Post 72.1: Taipei - Wrapping Up Two Weeks in Taiwan, Part One

I ate so much during my two weeks in Taipei that I could write one post about each meal per week for an entire year, and I wouldn't even be finished.  But since there's a huge backlog of meals from this year that need major attention, it's time for a Cliff's Notes version of my Taipei trip.  Here is one picture that was the most memorable part of each day of my two weeks in Taiwan.

September 1: Anxious to board
Sporting my enthusiasm for the trip by way of button at LAX.

September 2: A more than welcome first meal
After a total of 24 hours of traveling (front door to front door, including a 6 hour layover at Incheon Airport), I was desperate for any meal outside of an airplane or airport.  We stopped by a local place (金春發牛肉店) for their specialty beef dishes.  The curry chow mein (炒咖哩牛肉麵) and this bone marrow dish (炒龍骨髓) stir-fried with tomatoes, garlic, chili and Taiwanese BBQ sauce really hit the spot.

September 3: A cup of home
I discovered many Western style coffee shops serving American breakfasts after waking up in our newly relocated family home of Tamsui.  The cafe downstairs is owned by a Taiwanese-Australian, and it serves eggs, toast, and lattes.  Heinz and Tabasco, labels of American authenticity are self-serve, a friendly reminder of home.

September 4: Pineapple cake by the box
Overly excited at the thought of pineapple cake, I immediately bought two boxes of 10 each upon seeing the organic variety displayed in a local bakery in Yonghe District.  Pineapple cake or shortbread, one of Taiwan's most famous pastries, must be consumed immediately due to the lack of preservatives.  I had forgotten that I had two weeks left before returning stateside.  Consequently, I ate one pineapple cake per day til the day of departure... then I bought a few more boxes to take home.

September 5: Star sighting
A fellow Triton invited us to CTV (中視) for a taping of One Million Star (超級星光大道), Taiwan's version of American Idol.  The majority of the audience was middle-aged housewives who squealed like school girls at the sighting of Aska Yang (楊宗緯).  If seeing Aska weren't enough, a connection to the executive level of CTV led us to meet David Tao (陶喆) who happened to be a guest judge on the show.

September 6: Student union

I met up with Diana at Insomnia (睡不著), a dimly lit café filled with local college students chatting about the campus gossip and studying for exams.  Diana and I reacquainted ourselves with simple phrases in Mandarin such as 7-Up (七喜), long removed from our memory due to the lack of language practice in America.

September 7: Taiwanese live to eat
During a visit to Sit Fun for traditional Taiwanese food, my uncle pointed out some of the local sayings posted up on the restaurant's walls.  This phrase, uttered in the local Taiwanese tongue, says that eating trumps even the emperor.

September 8: A bowl of Taiwan's national dish
Almost a week into my trip, I finally scored some beef noodle soup from Old Chao.  Sweating from the humidity, the heat, and the temperature of the piping hot soup makes for an exhilarating eating experience.

September 9: I'm eating... don't bother me
Anna stealthily takes a shot of me scarfing down some noodles from my favorite hole-in-the-wall while my aunt peers over from her side of the table.  Spicy stinky tofu gets heated up by the fire under the steel hot pot.  Noodles and stinky tofu... just another day in Taipei.

September 10: Merciful sub-tropic summer weather
Summer in Taiwan is a force to be reckoned with, but one this sunny Saturday afternoon in Taipei, the sky revealed some beautiful blue hues to display as a backdrop at Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall.


September 11: Mid-Autumn Festival
This holiday means different things to different people.  For some, it might mean a day to eat mooncakes to commemorate the overthrow of the Mongol rule in the Yuan Dynasty.  For others, it might simply mean an outdoor barbecue in the summer night.  For my family, it means eating Japanese food... no clue why... we've eaten sushi and sashimi on this holiday for years now.  Not to break from tradition, my aunt and I dined at a Japanese restaurant (川賀屋日本料理) in Tamsui District.  While there I was able to capture the celebration in the streets outside the restaurant.

