Taipei (Part 3)

January 2

This was my last day in Taipei, and I was particularly excited for two reasons: one, I was going to meet a former Taiwanese graduate student of my father, and two, this man and his wife would be taking me to Xinyi Road to have lunch at the original DinTaiFung, a restaurant that the New York Times ranked as one of the top ten in the world in 1993. Since then, and partly because of that well publicized ranking, DinTaiFung has enjoyed increased exposure and renown, and now has restaurants all over the world.

It's never NOT crowded at DinTaiFung. We had to wait ninety minutes to get in, and the entranceway was still packed when we left at three o'clock.

Since they took our order while we waited, once we got seated our food arrived almost immediately. We started with a lightly sauteed cabbage, which is famous in Taiwan for being grown at a high elevation where much of the island's tea is cultivated, and spinach sauteed with garlic. This was followed by two small bowls of soup: black chicken soup, which had a rich broth and very tender meat, and a thick soup made from tofu, eggs, minced vegetables, and blood cake, which I found interesting for its subtly sour flavor.

Lightly sauteed cabbage

Garlic and sauteed spinach

Black chicken soup

Thick soup with tofu, eggs, minced veggies, and blood cake

But the showstoppers at DinTaiFung are their steamed buns, or xiaolongbao, which the owners -- a married couple -- have been making for more than fifty years. Their xiaolongbao are known for the technique by which they're made as well as their artistry: each bun, for example, has the exact same number of folds as every other bun made there. The buns themselves are made from very thin flour, and the steaming process cooks the juices out of whatever they're filled with so that when you bite into them you're also getting what amounts to a steaming hot broth.

From left to right: pork, crab, and veggie steamed buns

We ordered three savory types of buns -- pork, crab, and minced vegetables -- that we immediately tucked into before they cooled down, stuck to the bottom layer of cloth on which they sat, and became impossible to lift to our mouths without tearing open and spilling their contents. I, of course, was the only one who managed to tear open his xiaolongbao, and I did it at least half the time I tried to pick one up and set it in my long plastic spoon to eat.

The guts of a veggie dumpling

I'm not at all expert on steamed buns, but what I can say about these is that they were very satisfying -- not the least bit greasy, and very light in taste, with each type that we ordered flavorful with ingredients such as ginger and onion.

Rice and red bean cake

Our main course was followed by a very strange looking confection -- a steamed rice cake studded with red beans and decorated on top with droplets of red and green gelatin. It looked quite dry, but it was actually very moist. The red beans gave the steamed cake all the sweetness that it needed, and although it looked airy it was surprisingly heavy. Not as heavy as a doubled layered black forest cake, but it still had a deceptively light appearance.

Taro dumpling

My favorite bun, however, was definitely the taro xiaolongbao. This dessert bun was much sweeter than the cake, and the taro filling was so deliciously creamy that, had our order included triple the number of buns that we got, I would have had no problem whatsoever finishing them off. I can still taste them, and although I live in a place where taro is widely consumed, I'm sure that trying to find an equal to them in Hawaii will be next to impossible. But I'm going to try. And knowing me, if I do find their equal here, I will rejoice by eating two hundred of them in one sitting.

Dumpling making is serious business at DinTaiFung

DinTaiFung (http://www.dintaifungusa.com/en/en_index.html) has branches in Los Angeles, Seoul, Singapore, Jakarta, Hong Kong, and in cities throughout China and Japan. The restaurant I went to is located at No. 194 Xinyi Road Sec. 2 (on the corner of Yunkang Street) in Taipei. Their telephone number is (02) 2321-8928. They're open from 10 a.m. until 9 p.m. on Monday - Friday, and from 9 a.m. until 9 p.m. on Saturdays and public holidays.

Taipei (Part 2)

December 31

Jet-lag again had me going to bed much later than usual (2 a.m.) and waking up earlier than I should have (5:30 a.m.). But, since I was up and awake as early as that, I figured I should take a nice long walk through the rain to the fish market. Unfortunately, when I got there I found that they were closed -- as in permanently shut down. At least that's what a nice English-speaking pork salesman told me. I'm not sure that he knew what he was talking about, though, as the place simply appeared to open later than the individual market stalls surrounding their big, dirty blue building.

