Post 61: Taipei - I Have Returned / 台北我回來了 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北: 大安區)

The last time I visited Taipei was just a little over two years ago.  In the time that has passed, it appears that I have lost my Taiwanese aura.  Pedestrians used to asked me for directions, but now they ask me how long it's been since I moved to America.  Uh...

I didn't want to feel like a foreigner in the city that used to feel like a second home to me, so I headed straight for my favorite beef noodle soup stall in Taipei... to eat and be amongst the locals... and to somehow find my Taiwanese mojo.  Along the way to the noodle stall, I noticed that the potsticker shop that I used to frequent had since been closed... but no worries, Old Chao's Noodles (老趙刀切麵) was right where I had last seen it.

Everything was just as I had remembered.  There was the assembly line of noodle production... meat sauce and sliced cucumbers for zhajiang noodles (炸醬麵), diced green onions, roasted beef tendon, cuts of braised beef, and a boiling vat of beef broth... all in steel containers on the counter.  And the makeshift condiment station had the pickled mustard greens and extra green onions for those who need it... in same location as before. 

Old Chao and Chao Jr. stood at the stall.  Mr. Chao, wearing bright blue board shorts, was stirring the boiling pot of noodles.  Young Mr. Chao silently took orders just as his father used to.  A nod of his head and a stare in my direction was his way of asking me what I want to order.  He spoke only to clarify whether the noodles will be eaten here or taken to-go. 

And that's when I noticed the one aspect that has changed since the last time I visited.  The price.  A bowl of beef noodle soup used to be just 40 Taiwan dollars, which was just a little over one US dollar back then.  That same bowl of noodle soup is now 100 Taiwan dollars, which is a little over three US dollars.  I was surprised when I handed Mr. Chao a 100 NT note, and I didn't get any change back.  He looked back at me, and his silence asked, "What are you waiting for?"

Nothing, I guess. 

If you hadn't gotten the picture from before, let me repaint the picture.  This is a serious beef noodle soup stall.  The noodle bowls are washed on the curb between the stand and the street, and needless to say, the bowls aren't exactly towel dried.  Never mind the potential hepatitis infection.  Taste takes precedence here... not cleanliness.  Around the stall there are two prop-up tables with stools scattered around them.  Office workers in dress shirts, delivery boys with bike helmets, and complete strangers share the communal tables... and eat in silence.  One in every ten customers is a woman.  But the woman usually loses her patience and leaves for another stall with a shorter line.  

I picked up my glorious bowl of identity crisis medication, and I plopped myself down on the metal stool barely supported my oversized American dexterior.  In the 90 degree humid heat of Taipei, I devoured each strand of noodle one of bite at a time.  A bead of sweat dripped down my forehead with each strand of noodle consumed... and with each strand of noodle consumed I felt increasingly reacquainted with the land of my parents' birth. 

Comforted with this feeling, I gazed upon the hustle and bustle of the noodle stall.  Mama Chao appears from nowhere and begins bussing the twin tables, with chili oil still dripping from a previous customer's used chopsticks.  Young Chao, who looks like he's in his thirties, helps his father pour freshly brewed beef broth from a large kettle into an even larger vat... all while smoking a cigarette and talking on his cell phone.  Then he tends to customers who want a second helping of beef soup... free for those who still have noodles left in their bowls.  By the way... the large vat of beef soup? Yeah, it could totally swallow Mr. Chao alive.

The waft of brewing, beef broth drifts my way and cuts through not only the thick humidity but the exhaust from otobai that speed past the noodle stall as well.  Deep breath.  Ahhh... the smell... the smell of freshly sheared noodles sinking into boiling water.  Ahhh... here in Taipei, food reigns over weather and pollution.The last time I wrote about a piping hot bowl of beef noodle soup, it was perfect for a rainy, winter day.  Ironically, I was enjoying this same steaming bowl of beef noodle soup in the hot summer heat... but it was just as exhilarating as ever.  The true exhilaration, though, was the feeling that I could declare to the city, "Taipei, I have returned."

Until the next bowl of beef noodle soup, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Approximate address:
台北市 大安區/ Taipei City, Da An District
信義路 4段 60之56 號/ Xin Yi Road, Section 4, No. 60-56

How I get there:
MRT: Da An Station (捷運大安站)
exit station; walk two blocks east towards Taipei 101
make a right at Da An Road, Section 2 (大安路 2段)
pass the stall for hand made egg rolls
do not pass the stall with fresh fruit and shaved ice

ML - 20110908

Post 56: Islamic Chinese for Uncle Ma (OC: Anaheim)

When I mentioned that there was Muslim Chinese people and hence, Muslim Chinese food, many of my co-workers responded that they never knew such people or cuisine existed.  So I decided to do a little research by browsing online and asking various family members about this unique group of individuals that happen to make delicious noodles and flatbread.

