Post 63: Taipei - More Szechwan Flavors / 更多川味 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北: 大安區)

Although beef noodle soup is the supposed national dish of Taiwan, it is rumored to have origins in the Szechwan region of China.  Since its creation, beef noodle soup has been altered by the many generations of Taiwanese to what it is today.  However, other Szechwan-branded dishes such as mapo tofu (麻婆豆腐), hot and sour soup (酸辣湯), and dan dan noodles (擔擔麵) have generally remained constant throughout their culinary histories.  There may have been substitutions for different or better quality ingredients and perhaps slight tweaks in flavors to suit regional palates, but for the most part, these famous items are still considered Szechwan dishes.  Chili House Restaurant (四川吳抄手) in Taipei is a great place for a taste of these traditional spicy Szechwan flavors... but it's also a great place for discovering some non-spicy items too.



On my previous visits to the restaurant, I had ordered the usuals: red chili wontons (紅油抄手), super spicy mala noodles (麻辣麵) that numb your tongue, and hot and sour cabbage pork (酸白菜肉絲) wrapped in steamed shaobing pockets (燒餅).  This time, though, I had a sudden craving for fatty pork.  I doubt the Szechwan origins of this dish, especially because the only remotely spicy ingredient in it is minced garlic, but hey, a craving is a craving.  The English translation of this dish is cold white cut pork slices (蒜泥白肉), which doesn't sound appetizing in the least... so let's just use my translation: fatty pork in minced garlic and soy sauce.  Yum!

Hey, that's exactly what it is, anyway.  Lean slices of pork, which are blanched just quick enough to cook the meat, are bordered by thin, wrinkles of fat without a hint of grease.  Before anything else is done to the pork, it's chilled so that the meat becomes stretchy and tender, and the curls of fat on the pork taste almost al dente.  Soy sauce paste, a thickened and more pungent version of soy sauce that is widely used in Taiwanese cooking, is later drizzled over the top of the meat.  And the minced garlic? Already in the soy sauce paste.  No need for rice.  It's like chomping on bacon and not worrying about the eggs.

But I guess you can't really eat at a restaurant that serves Szechwan cuisine without ordering any spicy food at all right? Bring the red chili wontons, please.  In fact, these red chili wontons are exactly what anyone coming to this restaurant should order.  After all, the name of the wonton dish (紅油抄手) is in the name of the restaurant (四川吳抄手). 

The chili wontons come six in an order, and they come sitting in a puddle of soy and chili oil... unmixed.  You can relish in the tossing, mixing, and marinating of the flappy, Chinese ravioli before indulging in these bite-size poppers.  They're mouthfuls of savory, salty, and spicy bliss.  And what's even better is that you put effort into these one-bite wonders, and you know... it always tastes better if you've had a hand in the work.

After devouring half a dozen little fists of cloud-like wontons, I dug my chopsticks into the mound of hot and sour cold noodles (冰鎮酸辣麵).  The noodles were topped off with Chinese celery, chili and chili oil, green onions, sesame, and bean sprouts... a combination of of ingredients that provided notes of sour tang and chilled bursts of crunchy refreshment.  The celery, sesame, and sprouts opened the way to cooling off during the hot and humid Taipei summer afternoon.



A bowl of noodles usually sustains my hunger, but after discovering the refreshing delight from the Chinese celery and bean sprouts, I perused the menu for another vegetable dish.  Typical Szechwan vegetable dishes include dry fried green beans (乾煸四季豆) and fish fragrant garlic eggplant (魚香茄子), but somehow I landed on a tofu dish that contained more seafood than it did veggies.  The treasure chest of seafood (海至尊) came in a shallow dish filled to the brim with kryptonite green peas, cubes of diced sea cucumber, shrimp, clams, squid, and smoked ham submerged in a sauce made from salted egg yolk.

This was the most disturbing looking dish of the meal.  Perhaps the house specialty appetizer, bean sprouts wrapped in tofu skin (芝麻豆皮捲豆芽), was a better choice just based simply on appearance.  But this pool of sulfuric tofu was actually pretty tasty.  Each item of seafood was diced to the size of the tofu, which meant every bite had equal parts of tender tofu and springy seafood.  The salted egg yolk gave the dish a hearty and homemade taste while binding the plethora of ingredients together.  It looked ugly, but it tasted pretty damned good.  Hey, we aren't supposed to judge a book by its cover anyway, right?