I didn't really know what to expect from this place, but I was impressed at what I found. I was there before six, and this guy was already chopping up beef.


There were a great number of fish and other ocean-dwelling creatures in the maze of stalls I walked through. Here's a table full of all kinds of interesting things that had probably been plucked out of the Taiwan Strait, Philippine Sea, or South China Sea just a few hours before.


The next two photos show other tables with fish for sale to early rising mothers and wives, but most of all to local restaurants.



As I made my way through the maze of stalls that sold seemingly everything any Taiwanese family or restaurant could possibly want, I bumped into a man hiding behind a row of roasted pig heads. I was surprised to hear him speak English as I stopped to snap a photo.

Lineup of pig heads

He was a nice guy and we were able to communicate better than I would have expected considering where we were. It wasn't long before he asked me if I wanted to try some of his pork, and being game for that sort of thing I said sure. It wouldn't have matter what I said, though, as he was already cutting a sliver of cheek from a pig's head he had on his cutting board before I could answer. The meat wasn't bad at all, aside from being greasy. Once he saw that I could handle a little Taiwanese roasted pig-face he pointed at a tray of humongous pig livers and insisted that I try some. I was a little hesitant, as I wasn't sure if the liver was raw, but he sliced off a big chunk, apparently deaf to my repeated calls that all I needed was a little piece to taste.

The guy in the white shirt sawed off a hunk of the brown liver lying in that metal tray and handed it to me. How to say no in a situation like that? Ah, but I'm glad I did it...

It wasn't bad. It had a very mild taste, and with a little imagination it could have been paté. Still, I wasn't really into random pig parts for breakfast, and after thanking the man I decided to leave the market and look for more conventional fare elsewhere.

I ended up wandering into a rather large establishment a few blocks from the market. There was a line of people there, which is always a good sign, and whatever they were cooking looked safe and interesting. When I spotted a woman frying eggs, I decided this would be a good place.

Breakfast became a little comical almost as soon as I entered. I was having trouble communicating what I wanted to eat, but then I heard two of the younger women working there speak Vietnamese. This made asking what they sold, and then ordering breakfast, much easier. Of course, once they found out that I spoke Vietnamese, they wanted to know everything about me. They were really friendly, and we talked for a while. Both of them had married Taiwanese men and were working at a restaurant owned by one of their families.

The steamed bun was tasty, and so was the hot soy milk. But the egg and beef wrapped in sticky rice was so dry and tasteless it was almost inedible. This was the only food I encountered in Taiwan that I didn't like.

After I'd finished eating, I asked one of the Vietnamese women for the name and address of their restaurant. She fidgeted around for a while, then handed me a piece of paper with her name and telephone number on it. "Call me," she said. "We'll go around and have fun." I never got the name and address of the restaurant. Nor did I ever call her. I didn't think her husband would like that...

Dinner was going to be special, and I was excited for it. One of Tom's students, who is also a good friend of his, invited us to eat with him an old village called Shenkeng, which is famous for its tofu. His house was nearby, and we intended to pay a short visit to see his family after dinner. Since it was New Year's Eve, we didn't want to impose on them all night, but in the end Tom's friend and his family insisted that we stay. We did. We talked, drank a little Scotch, pieced on snacks, and enjoyed traditionally made Taiwanese tea. Just before midnight we drove to the top of a nearby mountain to watch, across a darkened valley, the world's tallest building, Taipei 101, explode in a bright fireworks display. It was a great night -- something I never thought I'd experience while planning my trip.

I really enjoyed the food we ate in Shengkeng. We entered the village at night, which meant that I couldn't see much of it beyond the restaurants and small shops whose brightly lit fronts lined the narrow, sloping road.

Fried tofu with peanut sauce and cilantro

Our first dish was a thick warm slab of tofu, which came fried and topped with peanuts, peanut sauce, and a bit of cilantro. I loved it. It was like a peanut butter sandwich with sweet fried tofu in place of bread. Which is a really bad description, I admit. And it will seem even more off-base with the mention that when I bit into the firm tofu its juices spilled warmly into my mouth, mixing with the various sweet flavors. Anyway, it was tasty.