September 12: Sausage and beer, Taiwan style
What's better than grilled Taiwanese sausage? Grilled Taiwanese sausage wrapped with a sticky rice bun! We call this delightful delicacy small sausage wrapped with big sausage (大腸包小腸).  Throw in an ice cold Taiwan beer... and I'll be able to tackle on any crowd and navigate the mini mazes at Shilin Night Market (士林夜市).

September 13: Riding along the Tamsui River... on a bike
Having finally mastered how to bike ride in the recent years, namely from a biking adventure around Stanley Park in Vancouver, Rina urged me to take another biking tour... this time along the Tamsui River in Taipei.  We took the ferry across away from the city to the Bali District (八里區) side of the river and rented bikes for just 100 NTD (a little more than 3 USD) for unlimited usage.  Low tide, fishermen taking respite, an ah gong practicing some tai chi... there was something just so tranquil and peaceful on this side of the river.  This is something I must do again.

September 14: Uni fusion
A visit to Taipei or Tokyo requires a trip to indulge in exotic Japanese fusion pastas from Bellini.  Thanks Nicholas and Tiffany for joining me in the cod roe spaghetti with yuzu (和風柚子明太子麵), calamari and squid ink linguine (茄丁墨魚汁扁平麵), and this sea urchin cream linguine with king crab meat and mushrooms (北海道蟹肉海膽醬扁平麵).  Oh, and don't forget about the two pizzas, appetizer, dessert, and bottle of red... a great way to wrap up two weeks of fooding in Taipei.  Good job, guys.

September 15: Nanjing Road nightscape
Even at midnight the streets of Taipei bustle with rapid movement from mopeds, taxis, buses and pedestrians.  While standing on a pedestrian walkway over Nanjing Road on the final night of my trip in Taiwan, I wondered where everyone needed to go in such a hurry.  This city definitely inspires you to go, go, go!

September 16: A contrast to city life
From bustling Taipei proper to Tamsui District in New Taipei, anyone can distinguish downtown city life from what is arguably one of the calmer, more serene suburban areas of the city.  An hour outside of Taipei City, you can hear the song of the cicada louder than the roar of the moped motor.  There is fresh air, blue sky, and a street to safely jaywalk across.

There are bound to be more trips to Taipei in the near future... so far I've counted six visits in six years.  Two weeks is not nearly enough to capture the essence that is Taiwan let alone experience the magnificence that is the city of Taipei.  From the (second) tallest building in the world to the most humblest of people, the Taiwanese have really contributed to a place worth visiting.  Au revoir for now, Taipei... I'm off to Seoul.  Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

金春發牛肉店 (beef specialty restaurant)

台北市 大同區 / Taipei City, Datong District

天水路 20號 / Tianshui Road, No. 20

Insomnia Café (睡不著)

台北市 大安區 / Taipei City, Da An District

師大路 93巷 13號 / Shida Road, Lane 93, No. 13

Kawaga Ya (川賀屋日本料理)
新北市 淡水區 / New Taipei City, Tamsui District
中山北路 一段 157號 / Zhongshan North Road, Section 1, No. 157
頂好超市對面/ Across from Wellcome supermarket

Bellini Caffé

台北市 中山區/ Taipei City, Jhongshan District

復興北路 288號 / Fuxing North Road, No. 288 

捷運中山國中站 / MRT: Zhongshan Jr. High School Station

ML - 201109XX

Post 71: Taipei - Atkins Impossible (Taipei: Datong District / 台北: 大同區)

When Anna visited Taipei during my trip this summer, she commented that there was bread everywhere in Taipei.  The first time that she said there was bread everywhere, I laughed and didn't say anything in response.  The second time Anna that said it (about an hour later), I passed her observation off as something a first time visitor to Taipei would say.  The next time that Anna mentioned it, she said, "Wow, there really is bread everywhere here," so I actually gave it some thought.  Everywhere I looked there was some sort of bakery... whether traditional or modern, whether truly Taiwanese or influenced by the Japanese or French, whether a brick and mortar store or one of those little shops inside the metro station... Anna was right.  I guess I had never noticed it because bakeries were literally everywhere.  For bread lovers in Taipei, the Atkins diet is simply impossible.

