In Taipei, Knowing How Little I Know

We were recently in Taipei, working on a food story.

It wasn't our first time in the city; we spent almost 2 weeks there in 2010 and returned in 2011 for a much-too-short few days. After a decent chunk of time living, eating and cooking in and Hong Kong and China -- not to mention eight years now (!) in Malaysia, home to a sizeable Chinese population, you might think I'd have a pretty decent grounding in Chinese cuisine. I speak Mandarin, and read a fair bit of it (though Taiwan's complicated characters do, um, complicate things). So when it comes to charting a gastronomic path in Taipei I'm pretty much all set, right?

Wrong. For me, to be in Taiwan -- and in this most recent case, its capital city -- is to know how little I know about Taiwanese food and, in many respects, the wider world of "Chinese cuisine". Sure, I know niurou mian and dou hua and lu wei, Taiwan's iconic soy sauce-based braise of tofu, meats and offal. I have eaten many an oyster omelette. I am quite familiar with beancurd in all its myriad forms, including "stinky". (And I know for sure that Taiwan boasts the best bean curd in the region). I know how soy sauce is made, I know the difference between rice wine and sorghum and millet liquors (though in truth I enjoy  none of them). When I eat jiaozi (dumplings) and dao shao mian ("knife-cut" noodles) in Taipei I feel a deep connection to Sichuan, where I first ate these delights more than 25 (gulp) years ago. In Taipei's slippery rice noodles I taste elements of the Fujianese cuisine I've come to know through Malaysia's many Hokkien dishes. Taiwan's sweets -- its shaved ices, its flaky, flat round bing stuffed with ingredients sugary or savory or a combination of the two -- are comforting in their familiarity. So too, of course, is the country's very Chinese obsession with pork.

But I could no sooner define Taiwanese food -- that is, the food of Taiwan rather than the food of its indigenous peoples -- than I could east African or Chilean cuisine. The island has a long history; it has absorbed culinary influences from waves of occupation and migration. Taiwan has a large indigeneous population, the descendents of people who lived there long before the Dutch, Chinese or Japanese arrived. And it is still absorbing influences from abroad as far as I can tell, as island nations necessarily do. Taipei is a large, sprawling, mixed-up jumble of a city -- and an incredibly cosmopolitan one at that, especially when you consider that much of the world (and, ahem, the world's food editors) seems not to know, or chooses to ignore, that it exists.

So, though I eagerly accepted this assignment, I landed in Taipei with some trepidation. Eating for yourself is one thing; "defining" the culinary experience of a city for an audience (many of whom will be natives, many of whom will be eager to highlight what's been left out) is quite another. I knew that I knew too little (and I write that as if I could ever know enough about eating in Taipei, or about the food of Taiwan) to chart my own path. So I threw my hands up and relinquished control. Instead of planning a gastronomic itinerary around "must eat" dishes I simply queried locals about what they most liked to eat.

Surprise! I was not led to one single niurou mian stall (I already have my own favorite anyway). No Taipei-an took me out for stinky tofu, sat me down to a steamer full of xiao long bao (soup dumplings), introduced me to their favorite shaved ice or squired me to a night market.

Instead I was treated to many unknown-to-me yet quite common local specialties. All were fabulous; I write with all honesty that I did not consume a single mediocre bite in six days of fairly full-on eating in Taipei. Yet given my word limit, many of my most pleasurable nibbles did not make it into the article.

Here's one: youyu geng (yoh-yoo guhng), or thick soup with squid. Geng are a class of Hakka soups made somewhat viscous with the addition of starch -- tapioca, sweet potato, corn. They're a common street food, seen everywhere in Taipei. Most contain pork. At this third-generation stall near the Gongguan MTR stop opposite Taiwan University (or Taida, as it's known), the medium of protein is squid, and it appears three ways: dried and rehydrated, deep-fried, and ground to a paste that is then formed by hand into rough elongated ovals.

You might call this dish "squid noodles", for the vendors offer yellow noodles, mung bean vermicelli or ban tiao (flat rice noodles) to add to the thick soup. Most diners order their noodles "dry", soup on the side (something often done in Malaysia with Chinese noodle soups like wonton mee and koay teow th'ng).

Why they do so became evident as soon as I slipped my chopsticks into my bowl of yellow noodles and gently turned, releasing a plume of steam heavy with the scent of shallots browned long and slow in lard. The flavor of this sauce was incredible, richer and meatier than the juices leftover from a roast. Add in the freshness of chopped cilantro and the slow-burning heat of the housemade chili sauce, which I added from a jar on our table, and I was eating my most seductive bowl of noodles in recent memory.

