Taiwan Day 9: Childhood Memories of Stewed Pork Rice / 懷念三元號圓環老店 (Taipei: Datong District / 台北市: 大同區)

When my aunt finally had some time to hang out, I asked her to bring me somewhere that she and my dad used to eat when they were younger.  She led me to a restaurant that used to occupy a space within the central ring of shops at the intersection of Chongqing North Road (重慶北路), Nanjing West Road (南京西路) and Tianshui Road (天水路).  It has relocated just off the roundabout (圓環) due to the municipal government's mandated renovations, which many of the older generation locals in the area gripe about.  How often have you heard the elders mention that things just aren't the way they used to be?

The location may not be the same, but the flavors of its stewed pork rice (滷肉飯) have remained constant.  The stewed pork rice is old school here.  It is easy to see.  The meat is minced, ground, or chopped into bits and pieces and stewed in a sauce of soy and sugar.  When it is spooned atop the rice, it seeps into any space that it finds.  It is fully incorporated.  The meat is nowhere close to the glossy chunks or gleaming cubes of pork belly that are found in restaurants elsewhere.  The pork used here is lean ground meat.  It is far from greasy, but still... this is a hot mess.  It is saucy; it is soupy.  It is home style.  It is the way my dad, my aunts and uncles ate when they were little.  It is delicious.

It is hard not to imagine the thoughts, goals, and ambitions that ran through my father and his siblings' minds when eating a bowl of this messy, saucy pork rice.  Back then there was silence during meal time for my parents.  Not only was the pork stewing away in the pot, but the burrowed desires of a better life were stewing away in their heads as well.  Even to this day it is not easy for the elder generation of Taiwanese to express or communicate their emotions explicitly.

The only time a hint of their childhood memories come to light is when my dad makes this saucy, sliced garlic pork (蒜泥白肉).  This is another dish that elicits family history whether it is happy or painful.  For me, I only know this dish when cooked in our home kitchen in America, but my dad his siblings know of this dish the way that I experienced it.  The thin cuts of blanched pork are laid out on a platter before being drenched in sweet soy sauce paste, minced garlic, and a mound of freshly shredded ginger.  The raw biting garlic will undoubtedly leave a lasting taste on your tongue for a while... much like the memories of eating at the roundabout shops have left for the Lin family.

If this strangely emo post has not already turned the glories of pork upside down for you, continue reading... there's more! Not everyone is fond of their childhood memories, and not everyone appreciates the lingering garlic flavor on their tongue.  Fortunately, there is a pork spare rib soup (排骨湯) available to cleanse your palate and wash away bad memories.  The deep fried pieces of spare rib sink down deep into the depths of the soup, adding flavor and substance to the mild broth brewed from daikon.  A hearty yet mild flavor, the broth is substantial enough to rinse away any flashbacks of which you are not fond but just subtle enough to remind you that there were no regrets.

Oh, wow, that was a cliff of a conclusion.  Until next time, let's dream of getting S.O.F.A.T.

Read the post on 三元號 by TaiwanWalker in Chinese here.

三元號 (San Yuán Haò)
台北市大同區重慶北路二段11號
No. 11, Chongqing North Rd., Section 2, Datong District, Taipei City 

ML - 20130708

171. Taiwan Day 5: Nostalgic for Oyster Vermicelli / 懷念麻辣蚵仔麵線 (Taipei: Zhongshan District / 台北市: 中山區)

Oyster vermicelli (蚵仔麵線 / Taiwanese: ô-ah mi sua) is one of those quintessentially local Taiwanese dishes that no part of China, other region of Asia, or nation in the world can claim as theirs.  In fact, this is one of those rare dishes that is still ordered by its traditional name in Taiwanese rather than Mandarin.  Mr. Liou took us to a corner shop aptly named Nostalgic (懷念麻辣蚵仔麵線) that serves the traditional oyster vermicelli of Taiwan's olden days as well as the modern spin on it with a mala numbing spiciness.