I've decided to post on the moment I realized that Atkins was truly impossible for me.  It was when I was walking around Zhongshan Station, and a window display full of bread caught my eye.  I didn't even look up to check the name of the store.  Knowing that I wanted what I saw (not even hungry at the time), I walked into the shop and picked up a tray and tongs immediately.  It was Ijysheng Bakery (一之軒時尚烘焙) that I had walked into, and this is what I picked up:

Cod roe French bread (明太子法國麵包)

Nothing can keep me from anything that has cod roe... even if there's just a little bit.  Lucky for me, this loaf of French bread has cod roe all over the top and in between the top and bottom crusts.  The cod roe gets toasted after it gets smeared over the bread, which means two things: the cod roe essence is completely baked into the bread, and it can't escape the bread.  This cod roe French bread can't escape from my mouth either.  Cue evil laughter... my aunt sliced it up for me, and it was all gone before she could return from the kitchen.

Shenmu tree bread (神木麵包)

The idea is that the little swirls of this red bean bread represent the inner vascular tissue and outer bark that run through the length of the tree.  What may be water and sugar that typically run through xylem and phloem in a tree is butter cream and red bean in this faux chocolate bread.  With just a sprinkle of powdered sugar on top, shredding the fibers of this fluffy, sweet bread apart is only half the fun of eating it.

High rise cheese toast (高達起士吐司)

A crispy, cheesy crust, a pillowy soft interior, and cubes of heavenly cheese throughout... what more could you want from a mini loaf of cheese bread? I love tearing the slightly burnt crust of cheese off the top first and then picking out the little cubes of cheese lodged in the niches of the bread.  The only thing better than this is a second loaf.

Chocolate popsicle (巧克力冰棒)

I picked this up for one reason only: it looked cool.  I mean, it's bread in the shape of a popsicle, and it even has the popsicle stick holding it all together.  I wasn't the only one who thought it was cool.  Apparently, my little cousin did too because while I was polishing off the cod roe bread, he picked up the chocolate popsicle bread and chomped down on it.  Sadly, I have no idea what it tastes like, but the swirls of chocolate and the crushed peanuts on top sure look tantalizing.

German cheese (德國鹹乳酪)

I'm not sure what exactly constitutes this as German cheese... but if I were to name the pastry, I would simply call it a ham and cheese quiche.  Why? Well, because it's simply a ham and cheese quiche.  It's buttery and crumbly (instead of flaky) on the outside, and it's buttery and creamy on the inside... and it's even better reheated in the oven.

Aside from the fact that I ate everything in sight (including French toast with a fried chicken filet sandwiched in the middle and two grilled Taiwanese sausages from the vendor next door), I would submerge my fork into another one of these Taiwanese-German quiches... and another mini loaf of cheese bread.  Oh, and that cod roe bread too.  Yum.

On a slight tangent, Ijysheng Bakery produced an overly emotional, heart-wrenching melodramatic video about a boy's dreams of his mother's hand-made mochi.  I got a good enough kick out of it to share with everyone.



Some of my favorite bakeries in Taipei include Maison Kayser in the basement floor of Breeze Center (微風廣場) and chain bakery Sun Merry (聖瑪莉).  There's also another bakery inside Sogo that makes an almond and chocolate, double crusted wheel of bread with chocolate hazlenut ganache spread inside (pictured above).  My favorite bakeries in the Los Angeles area include Cuban rooted Porto's Bakery, the French influenced but Japanese owned Frances Bakery in Little Tokyo, Taiwanese chain JJ Bakery, and the ever popular 85°C Bakery, which sprouted from its roots as a coffee house in Taiwan.

