The value of soup dumplings (鼎泰豐)

This is it, my triumphant return to blogging. Like herpes, you think I'm gone, but then I come back in the form of a mega cold sore and embarrass you on your wedding day. But we're not here to talk about herpes (at least, not now) we're here to talk about soup dumplings. I recently hopped on a jetplane and returned to the motherland of Taiwan. Over the course of the slightly-less-than-two-hour flight, I did two things: I actively tried to hide my growing erection at the thought of eating real Taiwanese food again, and I built a short checklist of things that I wanted to do. One of my top priorities was to visit 7-11 to marvel at the broad selection of microwave bentos and to revel in in the glory of Hello Kitty memorabilia. Another was to go to multiple nightmarkets so I could experience the roller coaster of pleasures and regrets from my eating decisions. Yet another was to eat at the dopest beef noodle joint in the history of noodles and beef. The last was to drink 18-day Taiwan Beer, which is apparently a thing. One thing I didn't plan on was going to Din Tai Fung (鼎泰豐).

There's a few reasons for that. Historically I've been a real cheap-ass when it comes to food. To put this in perspective, I've walked an extra five miles to a different location of a chain restaurant because I heard they had a cheaper combo meal. Din Tai Fung is consistently more expensive - 200 NT (about $6) for a steamer of 10 - than anywhere else by double. On top of that is the fact that there's almost always a line to get in, and it's not because they're offering a something for free or anything (sorry for the stereotyping, but I firmly believe Chinese people will line up for anything if it's free), it's because everyone and their grandmother associates DTF with soup dumplings. In a nutshell, Din Tai Fung is the antithesis of everything I believe in when it comes to Asian food - long lines, inflated prices, and hype out the asshole.



Except on this trip, there was no line (it was raining) and I did go in, and I realized that my assessment is mostly wrong. I say mostly because the majority of people are still dickweeds who put DTF on a god-tier pedestal.

I will admit, their soup dumplings are the tits. Not life-changing, not inspirational, but just plain good. The skin is borderline translucent (yes, you can see the soup wish-washing around) which is pretty impressive to me considering I can't even boil frozen dumplings without having them break. The filling is adequately rich, but without the overwhelming porkiness that you get from the corner stalls selling them 10 for $2. And of course, there's the soup aspect... I always go into the first bite underestimating their ability to fill a carbohydrate balloon with melted pork fat and I always end up with soup on my pants or on my face. Super hot. Again, there's no denying that their soup dumplings are ridiculously good, I just hate how much people hold them as an absolute benchmark.



You know what is pretty fun though? If you get the crab and pork ones, they'll make a small yellow crab and put it in the steamer so you can tell them apart. Yes, it's made of dough and yes I ate it. No, it did not taste good because it's just a piece of steamed dough with yellow food coloring. You're welcome for not having to replay this experiment. My assessment of the crab one is much the same as the pork one, although I guess I would be disappointed if I paid a premium for it, because it just doesn't taste that much like crab.



You know what DTF's not famous for, like... at all? Dan dan noodles (擔擔麵). So of course it makes sense that I would order this. The thing is, DTF is a nice restaurant of sorts, and I didn't want to be the kind of assclown who goes and takes up a table and orders two orders of 5x soup dumplings. Logically I should have gotten fried rice because - fun fact! - that's what they were famous (along with selling cooking oil) for before some guy decided to make soup dumplings. I'm not logical though, so I got the thing that no one ever orders.



You mix that shit up good and you get this. Which was actually ridiculously good. It's spicy, but not in the traditional Szechuan style of numbing your mouth, it's more of a building heat, which along with the sweetness of the sauce was a solid combo. Not to say that soup dumplings are bland, but this would equate to a good chaser, one that overrides the heavy oil sensation from pork soup.

So where am I on the topic of soup dumplings? I've reassessed my stance on DTF in saying that they're overpriced and overrated. In Taipei, they're priced just fine (which is to say, still lower than every single place I've been to in the US including Joe's Shanghai, Joe's Ginger, Nan Xiang, Shanghai Cafe, etc.), and at that price point, they're hella solid. But it's still not something I feel like I need to do when I go to Taiwan every time. Plus, what fun is it to eat at a place you know you won't get sick in? I live for the thrill of the hunt (for toilets), and DTF just doesn't offer me that.
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A list! (of things I'd eat if I had a week in Taiwan)

Number 1 priority: eat shaved ice desserts. All day. Everyday.

Maybe this post is long overdue, but when a friend of mine told me she was going to visit Taiwan for the first time in a bajillion years, I finally had the impetus to put together a list of "things I would do if I were going to Taiwan for a week that would bring me great arousal that does not include intercourse." If there's one single you should know about me - I enjoy enumerating everything that can be enumerated. Yep. That fact pretty much defines me as a person. But while I really like making lists, I absolutely hate "best of" and "top 10" lists... especially in food blogging. Why? Because food doesn't work that way. Food is personal. If I made a "top 10" list of the tallest buildings in the world, it would be indisputable. If I made a list ranking the best TV dinners in the world... I bet most people would not see eye to eye. So... if you're reading this, take it with a grain of salt. Don't think of it as a must-do list ranking the shit out of the top foods in Taiwan. Just think of it as a rough guide to what an idiot would do if he flew halfway around the world for food. That's all it is.