We all went with the original version, the most authentic variation of this dish.  Thin rice noodles swirl around in the thick chowder like soup.  Bits of soft, stewed intestine swim around amongst the weaves of noodle, and fresh, mini oysters are slid into the piping hot bowl at the final minute right before the forest of cilantro garnishes the top.  Additional condiments such as minced garlic in soy sauce and red chili paste are added as desired.  This bowl, by the way, is served with just a plastic soup spoon... no chopsticks included.  Needless to say, a lot of slurping ensued.

Slurp away, y'all.  Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Nostalgic Oyster Vermicelli (懷念麻辣蚵仔麵線)
台北市中山區中原街117號
No. 117, Zhongyuan St., Zhongshan District, Taipei City

ML - 20130704

169. Taiwan Day 4: My Absolute Favorite Local Spot / 我最喜歡吃台南意麵黑白切 (Taipei: Jhong Jheng District / 台北市: 中正區)

I have written about this place before, a curiously popular eatery that is just bigger than a hole-in-the-wall but still slightly smaller than a restaurant in size.  It is nestled between apartment complexes and a produce store in a residential neighborhood.  It has no English name, but I have previously titled it Black White Slice, which is a careless translation of its name in the local language.  It is a true local spot, an absolute personal favorite... good enough reason to introduce this place to Diana and the Ma brothers, Jordan and Justin... and good enough reason to write about it again.  (See previous post here.)

The sliced goose (鵝肉 / Mandarin: é ròu) is a must here... an absolute must.  The chef poaches it in its own juice, allowing the meat to reabsorb its own natural juices and flavors.  It is cooked just to the point past rare so that the flesh is still tender.  The fat from the skin renders down into the succulent yet lean flesh and makes each slice extra supple, extra glistening, extra delicious.  Pair each bite some freshly sliced ginger, the fragrant basil leaves, or even a dip in the sweet chili sauce for a taste of pure heaven.

The noodles are also a must.  After all, it is in the name of the restaurant, and you can take my word for it.  There are two options, the flatter house egg noodles (意麵 / Mandarin: yì miàn) and its slightly thicker and rounder street stall variation chek-ah noodles (切仔麵 / Taiwanese: chek-ah mi, Mandarin: qie zǎi miàn), both of which are topped off with bean sprouts, sliced leeks, scallions, crispy fried shallots, and a sprinkle of white pepper.  Oh, and the broth? It's made from the poaching liquid of the goose... so sensually good.

When I think about the freshly sliced liver (豬肝 / Mandarin: zhu gan) here, my mouth waters.  It is nothing like any liver you have ever tasted before... the tough, iron tasting, brown and bubbly looking jerky-like substance that used to be eaten only when there wasn't enough money for actual meat.  This is different.  It is fresh and doesn't have any metal taste, and the texture is almost silken like a very fine tofu.  There's tons of fresh ginger to add to the liver if you're still squeamish, but this is nothing to be scared about.

Since the first time I visited this place almost a decade ago, I have always ordered the smoked shark (鯊魚煙 / Taiwanese: soa hee ian, Mandarin: sha yú yan).  The meat itself is soft and mild, very similar to unagi.  Even its smokiness is not as apparent but just a bit more scented than the typical smokiness from lox.  Dip it into the soy sauce paste and wasabi the way you would sashimi, and the natural sweetness of the fish develops.

I prefer my oysters raw in America, but in Taiwan I prefer them deep fried, made into omelettes or par-cooked like this.  These fresh blanched oysters (燙蚵仔 / Taiwanese: thng ô-ah) are perfectly bite-sized and served with sweet chili sauce, ginger and basil... easy to chase down with a swig of Taiwan Beer or a slurp of hot noodles.

We ordered some fresh asparagus tips (蘆筍 / Mandarin: lú sǔn) to balance out our protein heavy meal.  These chilled green vegetables work as a refreshing palate cleanser for all the dishes laden with soy, ginger, garlic, basil, and wasabi. 