My love for bread is too great.  Just last month I scarfed down four small loaves of squid ink garlic cheese bread from 85C with half an hour of purchase... bread addiction, much? Sorry Atkins, you'll never win me over.  Until the next carb crazed moment, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Ijysheng Bakery (一之軒時尚烘焙)

台北市 大同區 / Taipei City, Datong District

南京西路 33號 / Nanjing West Road, No. 33
捷運中山站 2號出口 / MRT: Zhongshan Station, exit no. 2
台北牛乳大王對面 / Directly across Taipei Milk King

ML - 20110906

Post 70: Taipei - Night Owls Congregate at the Porridge Shop (Taipei: Da An District / 台北: 大安區)

While the congee from Hong Kong style dim sum houses are typically served in the morning, the Taiwanese rice porridge with chunks of sweet potatoes are served around the clock.  Both types of rice based soup, though, are used to wake people up.  The Taiwanese porridge works best as a 3 a.m. slap of sobriety and the Hong Kong congee works best as a hangover help at noon the next morning.

"You tried to drink her under the table or something?"

The server glances over at my friend as she brings a pot of piping hot porridge over to the table.  My friend has collapsed on the dining table... whether in complete exhaustion or in complete intoxication, I'm not quite sure... I'm feeling a combination of exhausted and intoxicated myself... attributed to a night of clubbing in Taipei.  Either way, she's about to miss out on some soul warming rice porridge and my trash talking of her inability to conquer the night's liquor.

"No, she tried to drink me under the table," I reply.  "And that," I point to the slumber of hair, makeup, and jewelry that is my friend, "is what happened.  Huo gai."

Huo gai is a term that is tough to translate.  In this instance it might mean that my friend's state of unconsciousness is completely deserved.  In a sense, it's karma... karma for nudging me towards more shots of tequila.  And if huo gai has been served in the Taipei nightlife, it's best to accompany it with a sobering bowl of porridge and plenty of side dishes.

My absolute favorite accompaniment to this bowl of rice soup is super spicy steamed stinky tofu.  It's served in a miniature hot pot with the gas burner still running.  There's nothing like a fragrant tofu in a boiling spicy broth in the middle of a hazy night.  If the spicy broth isn't a natural alarm clock, then I don't know what is.

There are a plethora of side dishes to choose from.  Upon arrival at the porridge shop, there is what seems like a buffet of chafing dishes... from grilled sausage to stir-fried eggplant to spicy cucumber salad to all sorts of crunchy pickles.  In our bumbling and stumbling stupor, we select a recurring theme of egg, vegetable and stewed protein.  Our first round of egg, vegetable and stewed protein includes a pickled radish omelette, garlic sauteed broccoli, and ginger braised calamari.  The omelette, broccoli and calamari all have strong flavors which infuse well into the plain rice porridge. 

Our second round of egg, vegetable and stewed protein ordering produce salted duck eggs, simply sauteed string beans, and three cup chicken.  The salty and dense egg yolk makes for a great crumble over a hot rice porridge.  It may even work better than croutons over salad.  The ginger, garlic, and basil flavored soy and sesame oil from the three cup chicken make for a flavorful gravy over the top of the porridge.  And the green beans complement the steaming stew with a light and refreshing crunch. 

Our second round is also thankfully our last of ordering since everyone has either crashed onto the table or has bickered over the last polyp of broccoli.  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of another friend slap the broccoli out of another one's chopsticks in a not-so-ladylike manner.  And the ratio of intoxicated and those suffering from insomnia versus the sane and sober are dangerously imbalanced.  It's definitely time to go home.

There's nothing that the sweet potato rice porridge can do for us now.  The only thing that can save us now is an efficient taxi driver.  Mai dan so we can hui jia, please.  Until the next night out on the town, let's get S.O.F.A.T.

No Name Congee and Delicatessen (無名子清粥小菜)

台北市 大安區 / Taipei City, Da An District

復興南路 2段 130號 / Fuxing South Road, Section 2, No. 130

ML - 20110910

Post 69: Taipei - Japanese in Taiwan... Unaju (Taipei: Jhongshan District / 台北: 中山區)

Taiwan was colonized by the Japanese prior to the founding of the Republic of China for about 60 years all the way up until the end of World War II.  If you didn't already know, don't worry because you're not alone.  Many Japanese don't even know this since many portions of the war were stricken from history books and excluded from lessons in school.  The point of this post, however, is not to talk about the Japanese colonization of Taiwan, but to point out the many influences they left behind.  It is highly likely that locals and tourists alike will notice the many karaoke bars on every street corner, the orderly queues in the metro stations, the many tatami mats in Taiwanese homes, and the ojisans and obasans who frequent the onsens.  Arguably, one of the heaviest influences of the Japanese on Taiwan, though, was not just the language, culture, or lifestyle but the cuisine.