1. 良品牛肉麵 (Liang Pin beef noodle soup) - Do you want your mind BLOWN? Do you want your shit rocked? Like I said in my old post, if I committed some awful awful heinous crime and was sentenced to the death penalty... and I had to choose my last bite on this earth. It would be this shit. OG, hole-in-the-wall, never good enough to win 1st prize at the annual beef noodle soup competition... all good descriptions of this place. Don't be deceived by that BS competition run by the Taiwanese government - the combination of dope-ass beef broth and sick hand-cut noodles makes for a satisfying bowl of sensual flavors that I have not been able to top since I first tasted it.

Address/Map



2. 一品刀削麵 (Yi Pin knife-shaved noodles) - Do you love scallion pancakes? Ever wonder what it'd be like to eat them in noodle form? Fuck yeah you do, and of course you have. Stir-fry that shit with some mooshu pork, feed it to your grandparents, and they'll be so excited they won't even need Cialis. Just think about it, knife cut noodles with mooshu pork is already delicious - if you sub out the noodles with deep-fried strips of fragrant dough... it's just infinitely better. Why this doesn't exist in NYC... I'm not too sure. But if you're in Taipei you should go eat it.

Address/Map

3. Ice Monster/永康15 - I don't have a post about this, nor do I have a picture of their offering, but this is probably the most famous shaved ice place that Taipei had/has. I've only had it twice, and one of those encounters resulted in hours of ass-end loving with the toilet, but goddamn if they don't churn out an awesome bowl of mango shaved ice. The original owners had a dispute and ultimately closed shop, but 永康15 opened in the same spot in 2010, and the "Mango Avalanche" tastes pretty much the same as the original mango ice. Which is to say sick as hell. If you don't mind a different kind of "juice cleanse" then you should probably go try their dessert.

Map/Address

4. 臺一牛奶大王 (Tai Yi Milk King) - What? You don't want to eat fruit on your shaved ice because it's totally healthy sounding? Werd, I know where you're coming from. Sometimes I just want to eat crushed up ice with red beans, condensed milk, and syrup. None of that vitamin bullshit. In those cases I go to 臺一牛奶大王. Maybe it's not the most hygienic place in Taiwan, and maybe it's not the best looking storefront, but whatever... these bros have been around since when my mom was still a kid. That's a long time ago, seriously. Almost everything's less than 100 NT and they'll pile carbohydrate laden shit on like it's a joke. Go with the classic red bean/oatmeal/mochi combination. That stuff is out of this world dope.

Map/Address



5. 生煎包 (a.k.a. tiny fried buns) - The gist of this section is that you should get them. Wherever you are in Taipei, they're probably fucking delicious. Yes, even that shady-ass old man selling them out of his tiny kitchen. Don't worry, he's most likely not a pedophile. I think. If you want suggestions on where some of my favorites are... DO NOT WORRY - located in 士林夜市 is a kinda famous shop called 原上海生煎包 that sells them 10 NT (like 30 cents) a piece. They are traditional style, and 9 months pregnant with pork juices (ha, I didn't mean for that to sound gross). These are OG style, totally legit, and mega-cheap.

Map/Address

If you prefer your fried tiny buns with a little less pork and a lot more cabbage, then there's another pretty famous stall called 許記 in 師大夜市 that makes a vegetable pork version that's totes adorable and also epic cheap. Like 6 NT a piece cheap. Bonus: the skins are almost as thin as soup dumpling skins, which is pretty fantastic.

Map/Address



6. 基隆廟口(Keelung Temple Street) - I know that Taipei is the tits, and that if you only had a week, there's more than enough stuff to keep even the most ADD riddled kid entertained... BUT, if you have a chance to visit 基隆, I would. It has this sweet-ass street that's basically stall after stall after stall of food. They're famous for their seafood (obvious reason is obvious), so they pimp out incredible versions of tempura (or 甜不辣/天婦羅 whatever you want to call it), but come on... don't tell me you're not seduced by mention of a "nutritious sandwich" - a sandwich built on the platform of doughnut bread, Kewpie mayo, and hotdogs. Yeah.

Map/Address

7. 燒餅油條 from 阜杭豆漿 (Fu Hang soy milk) - Before I talk about how great this place is, I just wanted to reinforce the fact that fried crullers go inside the bread thinger. That's how it goes. Anyway, if you're looking for Taiwanese breakfast, there are few places that do it better than 阜杭豆漿. It's made fresh every morning - with an epic number of senior citizens keeping turnover high - and it is legitimately delicious. I would place it on a whole 'nother level from your standard roadside generic "永和豆漿" place. Their fried cruller/bread combo is pretty spot-on, but if you really want your mind blasted... get their soy milk. It has a pleasant "nutty" aftertaste that you won't find anywhere else.