As for the gloopy, viscous geng -- I loved it, especially when thinned and soured with white vinegar. The potato starch-thickened stock tasted intensely of seafood, the squid paste balls (more like dumplings, given their odd shape) were full of fresh fish flavor and texturally interesting, with small chunks of squid (as opposed to the silky smoothness of your average fish ball) and the coating on the rafts of fried cephalopod was neither greasy nor too thick. Bonus: the deep-fried squid pieces soaked up the delicious broth like a sponge. The garnish of holy basil leaves was a pleasant, tasty surprise (the herb is a common ingredient on Taiwan.)

I generally avoid soupy dishes in tropical climates, and in general I don't really recommend visiting Taipei during its hot, sticky mid-summer. I was sweating buckets as we ate our geng.

But I'd jump at the opportunity to hop on a plane tomorrow and happily, swelteringly slurp my way through another bowl at at Li Ji Hakka (the shop's name, from a barely visible sign to the left of the serving station).

Thanks to SL (oh, the wonders of Facebook) for taking us to this little gem near Taida.

Li Ji Hakka, 289 Dingzhou Lu Section 3, Taipei. MTR exit: Gongguan.

Comments

[thyme (sarah)]

So fun trying to imagine these dishes that sound so foreign to our Western palate. I love soups so I'm sure I could easily adjust to their varied flavors. Sounds like it was a fabulous (although hot!) trip.

[Albert]

This looks great. I lived near Gongguan when I was little, but was not aware of this 魷魚羹 place, would love to try it next time I go back.

Google map was not able to locate Bochuan Lu, any landmarks or a cross street?

[Susan Marmé]

This is a very interesting post -- that form of soup, geng, is one of the most ancient foods in China, incidentally. This version sounds terrific. Can't wait to hear more about one of my favorite cities and my heart's home :)

[Sticky]

You keep charting territory for our future short regional trips. Taipei quite firmly in next year's list - along with return to your neighbourhood! And Turkey, well....

Thanks alot!

[Katy]

There is something distinctively and indispensable in Taiwanese old time youyu geng that is missing here , by the menu, is the Shacha youyu geng. I had only eaten youyu geng with shacha sauce 沙茶, never otherwise. Shacha in Taiwanese dialect, of course pronounced exactly as Satay. The absence of Shacha here + hand ground, hand shaped fish paste dumpling make it Hakka in Taiwan – Geng unconcerned. That’s my view.

The 3-way squid soup is called ‘zong he youyu geng’ (zong he, assorted, 綜合). You will see ‘zong he’ used in a lot of food in Taiwan – cold platters, shaved ice, juice, anything you want with more than one topping, filling or mixed arrangement.

The main shop is at Ding Zhou Lu section 3, no. 289 (Gongguan); otherwise a Shida branch on Shida Lu intersecting Pucheng Lu 蒲城路. Maybe that’s what you meant Bochuan Lu.

[Robyn]

Sarah, it *was* really too hot, which affects the appetite .... otherwise we had a great time and certainly ate very well! Taipei-ans are super friendly, another great thing about the city.
Albert, see new address, with Katy's help. I must've copied the characters incorrectly.
Thanks for reading Susan, how lucky you are to have lived there. We haven't, but I consider Taipei my favourite city in Asia.
Sticky - we'd gladly meet you there! (But not in the summer.)
Katy, thanks and noted on the address. I did not get to try shacha while in Taipei and this bums me out. We just couldn't fit in a re chao meal (IC suggested we order green veggie with sha cha). Next time.

[Albert]

One thing about 魷魚羹 I want to throw out there is the use of dry fish flakes (like katsuobushi) in the soup, this is likely related to the Japanese stock - dashi, perhaps one of influences from the occupation.

[Mike]

Awesome post. Hope to see more stuff from your recent trip!

[Robyn]

Interesting Albert, thank you! Dunno if they use the flakes in this version but I'll check next time I'm in Taipei (bec I am definitely returning to this stall!).

Thanks Mike! Yes, there will be more posts. Stay tuned.

[Chris]

Not a fan of goopy soup, but reading this made me think of the goopy version available in Msia @ prawn noodle stalls. There is the usual red prawn-y soup with noodles and this other version with thickened dark brown soup and served with chopped garlic and black vinegar.