Even though the Japanese people are mostly gone, the influence of Japanese culinary arts can be seen throughout Taipei in somewhat of a fusion with old Chinese culinary culture.  There are teppanyaki counters in mall food courts that prepare chow mein rather than yakisoba.  There are shabu shabu restaurants that prepare individual sized hot pots with Szechwan style spicy soup base.  There are even lunch spots that fill bento boxes with stir-fried chafing dishes rather than katsu or curry.  These Chinese and Taiwanese infused Japanese cuisines can be found on every main thoroughfare in Taipei, but if you walk into the hidden back alleys, you will find remnants of true Japanese cuisine... untouched by any Chinese adaptation and without any Taiwanese adjustments.

Whenever I'm in Taipei, my aunt takes me to Hizen Ya (肥前屋), an inconspicuous Japanese restaurant that specializes in unaju (鰻重), grilled eel (unagi) over white rice.  It's an authentic Japanese joint hidden down an alleyway behind Zhongshan Road in an area that is frequented by Japanese business travelers.  The store has a barely visible business sign.  And I'm not sure it even says Hizen Ya.  You will know it's the right location because there will be a swarm of people buzzing about in front of the restaurant.  Many of them have paper menus... but many more are simply waiting impatiently for their own box of unaju.

Unaju, by the way, is unagi rice in a box.  Unadon, on the other hand, is unagi rice in a bowl.  It's all about the unaju here.  My aunt tells me that the restaurant's Japanese owner uses local Taiwanese eels, and that the eels are of such high quality that they're even exported to Japan.  It seems like this is common knowledge because there is absolutely no fascination or astonishment on any of the patrons faces here when the food is served.  They all seem like regulars... regulars who know their unagi.  Those who are eating have stoic faces.  They work feverishly through their unaju and barely speak to the company they are with.  Whether small or large, there is a box of eel over rice in front of just about every single person in the restaurant.  Children who haven't yet learned to appreciate the deliciousness that is grilled freshwater eel are ignored by their parents.  Unaju is serious business.  Those who are still ordering methodically check off the items that they fancy... from deep fried oysters to eel wrapped in tamago to grilled skewers.  I do the same... unaju? Check.  Sashimi? Check.  I can never say no to fresh salmon or good yellowtail.

How can a box of grilled fish over rice be so delicious? Well, it's grilled not once but twice... and steamed in between the first and final round of grilling.  It's first grilled to cook the eel, to render the fat, and to get the juices flowing.  It's then steamed to make the flesh of the fish tender and succulent.  And finally, it's grilled once again to crisp and char the outer layer of skin.  The fish is then blanketed across a bed of fluffy, steamed, white rice.  The rice then gets the pleasure of soaking up all the soy infused sweet unagi sauce and all the glorious drippings of fat.

I'm going to throw this unaju post over a literary cliff now and leave you hanging on that image because I'm drooling now... honestly.  Where can I find the same deliciousness of unaju here in the States? Help me out.  Until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Hizen Ya (肥前屋)

台北市 中山區 / Taipei City, Jhongshan District

中山北路 1段 121巷 13之2號 / Zhongshan North Road, Section 1, Lane 121, No. 13-2

ML - 20110915

Post 68: Taipei - Never Too Far from Dessert

No matter where you are, you are never too far from dessert in Taipei.  Around every corner, at every intersection, and down every alley, you can find a plethora of post meal refreshments such as handmade mochi, shaved ice, fresh tropical fruit, milk tea, and ice cream.