One tofu dish led to another tofu dish... except the next tofu dish was a dessert, and it came compliments of the restaurant.  Almond tofu (杏仁豆腐) is typically a simple, homestyle dessert, but I understand why it's offered after a spicy meal.  The soft jello (it's not really tofu) has an almond fragrance with a sweet taste that soothes the tongue better than any other spice retardant... better than iced water or cold milk.  With or without spicy food, the springy, jiggly tofu in disguise was a great way to end any meal. 

Chili House has become a regular stop for me whenever I get a chance to visit Taipei.  Hopefully, everyone finds their own favorite spicy, Szechwan stop.  Until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Chili House Restaurant (四川吳抄手)

台北市 大安區/ Taipei City, Da An District

忠孝東路 4段 250之3號 / Zhongxiao East Road, Section 4, No. 250-3

How I get there:

MRT: Zhongxiao Dunhua Station (捷運忠孝敦化站)

exit no. 4; walk east on Zhongxiao East Road

make a right on Lane 248 (248 巷); restaurant is on the left

ML - 20110915

Post 62: Taipei - We Love Beef Noodle Soup / 我們愛牛肉麵 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北: 大安區)

Okay, tell me.  Who doesn't love beef noodle soup?

Taiwanese and non-Taiwanese, locals and tourists, whoever has discovered this savory soup noodle has fallen in love with it.  It doesn't matter if other cultures have variations of this dish (think Vietnamese pho); even they have the occasional craving for soupy noodles swimming in beef juice.  Even our friend Diana, whose eating habits borderline vegetarianism, will have beef noodle soup.  Meat on the side, please. 

There are thousands of beef noodle soup restaurants in Taiwan, many of which claim to have made the champion of all beef noodle soups.  It's no wonder that many of these shops are concentrated around Yong Kang Street (永康街), a main tourist area in Taipei with hundreds of visitors from Japan and Hong Kong, many of whom come specifically to visit world-famous Din Tai Fung dumpling house... and to get a taste of Taiwan's beefy national dish.

So Yong Kang St. is where Diana and I took Rina, our special guest from Seoul, who indeed fell in love with beef noodle soup (and gua bao, among other Taiwanese specialties).  We sat down at Lao Zhang Beef Noodle Shop (老張牛肉麵), the 2006 champion of the annual Taipei beef noodle soup competition.  Lao Zhang (also known as Old Chang's) specializes in Szechwan flavors, which means they use plenty of chili pepper, garlic, and Szechwan peppercorn, a spice that effectively tingles your throat with a numbing spiciness.

While Rina slurped up the soy and tomato infused soup and while Diana enjoyed her meatless version (think clam chowder without the clams), I took delight in Old Chang's cucumber and green bean appetizers, both of which are peppered with red chili.  But what I really enjoyed from Old Chang's was the famous spicy steamed pig intestine (粉蒸肥腸).  Yup, you heard me... pig intestine.

The spicy steamed pig's intestine is a fen zheng (粉蒸) dish, which roughly translates to a dish that is powder steamed.  The powder it refers to is a type of rice powder, a sort of rice or grain that resembles couscous.  The grains of rice look like they have been broken in half by a crushing, grounding, or pounding process.  Added to the the rice powder are usually spices such as star anise, five spice powder, pepper, and sometimes cumin or cinnamon.  Wash the imagery of intestine coils out of your brain, and fill them with thoughts of tofu skin with sticky rice covered in garlic, chili, pepper, star anise, and the ever fragrant Szechwan peppercorn.  You will think it's amazing-delicious. 

Even Rina, who may have been slightly averse to internal organs prior to tasting this dish, tried it... and liked it.  When I showed oolong-milktea pictures from my trip, he made some hunger-induced oooh and ahhh noises.  What he ooohed and ahhed over was the version of the fen zheng dish made with pork spare ribs (粉蒸排骨)... equally as delicious as the intestines and perhaps just a tad less gut-wrenching.  Oh, and did I mention that there's a layer of soft and fluffy sweet potato at the bottom of the bamboo steamer soaking up all the spicy flavors and fatty oils that have dripped from down from the pork? Oooh, hell yeah.

But back to beef noodle soup.  Before I could even finish the bamboo steamer of pork, Rina and Diana had already demolished their bowls of noodles.  Tender beef? Gone.  Chewy noodles? Gone.  Spicy soup? All gone.  Although the fen zheng pig intestines were good, it was clear that the star of the show was still the beef noodle soup.