[Katy]

I was just thinking I hadn’t had noodles ‘dry’ prepared like that when I was living there– not in ‘you mian’ (油麵. We call yellow noodles ‘you mian’ – greased noodle) and not in lard. So googled – indeed this bowl is called ‘Ke jia cong you mian’客家蔥油麵. cong is shallot here. Not only that, Hakka you mian and Taiwanese you mian are made from different process and it is said, Hakka’s is now mass produced and gradually replacing Taiwanese. How is the process different I can’t see, but Hakka’s preserved better in soup, don’t puff or go soft soaked. I reckon the youyu geng in this store 3 generations away would have been a different content and style. I know it is different with your hujiao bing – 30 years ago at the wanhua location and now. Taiwan has gone through a food branding and promoting in the 1990’s resulting in today’s style in both the food that you had. which also may have explained that people living abroad since 1990 would have been unfamiliar with this Hakka geng in this fashion. Li Ji was probably the original name before the brand Hakka youyu geng was promoted.

Hakka you mian is mass produced in Beipu 北埔,near Hsinchu.

You can truly say this youmian dry bowl is Hakka style.

[Mike]

You should visit Taichung. I have a long list of places to send you!!!!

[Robyn]

Me either Chris, the texture is off-putting the flavour of this one was so good. I'm a sucker for anything seafood-ish.
The Malaysian dish you're thinking of is lor mee/loh mee (depending on the sign). The dark gravy is scented with 5 spice, every version is different, some more cinnamon-y, some taste more strongly of star anise, there's always pork and prawn in there and yes, they're served at Hokkien mee stalls. The idea is you can mix the two if you like. A bland loh mee is nothing to be excited about, but a really strong spicy one is nice, especially thinned with the garlic-vinegar and chili sauces served alongside.

I'll keep it in mind, Mike, when we next go to Taiwan!

Katy, I'd love to reproduce that shallot oil. I know it's just shallots cooked slowly but I can't imagine I'd even do it as well as that stall does.

[Michael Czyzewski]

You don't have to worry too much about making cong you if you have a trip to Taiwan planned. When I was last there, I bought a big, homemade jar of it. Literally, it consists of lard and shallots fried in the lard. You can find it at mom and pop shops, although you might have to do a little digging to find it. I bought my jar in Miaoli county...lots of Hakka people there.

[Robyn]

Mike, I really rue not carrying back the jars of lard and lard with cracklings that I saw sold by San Shui market across from Bopilao in Taipei.

[Albert]

All these talk about Taiwanese food is making me hungry and homesick, ha.

I am guessing you also had 蚵仔麵線 on this trip? It is another well known Taiwanese noodle soup thickened with starch. Made with really thin and soft noodle (noodles are usually light brown in color). And as the name implies, it typically has oysters in it, and sometimes pig intestine as well. Dry fish flake (柴魚）is also used in this soup by many if not most vendors.

[Robyn]

Albert, I didn't. There is so much we didn't eat on this trip, time was too tight and, well, I was working! Next trip. I assume the "four gods" soup noodle you see everywhere is also of the starch-thickened genre. This all needs sustained investigation. :)

[Katy]

o-a-mi-soa (Oyster thin noodle蚵仔麵線) and toa-tng-mi-soa (Large intestine thin noodle大腸麵線) are relatives of this Taiwanese thin noodle starched soup. They are commonly offered in one stall accommodating individual preference, but as Albert said, they are served mixed as well (the Hokkien pork and seafood combination). Black vinegar is used here – definitely in the Oyster’s.
As far as I understand – four god soup is a soup, not geng. And it’s herbal – so I assume the thickness in the soup was produced by grains etc – most likely barley. I wouldn’t have thought by sweet potato as is the case in the geng in Taiwan. They may be both thick but they are different class soup I believe. And by the way, not all o-a-mi-soa is starch thickened, resource points out that in Lukang (deer harbour), it is served with clear soup, although the oyster is coated with corn starch before cooked. If four gods soup is starch thickened, maybe of this fashion, for coating, not for the soup base.

[andy]

ahh... my heart aches remembering my mom's youyu geng and oa mi sua. shacha or not, i always had to have multiple bowls.

i haven't been to taiwan since the 100 yr festivities, but looks like i need to plan another trip soon.

[Nicole]

Kudos to finding such unique, interesting foods! I used to live in Taiwan for 15 years and never had squid noodles! How shameful! Glad you enjoyed your culinary trip in Taiwan.

[Ali Bowling]

Taiwan is just one of the Eastern countries I really want to visit because of their cultures and amazingly different foods. YOu are so lucky to have been. Please keep writing about your trips and keep posting recipes on the food from each place...so exciting to read about it. I live vicariously through your travels LOL!

[Wina Chen]

you already know alot!!