Post 65.2: Taipei - Traditional Taiwanese, Part 2 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北: 大安區)

Like black white slice restaurants, the restaurants that serve the most traditional local fare in Taiwan typically don't have menus.  The freshest ingredients are laid out by the front entrance in a refrigerator case or over ice, so when the customers arrive they are able to view the meat and seafood selection for the day.  Ordering is done by selecting what looks the freshest and then letting the chef know how it should be cooked... deep fried, stir fried, blanched, boiled, steamed, or made into soup are popular choices.  After ordering, customers walk in and sit down.

One of my first meals in Taipei was at a traditional Taiwanese restaurant called Sit Fun (喫飯食堂).  Now... there's something to be said here about a restaurant called Sit Fun in Taiwan.  What doesn't make sense is that "sit fun" sounds like a translation for eating (食飯) in Cantonese, which is not typically spoken in Taiwan.  What does make sense, though, is that to sit down and to have fun is what eating is all about! Am I right, or am I right? 

Here are some Taiwanese dishes from Sit Fun that we had.  They are cooked in the simple style of traditional Taiwanese cuisine.

Braised pork rice (魯肉飯)
Cubes of fatty pork are braised and rendered down until the juicy fat almost melts in your mouth.  Topped over steamed white rice, this bowl of pork and rice is as simple and as tasty as it gets.  Although it's one of the best rice items at Sit Fun, what this restaurant specializes in isn't braised pork over rice but actually just pork oil over rice (豬油拌飯).  Lard, you say? Let's just call it pork-infused oil.  Two words... disgustingly delicious.

Appetizer platter (拼盤)
Usually the first dish to arrive, the Taiwanese appetizer platter almost always includes the following items: fresh sashimi, tender bamboo shoots, and crisp asparagus.  The sashimi for on this plate consisted of salmon, yellowtail, and whitefish... but why sashimi? Doesn't that seem more Japanese than Taiwanese or Chinese? Actually Taiwan was colonized under Japanese imperial rule for over 60 years, so it can be said that the sashimi at the start of the meal represents the large Japanese influence in Taiwanese cultural and culinary history.

Bamboo and asparagus are typical favorites for Taiwanese.  And as always, those two items have a light layer of Japanese style mayonnaise for a sweet contrast.  Also served on the platter are freshly cut pumpkin as well as baby octopus, both of which are the fresh picks of the day.

To truly make this a pu pu platter experience, the appetizer dish is served with toothpicks.  It's the closest to finger food that we're going to get without going barbaric.

Salt water chicken (鹽水雞)
No, the chicken was not raised in salt water with the fish of the ocean.  Rather, it was poached in salt water and served with a side of garlic soy.  Salty much? Not so.  The majority of the salt doesn't get far past the skin, but the portion that does bypass the skin serves to tenderize the chicken while it's cooking.  The method of cooking is so effortless that it seems almost primitive, but the true sign of tradition and authenticity.

Tempura shrimp (炸蝦球)
Who doesn't love fried shrimp? Silence.  Okay, who doesn't love spicy mayo? Continued silence.  Now... who doesn't love fried shrimp with spicy mayo drizzled all over the top? Cheers.  I think you get the picture.

Barbecue pork (台式叉燒肉)

What we typically know as Cantonese style BBQ pork is chasiu pork, that crimson colored sweet pork perhaps akin to the Mexican al pastor.  Well, here lands the Taiwanese version... a less red, less sweet, more moist and more thinly sliced version that is served with both pickled ginger and honey vinegar.  It's tastes like a moist jerky made from honey ham, and it's moist enough to be the most tender sweet and savory meat you will find this side of the Strait.

All of the dishes above have common characteristic of an easily identifiable main ingredient and an accompanying side sauce, both of which are features of traditional Taiwanese dishes.  After reading the previous post, you'll notice similar characteristics.  These simple dishes made from fresh ingredients is one of the ways to distinguish Taiwanese cuisine from others.  And it's this simplicity that makes the dishes so delicious.  Until the next simple and delicious meal, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Sit Fun (喫飯食堂)

台北市 大安區 / Taipei City, Da An District

永康街 8巷 5號 / Yong Kang Street, Lane 8, No. 5

ML - 20110907

Post 64: Taipei - Black White Slice / 台南意麵黑白切 (Taipei: Jhong Jheng District / 台北: 中正區)

Black... white... what?