The next dish was boiled chicken -- simple but good. The skin was a little rubbery, but the meat was tender.

Boiled chicken

The most exotic dish we had, however, was stinky tofu. This is meant to be unpalatable to most Westerners, and I was prepared to struggle mightily to eat an acceptable portion of it, but I found it entirely mild in its stink factor. (Maybe they made it as mild as possible when they saw me and Tom walk in.) Its most distinctive traits were that it had an interesting, slightly fuzzy texture, and was spicier than I had expected it to be. Andrew Zimmern, in his entertaining Bizarre Foods show, wasn't able to stomach this dish, but from what I understand he had a much heartier, much more putrescent version of it at the intimidatingly named "Dai's House of Unique Stink" in Taipei. The version I tried was in fact fermented, but not revoltingly so, and I believe its sauce, called mala, included goose blood.

Stinky tofu

And while the photo below is hardly flattering, the dish was very tasty. In fact, it was my favorite dish at this restaurant.

Fried fish in sweet chili sauce. This photo doesn't do the dish justice.

Our last dish consisted of fried squares of tofu topped with chopped scallions and accompanied by a mixed salad. The brown sauce in which it sat was disturbingly reminiscent of fermented shrimp paste, and to me this was the real stinky tofu. I ate several pieces, but not happily. Its strong aroma stayed with me all night, unfortunately, even after I'd had time to return home, shower, and brush my teeth (twice). Oddly, no one else detected the strong flavor of the sauce.

Fried tofu and veggies. To me, this was the real stinky tofu. I could hardly eat it.

Afterward, as I said, we enjoyed each other's company all evening leading up to the New Year's fireworks. Everyone here spoke English -- the kids' English abilities were impressively advanced -- which of course made communicating much easier, especially since I don't speak Chinese.

After dinner at Nankou's home. His family was great, and they made New Year's Eve a special treat for me.

January 1

Although I went to bed at around 2:00 a.m., my jetlag had me up and out of my hotel by around 6:30 a.m. Not surprisingly, the city, or at least the district where I was staying, was up market-shopping, eating, and generally bustling about. I wandered around for about 45 minutes to check out what my breakfast options were. I wanted something to start the New Year off right, and I took my time to find it.

I headed down MinSheng W. Rd. and hooked a right at Lane 45, Alley 11. There was a fairly lively market here, at least for around seven in the morning on the first day of the year.

Small market area off of Minsheng W. Rd. on New Year's Day

Some stalls were more appetizing than others. Here's one I kind of stared at, dumbfounded, for a while and finally decided to photograph.

I'm sure all of it tastes good, but there's a little too much "brown" going on here for me

This guy had a small but colorful selection of produce and fruit. He seemed pleased when I asked if I could take a photo. Then again, I have no idea what he said to me in Chinese. I wanted to kneel on the ground and bury my face in those beautiful grapes, then run off down the alley, but I controlled myself. I probably should have bought some...


After a while I decided on a breakfast that I found along Wan Quan Street, near the intersection of Minsheng W. Rd. and Nanjing W. Rd. There were a quite a few people eating here, taking their food very seriously, which is always a good sign. Maybe they were just hungover from New Year's Eve.

I wandered down and alley, found this, and lunged for an empty table before anyone else took it

I have no idea what the name of the small restaurant was, and half of what I ordered was a mystery to me. Luckily one of the people working there knew a bit of English, though I was happy to point at various items and make outlandish eating noises to indicate what I wanted. Most people only had two dishes and a bowl of rice at their table, but, for the sake of "research," I went with twice the normal order. I chose, from top left to bottom right: a delicious, crunchy black mushroom salad with ginger, carrot, and bean sprouts; some type of deep-fried fish that was excellent if a little too bony; a mild tasting soup (rather than order drinks with a meal, people simply slurp on soup) with chopped green onion and a delicious reddish-orange vegetable that I'm not familiar with, but which was refreshingly light and flavorful; cooked winter melon with bits of pork; a rather sweet, sauteed eggplant with a little sliced red chili that was unreal good; and a bowl of white rice.