If you can stomach it, I'd suggest heading to Taoyuan Street (桃園街) to try another famous beef noodle soup institution (one of oolong-milktea's favorites).  There are tons of beef noodle stores, stalls, and restaurants in Taipei... including one owned by a Persian man married to a Taiwanese lady.  You're sure to find one that you love.  Until then, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Lao Zhang Beef Noodle Shop (老張牛肉麵)

台北市 大安區 / Taipei City, Da An District

愛國東路 105號 / Ai Guo East Road, No. 105

麗水街口 / Intersection of Li Shiu Street

ML - 20110911

Post 16.3: Oodles of Noodles (LA-SGV: Arcadia/Alhambra)

A post on A&J Restaurant (半畝園) cannot be complete without mentioning the oodles of noodles on their menu.  As a purveyor of the hand-pulled noodle, A&J has a variety of noodles that ranges from the ever-popular Taiwanese braised beef noodle soup to Szechwan-style noodles in sesame and peanut sauce (AKA dan dan noodles) to native favorites such as zhajiang noodles.  Many of these noodles hail originally from Szechwan (Sichuan) Province of China, but have been popular in America by Taiwanese noodle houses like A&J.  Here is a look at some of A&J's most popular noodles:

Braised beef noodle soup (紅燒牛肉麵)
listed on the menu as spicy beef noodle soup



Braised beef noodle soup is almost a staple of Taiwanese noodle houses everywhere.  And although it was first introduced to Taiwan in the 1950s, it has become one of Taiwan's most popular and well known national foods.  Every family, every chef, every restaurant adds different ingredients to their beef noodle soup, but the method is standard everywhere... and it begins with braising or stewing beef broth until the beef is tender and the soup is flavorful.  A&J's beef noodle soup is infused with soy sauce and succulent beef that isn't the least bit tough.

It's topped off with bok choy and sliced green onions for health, color, and flavor.  Some noodle-goers like to add cilantro as garnish while others cannot go without topping the noodle soup off with pickled mustard greens for some crunch and flavor contrast.

Dan dan noodles (擔擔麵)
listed on the menu as noodles in hot spicy sesame sauce topped with peanut powder



Dan dan noodles are simply noodles with sesame and peanut sauce.  Dan dan refers to the shoulder poles that peddlers or hawkers used to carry the noodles back in the old days in China's Szechwan Province.  It's one of my go-to noodles that I know I can count on whenever I'm indecisive... or feeling down.  This is my big bowl of comfort.  I remember the days when I used to sit at the kitchen table watching my Aunt Wendy make this dish.  I would ask my Aunt Wendy to top off my bowl of dan dan noodles with a dollop of Peter Pan brand peanut butter to soften the blow of the spicy Szechwan chili.  I ate dan dan noodles whenever I needed to soften the blow of bad grades or parental punishment.  How fitting.



Dan dan noodles are the grown-up, sinicized version of licking peanut butter from a spoon.  I relish in its comfort; I relish in its simplicity.  Even the name is simple... dan dan.  Anyone, Chinese-speaking or not, can order it easily.  

Many variations of this noodle exist.  Some are prepared with a heaping pool of chili oil, and some others include ground pork.  But my favorite is simply noodles, sauce, and a hint of pickled mustard greens.  How simple, how amazing.

Zhajiang noodles (炸醬麵)
listed on the menu as noodles with ground pork, bean sprouts and shredded cucumber



Zha is to fry, and jiang is the word for sauce.  Ground pork has been stir-fried with either soybean paste or black bean paste as the base for these noodles, hence the name zhajiang noodles.  Some versions of zhajiangmian include diced carrots or dried bean curd (tofu) in the sauce, but I prefer mine without.  I prefer A&J's version... hand-pulled noodles cooked just to a chewy, elastic, al dente consistency (or a 'Q' consistency for Taiwanese), ground pork, and cold bean sprouts and cucumber.  Yum.

A&J offers many more noodles on the menu, but these were some of the favorites for regulars and first-timers alike.  The same menu (and more) is offered at A&E Restaurant (北平麵館), which was A&J Restaurant's original location before it became a chain restaurant.  Got a favorite bowl of noodles? Share yours.  Until then, let's get S.O.F.A.T.

ML - 20100926/20100116+0419+0423+0711