One of my favorite sweets is mochi (麻糬).  Although the invention of mochi is usually accredited to the Japanese, the Taiwanese have their own balls of rice cake as well.  Whereas the Japanese mochi is filled with sweet pastes such as red bean paste or peanut butter, the Taiwanese version is often not filled at all.  Taiwanese style mochi is dense the entire way through and is also much smaller in size.  The mini mochi balls are commonly rolled in peanut powder, black sesame seeds, granulated sugar, or a combination of the above.  The flavor factor is on the outside rather than enclosed within the layer of pounded rice.



Mochi can even become a form of entertainment at some dessert shops.  I found this out at Sweet Rice Ball (雙連圓仔湯), where I was served one giant blob of mochi (燒麻糬) plopped within a sandstorm of peanut powder, black sesame seeds, and little bits of sugar crystals.  A few toothpicks were placed alongside the enormous sphere of congealed rice.  My aunt picked up the toothpicks and started puncturing the rice cake.  After she had perforated the rice cake, she separated it into a dozen or so miniature mochi balls and rolled them around in the sweet peanut and sugar mixture.  She did it so quickly that I didn't even get a chance to try it for myself.  But no worries... I saved my energy for chewing the ridiculously elastic and malleable sticky rice balls.  No chocolate, no syrups, no heaviness.  Just naturally and slightly sweet.  It's even more fun to eat because it can be popped into your mouth in just one bite.

Sweet Rice Ball also serves shaved ice, which is one of my favorite chilled desserts.  Shaved ice is one of the most powerful ways to combat Taipei's horrendous heat and humidity.  What I like about the shaved ice at Sweet Rice Ball is that they not only have the traditional shaved ice toppings such as red bean, peanuts, and mochi, but they also have lots of unique toppings that other shaved ice shops don't offer as well such as sweet taro paste, corn, and white wood ear fungus.  I would choose this over artificially flavored, multi-colored snow cones any day.

If traditional or unique shaved ice toppings isn't your thing, count your blessings because Taipei has a wealth of shops that serve mango shaved ice and green tea shaved ice. Literally around the corner from world famous dumpling house Din Tai Fung is a shop that specializes in shaved ice called Smoothie House (思慕昔). What's cool about the shaved ice there is that fruit and condensed milk has been infused directly into the ice.

Every part of the dessert is covered in either fruity mango ice, fragrant Taiwan mango (艾文芒果), or golden yellow mango ice cream, so every bite of shaved ice tastes like a milky avalanche of sweet, tropical mango.  It's not even shaved ice or shaved snow anymore.  It's like a shaved mango bonanza. 

The matcha green tea shaved snow here is just as good.  It is as green as Kermit, which means the flavors of Japanese green tea have been truly conquered every part of the ice.  The hill of green tea ice is covered in a mound of sweet, soft azuki bean, and topped off with a panna cotta that is smooth and supple.  It tastes like an East Asian Christmas party.

If healthy is your thing, then you are in luck.  Taiwan is one of the best places in Asia to get fresh fruit.  With its sub-tropical climate, harvesting tropical fruit such as bananas, guavas, lychees, mangoes, mangosteens, pineapples, and wax apples are no trouble at all.  Fruits from Taiwan are, in a word... beautiful.  The first thing you notice about the guavas at the sidewalk fruit stands is the bright color of the fruit.  It's nothing like the pale pink that we get here in the States or in our cartons of Kern's Nectar.  Its fruitful fertility beckons you over the stand, which is when you smell the utterly fragrant scent of the bananas, mangoes, and pineapples.  Those are smells that literally open your eyes and take your breath away.  It's no wonder that the Taiwanese have one of the highest rates of fruits and vegetables consumption in all of Asia.

If you're like me and hate peeling and cutting fruit, then skip the fruit stands and grocery stores altogether.  Instead, head over to a café that serves afternoon tea.  My favorite place to munch on juicy, succulent fruit is in Tamsui, a district of New Taipei City on the edge of the coast.  Red 3 Café (淡水紅樓咖啡館) is atop a staircase that appears to have a million steps.  But the hike to the top is worth it.  There are ample fruits in the afternoon tea selection, and of course, there is a view overlooking the Tamsui River.  Did I mention the beautiful castle that sits halfway to the top? A reward for your efforts on the brick Stairmaster, no doubt.