My first breakfast of the year. So much better than the cereal and fruit I normally have in Hawaii...

For all of this I paid a whopping 100 Taiwanese dollars. Which is exactly US$3. Afterward I went to Starbucks (hey, it was the only café open) and paid nearly as much for a small coffee.

For lunch I walked to Dihua Market, which meant venturing out of Zhongshan district and into Ta Tung. As usual, it was raining lightly. Had it not been, I might have continued down Minsheng W. Rd. until hitting the Damshui River, or, changing directly slightly, even walking downtown.


In any case, I didn't find a lot of stalls or restaurants that jumped out at me, but for some reason I decided to stop here (below).


There was a couple sitting at a table in front of the cooking area, and what they were eating looked good to me, so I got the attention of the two women working there and pointed at the customers' bowls before they'd eaten everything. I sat down, and before I could even get my jacket off I was being served two bowls of something I didn't order, and, from what I could tell, the customers at the other table hadn't ordered this food, either. It all looked pretty gross to me, too, especially the cubes bits of pork and pork fat. I'd faced down that hard challenge in Vietnam plenty of times, and I really wasn't in the mood to do so here.


As for the soup-looking thing, that liquid was viscous. There's a reason why those green onions on top look buoyant. I could have let my face fall into my bowl and my nose wouldn't have gotten close to the bottom. Oh well, I thought. It was bound to happen at some point: I'd mis-order food, or I just wouldn't be able to finish what I'd ordered and be forced to leave it behind, uneaten.

I was so afraid of the pork fat on rice that I started with the viscous soup and what looked like deep-fried blood cakes floating in it. It was great! It was a mixture of fried chicken and white fish, with a little boiled cabbage. I didn't drink the soup because I thought I might have a heart attack before I finished it, but I happily ate the meaty parts. They were incredibly tender and didn't get weighed down by the liquid in which they sat.

What surprised me even more were those fatty pork cubes. They literally melted on my tongue, turning into a salty, roasted pork flavored sauce, which of course went great with the steamed rice. There was no need to chew anything but the rice. Some weird science was going on inside my mouth, but I wasn't complaining.

On way my home from Dihua Market I came across a few dessert options. Although they looked interesting, I passed on them.

Moon cakes for the New Year. They look nice, but they're not my favorite. To me, they're the Chinese equivalent of Christmas fruit cakes.

I stopped in a café called Dante's for a "Shaken Coffee" (black coffee with whipped cream on top -- ugh). I'm used to Vietnamese coffee, even in Hawaii, and the coffee quality in Taiwan disappointed me. However, they did have a lot of nice cafes.

Dinner was a bit more exciting. Tom and I met up at Jiantan Station and made our way to Shinlin Night Market. I was surprised to find Tom somewhat less than enthused at the prospect of going to the country's biggest night market and getting food. It wasn't long before I had joined Tom in his perspective.

It must have taken us forty-five minutes to get through the main thoroughfare of the market. If empty, I'm sure we could have walked through it in five.

On the night we went, and Tom says it's this way every night, Shinlin was packed to the hilt. Not just with bodies, but also with often kitschy goods and cheap, unattractive clothing being sold. The mass of bodies moved forward at a snail's pace, and the food being sold, once we found it, was nothing to write home about.

Candied cherry tomatoes. I tried them. It was like biting into a light bulb and finding warm, syrupy tomato juice inside.

Given how famous Shinlin is, I was surprised to find that it doesn't hold a candle to Liaoning Night Market, which I much preferred to this one.

This seemed like the best place to refuel with food. It was off of the shopping thoroughfares and within sight of the MRT station.

Taipei (Part 1)

When traveling abroad, one often gets the opportunity to search an unpleasant situation for a silver lining. In my case, here in Taipei, I figured that six days of ceaseless rain would force me into just such a search. Luckily, I found that Taipei specializes in silver linings, and my search was over before it had even begun.

