The melting pot
Chef and food writer Fuchsia Dunlop takes a gastronomic tour of Taipei.
ON A street corner halfway down Yongkang St in central Taipei, a trio of women fry up zhua bing, gorgeous shreddy circles of hot pastry studded with spring onion, and serve them fresh from the griddle. Opposite, teenagers perch on stools outside a snack bar slurping ‘‘mango avalanches’’ and ‘‘strawberry blizzards’’ – piles of juicy fruit over shaved ice that take the edge off the sultry tropical heat. It’s hard to walk more than a few paces down Yongkang St, or indeed many parts of Taipei, without succumbing to gastronomic temptation.
Taiwan may be a small island, but its eating habits have been shaped by a fascinating history of settlement, colonisation and immigration. Once populated by indigenous tribes, it was settled by immigrants from Fujian in southeastern China from the 15th century, and later by Hakka people from the mainland. Portuguese sailors passed by in the 16th century, and the island was colonised in subsequent centuries by the Dutch, Spanish and Japanese. In 1949, at the end of the Chinese civil war, Chiang Kai-shek and his defeated Nationalist army, along with some 2 million mainlanders – including some of China’s most accomplished chefs – fled to Taiwan.
These days Taipei is a melting pot of regional Chinese cuisines, with a bias towards the refined cooking of Shanghai and eastern China. Most famously, the international Din Tai Fung chain, originally a family business, specialises in what Westerners call ‘‘Shanghai soup dumplings’’ and locals ‘‘xiaolong’’, which it has raised to previously undreamedof levels of perfection. Pick up one of the twirly dumplings, rupture its side with a chopstick and let the exquisite juices flow on to your spoon before you eat.
For more formal Shanghainese dining, Feng Chao-lin’s Small Shanghai Restaurant has a cult following among local gourmets. Here, a banquet might include crucian carp braised with spring onion, belly pork slow-cooked with fermented beancurd or crisp stir-fried shrimps. And the tiny and unassuming Sanfen Suqi, a favourite of local food-writer Chu Chenfan, offers slices of juicy pork neck with a dip of soy sauce, garlic and chilli, a mesmerising version of a Sichuanese classic, as well as ‘‘dry-fried’’ fish, a delicious mix of golden crispness, tender flesh and peppery fragrance.
For Taiwan’s local culinary style, try the Ningxia night market where you can perch at a
Scoff a bowlful of rice covered in a lazy stew of spiced belly pork, or an oyster omelette.
makeshift table and scoff a bowlful of rice covered in a lazy stew of spiced belly pork, a skewer of grilled mullet roe with garlic and radish, or an oyster omelette. Some restaurants bring market food indoors, like Du Hsiao Yeh in Yongkang St, where you can eat a bowlful of ‘‘slack season’’ noodles topped with a rich pork sauce, mashed garlic and a prawn.
It was the Shin Yeh chain that first brought Taiwanese folk cooking upmarket. Head chef Kun-Yin Cheng says: ‘‘We’ve tried to raise its status, using less oil and salt and serving it in a restaurant environment, but keeping the old flavours and the special local ingredients.’’
Shin Yeh is now an international business, serving delicious renditions of classic Taiwan dishes without the rough edges of the night markets. Try, for example, the marvellous soft wheaten pancakes stuffed with warm vegetables spiked with dried fish, coriander and a sweet peanut relish, or, if you’re feeling adventurous, a stew of pig’s kidneys and chicken testicles.
In the South Gate market, traders preside over mouthwatering displays of Jinhua-style ham, dried bamboo shoots and mushrooms, all locally produced. The fresh fruit grown in Taiwan is a highlight of any visit. Market stalls are piled with wax apples, mangos, pineapples and guavas, often served with a powder of preserved plums and salt. And there are growing numbers of organic cafes in Taipei, says food writer Sarah Chen, who met me at one of them, Tanhou, for a breakfast ‘‘enzyme energy soup’’ – glasses piled high with juicy chopped vegetables, dried fruits and seeds, which we ate with a spoon.