Well, it's definitely not black white magic... even though it might taste magical.  Black and white placed next to each other in any Taiwanese phrase means whatever, anything, a myriad of something.  If you black white talk (ouh beh gonh / 黑白講), it means that you're saying something that is black, but you're also saying something that is white... you don't know if you mean one thing or another.  In essence, it means you're talking nonsense or talking bullshit.

If you black white walk (ouh beh jow / 黑白走), it means that you are walking here, but you are also walking there... you're wandering, or you have no idea where you're going.  So that means that black white slice (ouh beh tzeh / 黑白切) means that you can have slices of this and slices of that... a little bit of everything. 

A little bit of this... a little bit of that... and that's exactly how to eat at restaurants that serve in this black white slice style of eating.  Upon visiting an ouh beh tzeh restaurant (Taiwanese: ouh beh tzeh, Mandarin: hei bai qie / 黑白切) for the first time, I was greeted first by a refrigerator case running the length of the chef's chopping counter, which is just inches longer than my wingspan.  On display in the refrigerator case were all the freshest items that the chef had picked up from the supermarket and anything that the chef felt was suitable for the evening meal.  From freshly boiled shrimp to bright red sausage to the greenest asparagus to a thick and tasty meatloaf to glistening white calamari... you name it; the chef's got it.

Point to something.  Choose whatever you please.  The chef will slice up whatever you want to eat.

The most popular dish at my favorite black white slice institution is actually not in the refrigerator at all.  It's goose.  And it's located next to the fridge.  The chef lays the glorious geese (whole body intact) out for everyone to see.  And I mean everyone.  It's sitting pretty right at the restaurant's entrance.  Walking to your table? Ya can't miss it.

There are usually two types: salted goose or goose with soy sauce... take your pick.  The chef tosses fresh basil leaves and thinly sliced fresh ginger around the tender cuts of poultry for an exotic contrast in flavor.  He also throws in some sweet chili sauce just to cover any potential gamey taste that it may have.  Still apprehensive about goose meat? No worries... it tastes just like chicken.

Whether it's alive or dead, the second of my favorite black white dishes may scare you too.

Perhaps you've had shark fin soup before, but have you ever had the actual meat from a shark? Probably not.  I don't know many cultures that consume the meat from a shark.   Well, Taiwanese do.  And by the way, a shark is a fish too.  It's just... a ferocious, fierce looking, predatory kind of fish.  If you've seen Nemo, you know that sharks can't possibly be scary... fish are their friends.  (Hopefully, you didn't get past the fishaholics anonymous meeting.)  But I digress...

Smoked shark meat is really just smoked fish.  I'm not going to say it tastes like smoked salmon because it doesn't.  It's nowhere close.  It's got more of a firm, white fish flavor combined with a soft beef tendon texture.  Contrasted with the spicy wasabi and the salty soy sauce paste it's served with, the meat actually has a hint of sweetness.  If you're wondering whether it's too tough to chew on, it's not.  But it's not fatty either... the meat is actually pretty lean.  After all, the shark swims all day looking for friends to play with.  Am I not really selling it? Okay, chicken.  B'gok! It's just one of those things you have to taste for yourself to understand.  And you have to try it once in your life.  Ohhhh, so this is shark.

The next item is also something you have to try at least once in your life... Taiwanese stinky tofu.  Wow, I just introduced the scariest three items from a black white slice restaurant... goose, shark, and stinky tofu.  Good job, Michael.  

The tofu is steamed and then simmered in this spicy sauce that is made with tons of garlic, red chili pepper, and Szechwan peppercorn.  The tofu is served in a metal dish that gets fired up right in front of you.  The on-the-spot simmering and boiling causes wafts of aroma from the spicy sauce to drift past your nose.  It's fragrant, not stinky.  I dragged my hungry friends from China and France here for dinner.  They were a bit apprehensive at every dish I ordered, but I'm not lying when I say that the delicious goose, unique shark dish, and tasty tofu got them hooked on black white cuisine.

But if the trifecta of black white glory doesn't hold your attention, this magical bowl of chek-ah noodles (Taiwanese: chek-ah mi, Mandarin: qie zai mian / 切仔麵) definitely will.  What's awesome about these noodles is that it's just noodles and broth... and it goes with each and everything that the chef has sliced up for you.  Take a look around the black white restaurant, and you'll notice that every single patron has a steaming bowl of chek-ah mi in front of them.  Some even have two bowls... one recently finished empty and one freshly made.