Stinky tofu, oh, stinky tofu, how I love you so.  For something that is usually quite malodorous when deep fried, this spicy and steamed variation on the fermented bean curd (麻辣臭豆腐 / Mandarin: má là chòu dòu fǔ) is not as unpleasant.  In fact, the garlic, chili pepper, and peppercorn that it is simmered in makes for an aroma that draws you in and keeps you coming back for more.  The numbing spiciness of the broth requires you to follow it with a spoonful of noodles and soup to wash it away, but soon after the cleanse it beckons you to take another bite... only to have you chase it again with savory goose broth.  Slippery slope, much? I don't mind rolling down this hill...

By the way, this is a beer drinking establishment.  Customers grab the chilled bottles of Taiwan Beer from the self help fridge in the back of the restaurant and pop each one with the opener sitting in a basket on every table.  Every table, whether it's the businessmen who have just escaped their cubicles or the college students procrastinating on research assignments, has at least one bottle of beer.  Ours have four... so far.  All of these small plates or small bites (小吃 / Mandarin: xiǎo chi) paired with the alcohol makes this form of black white slice cuisine (黑白切 / Taiwanese: ouh beh tzeh, Mandarin: hei bái qie) something I look forward to each time I visit Taiwan.  From the looks of it, the Ma brothers, who happen to live just around the corner from here, may be looking forward to another visit as well.  Cheers, y'all.  Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Tainan Noodle Black White Slice (台南意麵黑白切) 
台北市中正區濟南路二段53-8號 
No. 63-8, Jinan Rd., Sec. 2, Jhong Jheng District, Taipei City
MRT: Zhongxiao Xinsheng Station, exit no. 5 / 捷運忠孝新生站, 5號出口

ML - 20130703

159. A Burmese Spread at Daw Yee Myanmar Café (LA-SGV: Monterey Park)

After my first experience with Burmese food at Burma Superstar in San Francisco, I have been intrigued by the food from the country now known as Myanmar.  We visited Daw Yee Myanmar Café to eat more of this unique cuisine that blends Chinese, Indian, Thai, and Lao influences into its own native fare.

A must-order dish that provides a glimpse into traditional Burmese fare is the tea leaf salad.  Diced tomatoes, roasted peanuts, fried lentils, and toasted sesame accompany shredded cabbage, whole chilies, and fermented tea leaves imported directly from the mother country.  Our Burmese server-host-instructor extraordinaire tossed the hodgepodge of ingredients table side until it created a harmonious blend of rainbow colored, texturally titillating, fragrant salad.

One of our favorites was the kima platha, a sort of grilled flatbread in finger food sized pieces folded over ground chicken seasoned with Indian masala.  It is almost like a potsticker, but a more bready, heartier, fuller version of the usual fried dumpling.  The kima platha comes with a dipping sauce, but we used it to soak up all the leftover curry goodness on our plates.

Speaking of curry, the egg curry was a highlight of the night.  Get this... the eggs are hard boiled and deep fried, then added to the mix of tomato and onion sauce.  The colorful curry covers the eggs, making them gleam in the golden pool of glory.  Cut the eggs up and let them fall into that sauce... douse the eggs with more sauce, and you've got a spoonful of bliss.  Whoever thought of this (someone Burmese I presume) was a genius.

There are many more items on the menu that are great to share as well.  We also ordered the mutton curry, which was robust in meaty flavor with a tinge of lemongrass.  The mohinga, Myanmar's national dish, should not be missed.  Rice noodles submerged what is known as a catfish chowder piques an initial interest but results in a complete addiction to the comforting noodle soup.  We are definitely returning for more.

Happy birthday, Ron.  Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Daw Yee Myanmar Café
111 N. Rural Dr.
intersection of Garvey Ave.
Monterey Park, CA 91755
Closed Tuesdays

ML - 20130909