The Muslim Chinese are descendants of Arab and Persian Silk Road travelers.  Athough they have intermarried into the local Han Chinese population through many generations, they retain their religious beliefs such as the consumption of Halal meat and the restriction of pork from their diet.  Chinese Muslims are considered Hui people, which are one of the 50+ officially recognized ethnic minorities in China.  There is also a sizable ethnic Hui population in Taiwan as well.  In China, a large portion of Hui or Muslim Chinese are surnamed Ma (馬), meaning horse.  However, the root of the last name Ma supposedly originated from the Muslim name Muhammad.  It's no wonder that so many of the Islamic Chinese restaurants in Southern California are named Ma.

I dropped by Mas' Islamic Chinese Restaurant to grab some Muslim Chinese food, specifically the beef noodles and the sesame flatbread as a way to remember my Uncle Joe.  My Uncle Joe happens to be surnamed Ma and also happens to have parents who are Hui Chinese.  In fact, they even have a Koran that has been translated into Chinese characters.  But that all might just be coincidental...

Thin sesame flatbread (芝麻大薄餅)

listed on the menu as thin sesame bread with green onion

The sesame flatbread is what I came here for.  And let me warn you... the flatbread is no joke.  It's a platter of sixteen slices of sesame sweetness that will make your eyes open wide and your jaw drop completely open.  It's larger than an XL pizza pie, and it's something that even a family of four will have trouble finishing due to its sheer size.  The flatbread has a texture that is a cross between the firmness of a leftover French baguette and a spongey Ethiopian injera.  The look of it is also a combination of sorts... it reminds me of the delicate nature of an Indian naan but with the girth of a rustic Australian damper (bush bread).  When a co-worker took his first bite of this bread, he exclaimed, "it tastes like sesame."  No kidding.  There seems to be more sesame on this plane of bread than there are grains of sand on the beach.  But it's the sesame and the chopped green onions inside that form the base for flavor.  And it's the bread itself that forms an awesome foundation for whatever sauce or soup it gets eaten with.  Hint: it tastes great with the next item we ordered.



Green onion, ginger, and garlic stir-fried lamb (蔥爆羊肉)
listed on the menu simply as lamb with green onions

The absence of pork from the Islamic diet leaves a gaping void for a Muslim Chinese restaurant to fill.  And although Mas' seems to have filled that void with fish and seafood, it's lamb that seems to be the underacknowledged champion protein.  Each of the lamb dishes on the menu has been prepared with strong and flavorful ingredients (pickled cabbage, Chinese style barbeque sauce, chili peppers, etc.) to minimize the gamey taste that lamb naturally has.  The dish that we ordered was no different.  Upon first whiff the gamey taste dominates all other smells.  But one bite into the lamb, and the pungent garlic, spicy ginger, and hearty green onion immediately knock out that gamey flavor.  It's almost like Taiwanese stinky tofu... the smell is horrible, but one bite and you would think someone took Febreeze to the air.  Well... okay, maybe not so much.

Beef stir-fried with hand-sheared chow mein (牛肉炒刀削麵)

listed on the menu as beef dough sliced chow mein

Noodles! Oh, noodles and pasta are my weakness... especially freshly prepared noodles.  This "dough sliced" chow mein refers to the way that the noodle is prepared.  Rather than making hand-pulled noodles (think ramen or spaghetti), the chef takes a blade to a big ball of fresh dough and shears the noodles off one ribbon at a time (think machete).  For a less violent image, think about that Tillamook commercial that shows the block of sharp cheddar getting sliced one perfect perpendicular plane at a time.  But think a lot faster... and less perpendicular... and also imagen a vat of boiling water at the other end of the figurative machete plank.  After a quick boil and an even quicker stir-fry with bountiful slices of beef, bean sprouts, green onion stalks and scrambled egg, the result is a chewier, more elastic version of the typical Cantonese beef chow fun.

Beware though, there was a significant layer of leftover oil on my plate.  If you are an avid gym-goer, then by all means, help yourself to another slice of flatbread to swivel around and soak up the fatty juices leftover by the lamb.  But if it's tough for you to hit the gym (if you have absolutely no discipline like me), then maybe taking a swig of that hot tea (to wash away the oil) is a better idea.

I have yet to learn more about the Muslim Chinese dishes or even about the people and their history, but sesame flatbread is a good start to further exploration.  I hope future culinary curiousity reveals more surprises about a people or world culture previously unknown to you.  To new discoveries and to my Uncle Joe... until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20110725