One reason for this is that Taipei is incredibly vibrant. Talk about a city that never sleeps; I was out twice until after 2:30 a.m. (a matter of jetlag more than lifestyle) and encountered crowded sidewalks, taxi-filled streets, and countless eateries open for business. And when I was up and wandering the city at 6:00 a.m., markets were already bustling and plenty of street vendors were ready for business.

Another reason is that the city is huge and infinitely explorable. The sheer variety of things being sold, displayed, and prepared for people’s consumption is staggering. There’s virtually no uniformity in these types of things, which is quite different from what one too often finds in the U.S. Sure, there are chain stores, but they don’t dominate the urban landscape in any noticeable way. And while the city’s architecture isn’t all that much to look at, neither is it boring. There’s an eclectic mix that works here.

Taipei is abundantly there on every street corner, in every tiny alley, its sights and smells and sounds commingling like one finds in any of the world’s truly major cities. And any language difficulties a non-Chinese or –Taiwanese speaker encounters is more than made up for by the friendliness of the Taiwanese. Their friendliness alone makes the city amazingly accessible. It’s something I haven’t found nearly as much in places such as Thailand, Japan, or Hong Kong.

Can you tell that I was taken by Taipei?

Other than losing my glasses, I had nothing but great experiences in Taipei, and I left wondering why the city and country is not a more popular travel destination. I hardly saw any Westerners here.

The food alone is reason to visit. It’s cheap, incredibly varied, healthy, and invariably delicious. The city’s many night markets are guaranteed to impress any visitor and make them wish that the food culture in their own country would open its eyes to Taipei and take after it.

Although I have two more days here, I’m happy to say that I have yet to eat any Western food. I did try a cream-filled pastry yesterday afternoon, but I couldn’t get past my first bite and threw it away – my only bad food experience, and one that was with something that isn’t particularly Taiwanese in origin anyway. (Imagine biting not into cardboard but rather balsa wood, with the cream in the middle resembling hard unsalted butter. I can’t fault anyone but myself for this, though – the people in the shop were friendly and wished me a happy new year, which is just the kind of thing to win me over in a foreign country.)

Well over half of what I’ve eaten here goes beyond my abilities to describe food. I order things I’ve never seen before, and sometimes I’m served things people mistakenly think I want. What I end up eating is almost always a mystery, but I’m also always pleasantly surprised by what I stuff in my mouth.

December 29th

On my first night in town, I headed to a part of Zhongshan district to meet my friend, Tom, who lives in Taipei and teaches at a local university. We headed through the red light district, which seemed pretty tame to me, to a little hole in the wall that he's been going to for years.

I have no idea what the place is called, as I can't read Chinese, and Tom didn't know either, even though he's been coming here for years. It was a very intimate place, with perhaps eight tables, and customers regularly stayed for hours, like we did whenever we came, engaging with the people working there.

I'm not sure what this vegetable was, but it was light, crispy, and good

I let Tom do the honors and order everything for us. I was pleased by his choices, which were varied, spicy, and pretty healthy overall. Ah, and they were cheap, too, like so much Taiwanese food is.

We ordered two plates of lightly sauteed green vegetables with garlic, a lamb dish with gravy and what appeared to be water spinach (but wasn't), and some very spicy but delicious General Tsai's chicken with peanuts and red chilies.

Boiled spinach sauteed with garlic

Lamb and veggies in a brown gravy

If anyone knows who General Tsai was and what his relationship to chicken happened to be, I'd like to know

I don't remember how much it cost, but it probably ended up at around $6 per person, including a couples rounds of Taiwan Beer.

Tom discussing Taiwan's geopolitical vulnerability vis-a-vis China with our waitress. No, no, he was actually ordering a late dinner for us.

We stayed until 2:30 a.m., eating and catching up with each other. When we were done, I hailed a taxi to return to my hotel. On my ride home through the cool, misty night, I saw that many new food vendors had set up grills and stands on the sidewalks. They hadn't been there when we walked over from Tom's neighborhood. It was comforting to see, somehow, all that food on the sidewalk.