Too full from dumplings or beef noodle soup and can't hold down another bite? Well, Taipei offers the best iced beverages around.  There are tea houses everywhere that serve fruit infused tea and milk tea.  You may even see some familiar stores such as Quickly, Ten Ren, and 85C.  If you are craving a Frappuccino, Taipei is abound with three or four-storied Starbucks stores.  Almond milk tea? You got it.  Crash milk with grass jelly? You got it.  Lychee flavored Slurpee from 7-Eleven? Not even a problem.

What you may not know, though, is that Taipei also has plenty of coffee houses.  Taiwan is not a major player in the coffee bean industry, but its climate makes for rich and aromatic coffee beans.  Cama Café is brews its Joe (Chou in Taiwan?) to order.  From first hand experience and according to A Girl Lost in Taipei, you can smell their coffee from way down the street.  Their iced chocolate is also good.  It's not just syrupy sweet... it's packed with chocolatey cocoa punch.  Just enough sweet to seal off your appetite.  Oh, and it's just plain cool that they delivery your coffee on bicycles.

Anywhere you go in Taipei, you will find a dessert that is sweet enough for your palate.  Personally, though, I'd say you can't leave Taiwan without having some fresh fruit and some shaved ice.  Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 201109XX

Taiwan - Din Tai Fung Black Truffle Juicy Pork Dumplings / 鼎泰豐松露小籠包 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北市: 大安區)

Being a food tour guide that specializes in Taiwanese dumplings in Arcadia means that I get to eat the juicy pork dumplings (xiaolongbao / 小籠包) from Din Tai Fung (鼎泰豐) virtually every weekend while on tour.  Guests on tour often ask me if there is anything different between the Din Tai Fung dumpling house in Arcadia and the original Din Tai Fung restaurant in Taipei.  The first thing that I say since my return from Taipei is that the DTF in Taipei is the only store (as of now) with black truffle juicy pork dumplings (松露小籠包).

These black truffle xiaolongbao come five per long, or five dumplings per bamboo steamer.  Each steamer of five delicately wrapped dumplings are 450 NTD, which amounts to roughly 15 USD.  If there are five dumplings per steamer, and each steamer is 15 dollars, then each bite-sized dumpling is just about three American dollars each.  Those are some expensive dumplings.  They had better be worth it.

I can now tell you from personal experience that three dollars per dumpling is worth every bite.  From the moment the server delivers the dainty delights, you know they're special.  The server instructs not to douse these dumplings in the black vinegar that is typically used as a dipping sauce for the xiaolongbao.  Heaven forbid that we use soy sauce on them too.  Instead, the server advises to take a sip of hot tea in order to cleanse the palate.  Wash away any remnant of cucumber or seaweed appetizer that may have lingered behind.  Just one bite, he says... and beware... they're hot!



In this one bite, the subtle flavors of buttery truffle oil permeate through the tender yet firm pork and travel up through your nostrils while hitting every single pleasure sensing nerve within your oral and nasal cavities.  If you go against what the server advises and take just a mere half bite instead, you would know that the little black specks in the dumpling are causing this sensory overload in your mouth.  And you would definitely know that these little black specks are not black pepper.  They are the shaved black truffle pieces, and they are the reason why you are charging this meal to your credit card.

If you are lucky you might spot a large shaving of black truffle within one of the five dumplings.  And it might look like the dumpling is sticking its tongue out at those who have not yet experienced the indulgent taste of steamed black truffle juicy pork dumplings.  It might.

Let's face it though.  Even though the black truffle juicy pork dumplings make you feel like the caviar consuming first class passengers on the Titanic, you can only afford perhaps two steamers of those suckers before you realize you're still going to go home hungry.  Well, if you're here for dumplings, you have to settle on the house specialty of regular juicy pork dumplings.  These come ten per long at a much affordable price, although pricey for Taiwanese standards.  And of course, the regular xiaolongbao can be dipped into the black vinegar.  The vinegar's tangy taste contrasts the dumpling's overall savory flavor to bring out the sweetness for the pork.  And all I can taste inside the dumpling is succulent pork soup.  No buttery truffle? How boring.

