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 58: Be Happy... Chatting over Tartare (LA: Beverly Hills)

Back when I still had full use and employment of my teeth, a long lost friend and I decided to throw on our bourgeois attitude and roll up to Chaya for a five-course chef's tasting.  I had B.H. tattooed on my aura for that meal.  And if the letters B and H didn't mean Beverly Hills at that time, it meant be happy for the two of us.  And we were as happy as two long, lost friends could possibly be... we watched beautiful people sit and just be as beautiful as their food... and we chatted as puffy, white clouds rolled away in the big, blue sky... and we chatted as the big, orange star we call the sun lowered itself to cast a shady gloom over my risotto... and we chatted until the last dollop of vanilla caramel ice cream camouflaged itself against the ceramic dish it came in.  These are the three dishes from Chaya Brasserie that made us the most happy.

Melon y jamon
compressed melon, burrata cheese, salame, arugula, aged balsamic vinegar reduction

The first time I had melon and cured Italian meat in combination, I was a recent high school graduate vacationing with family in Canada of all places.  It was the Fairmont resort somewhere in the wilderness of Alberta that introduced me to my first combination of sweet melon and salty Italian prosciutto.  I hadn't had a serious relationship at the time, but I knew I was in love.

There's something about the contrasting sweet and salty flavors and the rough and smooth textures that makes complete sense... like when smooth slices of salty ham is placed on top of fibrous triangles of pineapple on pizza... when sprinkles of course sea salt is introduced to smooth, sweet caramel anything.  I love that I can take the salami or prosciutto and fold it over a freshly cut piece of melon.  I breathe a sigh of happiness when I do it... as if burdens have been lifted from my shoulders and pressures from life tip toe away from my heart.  I feel the same comfort when I wrap myself in blankets at bedtime.  It's not the same blanket wrap that I do when I'm freezing in the middle of winter or the blanket wrap that I do at the end of a tough day.  It's a light, delicate wrap.  A peaceful one that produces a sigh of happiness.  The kind you do on vacation.  Yes, that one.  And each bite is like having your head hit the fluffiest of down pillows... again and again... happiness.

Salmon tartare and mi-cuit
tartare: wasabi tobiko, cilantro blossom, pickled daikon radish squares
cucumber raita, wild arugula, ahi amarillo aioli, seaweed jelly
mi-cuit: sovid, wasabi creme fraiche

It's not quite tuna tartare yet not quite salmon sashimi... it's a profound dish in its own right.  The seemingly simple dish of salmon tartare actually produced a couple of wows.  The tenderness of the salmon protein became even more supple as the light layer of olive oil marinated with the salmon's own natural lipids.  Is anyone thinking about bikini mud wrestling besides me? Not so much? Hey, the analogy works.

What else works are the uniquely shaped but uniformly sized pieces of salmon.  They fit together like a chaotically constructed Jenga set teetering on the edge of collapse, yet they remain as stable as the Bird's Nest in Beijing.  So rather than being distracted by which piece of salmon is bigger or smaller than the other, the tongue can simply relax and focus on how fresh the salmon is... and the brain can say, "wow, this is good... wow, wow, wow."  The brain will be so pleasured by the bliss of deliciousness that it won't know it's fish at all.

Spring pea risotto
Japanese green risotto, sugar snaps, English peas
Parmesan, mascarpone, curry, basil, confetti flowers

Normally I wouldn't find rice and vegetables to be very exciting, but the spring pea risotto invoked a sense of happy relaxation in me.  It was as beautiful tasting as it was beautiful looking, albeit the image was marred by both the lack of natural lighting and my lack of savvy with photo editing.  But no matter... what's good is still good.

The feeling of intense absence of tension in my body was brought by the sudden surprise of curry in the waves of creamy rice.  I had a feeling that it was Japanese curry powder, which unlike Thai or Indian curries, is a bit more subtle and slightly sweet.  The taste is not as prickly on the tongue as a Thai green curry or an Indian masala.  Other surprises came in the form of a pea here and a pea there, just the right amount of healthy vileness and just the right amount of pleasant, non-shocking discovery.  This was the kind of dish that I could eat by the pool.  I wouldn't mind replacing the obligatory poolside cocktail with this risotto dish either.  Swirling a big, metal spoon around in creamy, not firm, not mushy, perfectly spiced rice is so much more gratifying that twirling a swizzle stick in a martini glass.  It's just not the same.

The final dish was a beef duo of short rib and tenderloin with porcini puree and daube sauce.  It was... alright.  And the dessert tasting was a chocolate croissant bread pudding with vanilla caramel ice cream.  I was already too happy to be bothered with a sugar high.  But no matter... good food and a good friend to jumpstart a Friday evening creates a casual, lingering happiness that carries over into the start of Saturday.  To the start of a happy weekend, everyone... let's all get S.O.F.A.T.

Esther of e*star LA posted on her off-menu tastings at Chaya Brasserie here.

ML - 20110610