Each bowl of noodles is complete with fresh goose stock and topped off with crunchy, deep fried onions, deep green leek, and crisp bean sprouts.  The leeks and fried onions add a depth of flavor to the goose stock.  The profound taste of chek-ah noodle soup becomes more of a feeling than just a means of sustenance.  It presents a feeling of home and heart, perhaps the same feeling you get when you have Mom's chicken noodle soup in a warm kitchen while the howling winter winds rage on outside.

There's a deftness of chopsticks usage throughout the restaurant.  Groups of co-workers, young couples, and even, ahem, friends with their tourist guests work quickly from the spicy tofu to the platter of goose, then quickly again to dip the shark meat into the soy and wasabi combination, all while swiveling noodles up in between bites.  The cheap bamboo chopsticks in everyone's hungry hands are stained with red chili oils and dark brown sauces.  And bits of fried onion can barely be shaken off with the nimblest of movements.  It's a whir of commotion and a blur of action.  Don't be surprised if you hear a loud slurping of noodles and broth.  After all, it is this simple bowl of noodles that brings the whole meal of black and white together.

But wait.  There's more.

The freshest item in the chef's fridge was the cut of salmon.  Its orange hue caught my eye, and dreams of sashimi began forming in my head.  Not a problem.  I pointed to it, and the chef knew that it would pair with my chek-ah noodles perfectly. 

Now... I can't say this is the healthiest of meals, but we did have a lot of lean protein (poultry, tofu, fish in two forms).  Why not further our health by selecting the two staples of any black white restaurant? 

Crisp asparagus (蘆筍) and tender bamboo shoots (竹筍) are both blanched (arguably the most popular way of cooking vegetables in Taiwan) and then served chilled with sweet Japanese mayonnaise as a dip.  Both asparagus and bamboo are symbolized by a common Han character (筍), which perhaps is an ancient Sino way of saying that these two vegetables go very well together.  Each is sweet, fibrous, crisp and refreshing, and they both snap quickly with a firm bite.  And after tons of protein and a bowl of noodles, I think fresh, crisp veggies are the only way to go.  Even after my tourist buddy exclaimed that she could eat no more, I caught her chopsticks veering toward the vegetable plates... "Except this."  She picks up another piece... "I can still eat this."

Well then, bring on another bowl of noodles! I think we've still got some stinky tofu to finish anyway.  Until the next black white whatever, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Black White Slice (台南意麵黑白切)
台北市 中正區/ Taipei City, Jhong Jheng District
濟南路 2段 53-8號/ Jinan Road, Section 2, No. 63-8

How I get there:
MRT: Zhongxiao Xinsheng Station (捷運忠孝新生站)
exit no. 2; walk through the park;
pass Mos Burger, Starbucks, Formosa Chang, 85度C
make a right at Jinan Road, Section 2 (濟南路 2段)
do not pass the produce store

ML - 20110909

Post 26.12: Vancouver - Day 3 (Dinner/Post-dinner)

If there's one thing I miss about Taiwan, it's strolling through the night market.  Alright, it's never that easy to stroll through a night market in Taipei... getting stuck and possibly sandwiched is more like it.  But it's the energy of the night that I miss.  There is literally a buzz in the air... if not from the chatter of conversation in the local language then from the molecules flowing through the numerous neon tubes that bring light and warmth to the atmosphere.  Oh, Shilin, how I wish you weren't a 14-hour flight away...

Well, I was in luck because Vancouver has its very own annual summer night market.  And I happened to be right in the midst of the commotion.  I can't believe I even told Amanda that it was alright if we never made it to the night market.  I'm really glad she responded with, "Man, if people found out that I didn't take you to the night market..."

I'm not sure if she ever finished that sentence or if I tuned it out because I didn't want to know the consequences. Either way, I'm glad I made it to the craziness that was the night market. (Thanks, Amanda.) Stands stood next to stand... it was hard to see the gap where one stand ended and the next began. Endless rows of stands served snacks and traditional delicacies from all over the Asian continent... I was enthused to see the different foods represented from Taiwan, Hong Kong, China, Japan, Korea, the Philippines...

Of course, my stomach had a field day.  We started off with a crepe that was filled with strawberries, Nutella, vanilla ice cream, and a good helping of whipped cream.





