations that embrace the mooncake’s defining sweet-salty combination. So kudos to Chef Pang Kok Keong of Antoinette for the Macaron Lunar, with its salted egg yolk and low-sugar lotus seed paste sandwiched between moon-marked macaron shells. And to Flor Patisserie for its Mangetsu-chan (“full moon” in Japanese), essentially salted duck egg yolk baked in almond cake topped with a crisp sugary crown.

It’s perfect with a scoop of homemade salted egg yolk ice cream from Tom’s Palette, don’t you think? And no, that’s not a mooncake.