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

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165. Taiwan Day 1: A Quick Bite at Little Lin's Noodle Shop / 小林麵食館 (Taipei: Da An District / 台北市: 大安區)

Just a few hours into my trip in Taiwan, I called up fellow Triton alum Diana.  We just so happened to be right across the street from each other, so we met up and headed down to Little Lin's Noodle Shop (小林麵食館) for a quick bite.  Thankfully, this little corner shop puts its air conditioning on full blast because the heat and humidity in Taipei was slowly killing me.

We started off with an authentically prepared sliced goose.  It is simply poached in its own broth and served with strips of fresh ginger and green onions.  The meat is tender and flavorful, and the juiciness oozes with each bite.  Ask any local, and they will tell you it is one of their favorite Taiwanese delicacies. 

Of course, since it is a noodle shop, we had to order a big bowl of their house special black sesame noodles (黑芝麻麵).  The sesame sauce is covered by the porcelain white noodles until mixed.  When the sauce covers the strands of noodles, the aromatic fragrance of the sesame wafts up from the bowl.  The restaurant says that sesame, along with green tea and miso, are key ingredients to the Japanese people's longevity.  The Taiwanese have adopted many Japanese culinary and lifestyle habits since their rule in Taiwan, and health has been one of them.  There is also an option for white sesame sauce, but this is Diana's usual go-to noodle choice.

Eating with Diana means that there are bound to be vegetables on the table.  We went for some gorgeous, green sweet potato leaves (地瓜葉) to round out our quick meal.  Whether blanched or sauteed, the sprouted leaves taste like a tender version of spinach, and they are another local favorite as well.

And now... maybe an iced beverage to cool us down... or perhaps more noodles? Until next time, let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Little Lin's Noodle Shop (小林麵食館)
台北市大安區大安路1段28號
No. 28, Da An Rd., Sec 1, Da An District, Taipei City

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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

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