In case some readers aren't able to tell, that's a speckle of sarcasm.  The house specialty is an absolutely unparalleled steamed pork dumpling.  However, I will tell you I would have much rather had finished all the regular xiaolongbao before moving onto to the fancy flavors of its truffled cousin.  An anti-climatic meal is slightly disheartening.

But I must give credit to Din Tai Fung for putting this winning addition on the menu.  A product that has been dug up by French pigs and then later infused into fresh Taiwanese pig? Well, that's a somewhat cannibalistic double pork whammy! Did they get this idea from the company mascot, a seemingly happy xiaolongbao that courageously serves up a steamer of ten miniature versions of itself? What will they think of next?

Before that question gets answered, though, do yourself a favor and drop by the original Din Tai Fung store on Xinyi Road in Taipei.  And I would suggest you hurry.  Because oolong-milktea loves his Din Tai Fung, and he loves his truffle.  And oh, he can eat up a storm.  If he gets there before you do, there's a high chance you're going home hungry.  Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Din Tai Fung (鼎泰豐)

台北市大安區信義路二段194號, 永康街口
Taipei City, Da An District, Xinyi Road, Section 2, No. 194

Intersection of Yong Kang St.

ML - 20110908

Post 66: Taipei - Braised Pork Rice

Braised pork rice (Taiwanese: loh bbah bun, Mandarin: lu rou fan / 滷肉飯 or 魯肉飯), also known as stewed pork rice, is a truly marvelous Taiwanese dish.  There's nothing like it.  Chicken and rice may come close, but fatty pork over rice simply can't be beat.  Beef may have some beautiful marbling, but only pork has that half protein, half fat, yin and yang balance that is the perfect complement for a bed of fluffy white rice.  In this sense, pork is quite unique because its fat carries such heavy importance.  And it's this sultry fattiness on the outskirts of the pork belly that makes a wonderful bowl of braised pork rice.  Just think about a tender cut of pork that's stewed in its own rendered, juicy lipidity along with seasonings such as soy sauce, garlic and brown sugar.  One bite of this beautifully braised pork over a bed of steamed rice tastes absolutely sinful.

Any trip to Taiwan requires multiple outings for braised pork rice.  Whether it's from a street vendor, a chain store like Formosa Chang, or a traditional Taiwanese restaurant like Sit Fun, the outings must be made.  And since I went on a trip to Taiwan, it meant that I went out for braised pork rice... multiple times.  I embarked on a trifecta of trips to obtain different versions of this precious braised pork rice... and I found a tantalizing bowl with shreds of bamboo shoots interlaced with pork from a sidewalk stall in Jioufen (九份), another bowl served with pickled ginger from Formosa Chang (鬍鬚張), and a final heart-stopping bowl with extra pork gravy from Sit Fun (喫飯食堂).  Mmm....

Although it's called braised pork rice, the pork is really stewed.  The braising portion of searing the meat and simmering in merely its own juices occurs never really happens.  There are actually three main ingredients which get tossed into the simmering stew... swine, soy, and sugar.  If you ever uncap the pot of swine, soy, and sugar while the pork is cooking, you'd see that the fat still hugs the pork and has barely melted away.  You might even wonder if the fat is soluble at all.  In actuality, little bits of fat from the rims of the pork have dissipated into the sweet soy sauce, and they get reunited with the meat when it gets soaked up within the sinews of protein.  Circle of life, much?

It is rare to find a bowl of braised pork rice in the States with the same essence as one from the motherland.  I recently had a bowl that seemed to come close, but perhaps it was because hunger took over me, or perhaps it was because the waitstaff suggested the loh bbah bun to me in the native Taiwanese tongue.  Whatever the reason, the braised pork rice that I held in my hands was tops at the time.  No bowl of chicken or beef donburi could knock the pig from its place at the top of the throne.  Until I find one that beats it, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20110904+07+12/20111106