Watching the crepe master make it was a bit of fun in itself.  The crepe creator solidified the crepe batter, laid the strawberries out one by one, drizzled chocolate syrup, dropped vanilla ice cream, and folded the crepe all in less than five minutes.



Right next to the crepe stand was a skewer stand that offered everything from grilled lamb skewers to barbecued ice cream on a stick.  Whoooa... BBQ ice cream? Curious much? I asked the cashier what exactly BBQ ice cream was, and she replied, "Look.  Picture." 

Hah.  I guess her answer meant that it was time to fully satisfy our sweet tooths.



It was so obvious which order was ours.  There were just three little spheres of ice cream smoking next to a dozen or so lamb skewers on the grill.  The poor little ice cream balls looked so out of place that I couldn't stop laughing.



They topped it off by drizzling the ice cream with a bit of condensed milk and Hershey's chocolate syrup.  One bite, and Ian exclaimed, "Man! These are cream puffs!"

Oh, and how right he was.  They really tasted simply like frozen cream puffs that had a smoky essence.  I was disappointed by the advertising... but delighted by what I tasted.



My sweet tooth was satisfied... overly so.  I wanted just some plain water to get the potential tooth decay taste out of my mouth, but I came across a Japanese stand with a fresh ginger cooler.  It was sweet but sharp and biting at the same time... all the characteristics of fresh, raw ginger... and none of the characteristics of ginger ale.  Amanda took a sip of it, and she made the same face that a child would make upon tasting chopped liver for the first time.  I don't think either of us appreciated the little bits and pieces of fresh ginger floating around inside the drink.  Perhaps onto something else...?

At the same stand I ordered the Japanese-style burger with an extra helping of kimchi in the middle.  At that time I think I was attempting to fill my void of Taiwan's Mos Burger, a hamburger chain that specializes in Japanese-style hamburgers, many of which have sticky rice in place of the typical bread bun.  Each time I took a bite, the pressure from the chomp squeezed the center of the burger, which caused teriyaki sauce to oooooze out of the middle... it dripped onto the rice bun... the napkin... my hand... mmmmm...



We got some Japanese takoyaki too.  Half a dozen spheres of octopus were covered with Japanese mayonnaise, okonomiyaki sauce, seaweed confetti, and of course, the flakes of bonito that wisp with the heat of the takoyaki.  I love watching the bonito flakes writhe in the heat, especially on okonomiyaki.

We saved the one item we were all waiting for last. Although we went straight for the Hong Kong style egg waffles when we first walked into the night market, the line was so long that we decided to come back later. And even when we returned, the line was just as long... the only difference was that our craving for the waffle increased ten-fold.

I snuck a little peak behind the stand's plastic curtains to see the waffle machines at full capacity.  Each time the waffle iron clamped down to close, the batter would seep out and leave a trail of batter droplets on the iron.  After hundreds of times of closing the waffle iron, more and more trails of batter accumulated onto the iron's surface, leaving an unconsumed little hill of semi-cooked waffle behind.

After waiting for what only seemed like an eternity, we picked up our double order of original egg flavored waffle and chocolate flavored waffle. And I'll be the first one to say... it was worth the wait. I was already stuffed to the brim with crepe, ice cream, ginger water, rice and meat, and takoyaki, but it was so hard to stay away from these waffles. Each sphere (we had a lot of spherical-shaped food at the night market) was crispy and warm... and I tore each section off one at a time and popped each one. With each bite I broke the crust and allowed the steam to escape (the waffles are hallow) from the waffle's insides to the insides of my mouth. Ooooh... it's like a reminder that the waffles just came right off the iron. FRESH. That waffle was FRESH.



Mmmm... fresh waffle.  Fresh crepe.  Fresh okonomiyaki.  Fresh everything.  I inhaled a bit of faux Taiwanese atmosphere while inhaling carbs galore from around the world.  Man, this night market was amazing-awesome.  That's one thing I'll say that has USA beat.  Night markets in Taipei, Keelung, and Kaohsiung? Oh yeah, there are plenty.  Night markets in LA? You'd think there would be.  But night markets in Vancouver? I didn't think so, but I'm sure as hell glad that there are.  (Take out the horrid manure scent from the Home Depot across the street, and you've got an even better night market.)



Hey SoCal, I say we have some night markets at the Pomona Fairgrounds, OC Fair, and Del Mar Fair whenever the fairs aren't around.

Next post: The most expensive poutine ever