December 30th

I woke up early and headed for an area I'd explored a bit the night before. I believe this is Herchiang Street, which is only two blocks from where I was staying. I wandered up and down several blocks of this street at least twice before deciding on this small dumplings shop. The smell of steamed ginger, fresh dumpling dough, and hot soy milk took hold of me and drew me in. By the time I sat down I was salivating like a dog.

My first breakfast in Taiwan. Dumplings!

The woman who ran the restaurant is originally from Malaysia and spoke English fluently. Her dumplings and soy milk were insanely good. And although I told myself not to eat at the same place twice during my six days in Taipei, it's going to be hard to stay away from here.

She suggested a mix of dumplings, and who was I to disagree?

Vegetable dumpling on the left and pork with chopped onions on the right

For the two orders of dumplings and a large cup of hot soy milk, I paid something like 60 Taiwanese dollars, which is just under US$2.

Late that afternoon, after hitting the Fine Arts Museum, a teahouse, and several of Taipei's better-known temples, I returned to Herchiang Street and got a light meal that was an interesting and successful combination of Japanese udon and oden.

This place was called Bodao Mambo (after a popular song, apparently) and also operated a juice bar

The man in the photo above was very nice and spoke English fairly well. The soup pictured below was light and tasty, and only set me back about US$2. It was a perfect antidote to a cold, rainy day like today.

The final product

From what I could gather, Bodao Mambo is located at 102 Herchiang Street, and is open from 7:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m. If you want to call ahead of time, their telephone number is 02-2518-4619.

In the evening I decided to hit Liaoning Market, my first night market in Taipei. Unfortunately, the rainy weather turned worse just as I set out on foot to find it, but that didn't dampen my enthusiasm much. After a twenty minute walk I came across one of Taipei's many versions of food heaven.

Apparently, getting here at 6:00 p.m., as I did, is unfashionable. This places stays open until well after 2 a.m.

The selection here was stunning. Just check out the fish-on-ice display, which would be impressive in a museum much less in a night market. Those fish were so fresh-looking that I could barely stop myself from running inside and biting all their little heads off.

Who knew that stacking fish on ice could be so artistic?

I'm not sure what the restaurant specialized in, but from the rest of the display in front of their dining area it could have been hot-pot.

There were also a few skewer stands with both meat and vegetable selections. I nearly raided this vendor's skewer stash, but since I'd snacked on some skewers the night before I decided to branch out.

I must have walked the length of this market, which spans three long blocks, at least three times before deciding to buy what I can only describe as gyoza-sticks. The people running the place didn’t smile at me a single time, perhaps because they thought I was a suspicious character for having walked back and forth before their entrance a half dozen times before placing an order. The gyoza-sticks were light in flavor, a perfect combination of dumpling dough and pork filling, without the greasy finish one sometimes comes across in the U.S.

What I call gyoza-sticks

The second place I went to was a total crapshoot. I had no idea what they were selling, which was part of the allure, but they were also very friendly, encouraging me to sample their food before committing. They also had a covered interior that looked very warm, which was another factor in my deciding on this place.

Like the woman pictured below, this glass case caught my attention as I walked by. From the fresh fish and octopus to the sake bottles heating up in a basin of water, I had a feeling this might be a good choice.

Unfortunately, the bin pictured below didn't really seem all that appetizing, but I liked the fact that at first glance I couldn't even guess what any of the food was.

At any rate, I pointed to a few items, and two women working there quickly pulled god-knows-what out of the basin and arranged them onto a plate. The older woman poured some peanut sauce on top of everything, ensuring that my meal wouldn't range beyond the most limited of color spectrums. I wasn't exactly thrilled by what she set down before me...until I smelled it.

On the back left of the plate is a slab of boiled, fried tofu, which mixed well with the peanuty sauce; to the immediate right of that is daikon radish, which was incredibly juicy; and to the right of that is what I believe was reconstituted fish with a bittermelon "crust." In the front, as you might be able to guess, was pork wrapped in cabbage, a popular dish in many Chinese restaurants in the U.S. The cost of the meal was less than US$2.

These women were very friendly, and, like everyone I met in Taipei, forgiving of my inability to express what I wanted