Map/Address



8. 福州世祖胡椒餅 (HUGE BUNS OF PEPPER PORK) - Holy shit, have you ever wanted to eat giant buns of peppered pork? Probably not, since it's not something that you come across in the US very often. These things are basically just like over-sized meat buns... except instead of a pillowy soft exteriors, they replace that with a baked bread shell dotted with sesames and other sexual flavoring things. Then, instead of having plain pork and chives or whatever inside, they step it up and shove in a bunch of garlic, peppers, and scallions to make it slightly spicy. Also they're essentially cooked in a trashcan fire. Which I guess makes it better? To me it does anyway. The point is, if you like having your proteins encompassed by carbs, then you should eat this too.

Map/Address



9. Stinky tofu from 深坑 - This probably isn't a suggestion for everyone - by which I mean, if you're a complete priss about eating things that taste rotten, you probably won't like this suggestion very much. Anyway, I realize that you can get stinky tofu pretty much anywhere in Taipei. Why the hell would you take a bus to the boonies to get rotten soy product? Because it's ape-shit delicious here. That's why. 深坑 is pretty renowned for making tofu, and when it comes to putting mold on good tofu, they're pretty good at that too. If regular stinky tofu ain't your jam, maybe the ones at 金大鼎 will stimulate your taste buds a bit more. Instead of straight frying it or putting it in soup, they basically treat it the same as pig's blood cake - coating it a sweet sugary soy sauce, rolling it around in peanut flour, and dressing it with cilantro. The end result is a somewhat sweet and savory flavor profile that has the scent of a slightly pungent wet fart. Maybe you don't like that. I don't care. I do.

Map/Address



10. Fast Food - I know what you're thinking: "Seriously? Are you retarded? I didn't fly halfway around the world to eat at McD's and shit like that. I'm done reading your stupid blog. Goodbye." I did hit my head today, but that's not why I'm making this suggestion. Listen, don't be one of those assclowns with sticks in their butts who frown on fast food. Maybe you're disenchanted with Burger King in the US, but let me tell you something. In Asia? They don't fuck around when it comes to fast food. Whether it be egg tarts from KFC, shrimp burgers from Mos Burger, or bear doughnuts from Mister Donut, Asian fast food is legit different, and in many cases baller as fuck. I mean, where else in the world could you ever find doughnuts shaped like motherfucking bears? Nowhere. That's where.

So there's that - a list of things I would eat if I had a week to spend in Taiwan. Not that this list is comprehensive at all of the things I'd like to eat (I purposefully left off the obvious suggestions like 鼎泰豐, 淡水, and 士林夜市), but it's a start. If you don't agree with something on here... that's fine. I don't really care. This was originally meant as an email for my friend, not a post, but others have asked... so I figured I might as well copy + paste my ramblings for everyone to see.

tl;dr - if you're in Taiwan, this is shit that you might like to eat. By which I really mean, this is partial a list of things I would like to eat if I were in Taiwan. You should listen to me, I'm Chinese. Fact.
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Boneless roast Thai chicken (珍口味)

With my brain hardwired to go ape shit when I see things like beef noodle soup and shaved ice, I have a tendency to forget that Taiwan is also home to plenty of fantastic South East Asian restaurants. Given their culinary prowess and close proximity to Vietnam, Thailand, Singapore, etc. it would make sense that there's a fair number of these places around. Ignoring everything my brain was telling me to do, the last place I ate at in Taiwan (no, the Burger King in the airport doesn't count) was actually a restaurant specializing in boneless roast Thai chicken... and you know what? I don't think I regret that decision at all.

Where from you ask? The shop, called 珍口味 (zhen kou wei), was located in 師大夜市 (Shida Night Market). Nestled in a small nook the size of a studio apartment on the side of the main street, I'm not entirely sure what possessed me to stumble inside. It might've been the giant oven/fire pit they had roasting numerous boneless chicken legs at once, or it might've been the cheap ass prices they had listed on their menu outside (everything was like 65 NT! ~$2), whatever it was, all I can say is... this place is fuggin' awesome.

The roast chicken is entirely scintillating. A juicy slice of meat (which they claim to be entirely chicken leg) is flattened and roasted, skin on, inside a giant box of flames. Seared to perfection, the amount of charring is balanced delicately by the areas of skin that remain ever so soft. Glazed with a sweet soy garlic sauce, the crust is as tantalizing as anything I've ever eaten. The meat is succulent and tender, coated in a thin layer of oil from the skin itself. Absolutely terrific would be the only appropriate description. The sides are nondescript, but who the fuck cares when you can make chicken taste like that? Not me, and neither should you.



Don't be deceived by the aesthetics here, since let's be honest, it looks pretty awful (and I'm probably partially to blame for that). It's Thai coconut curry chicken, and it was decently tasty. Not "holy shit, I'd punt a baby kitten if I could have this" good, but I wouldn't turn down a bowl right now. The chicken was just as tender as the ones in the roast variant, but this time it was immersed in an oily sauce of super pungent curry, which had a slight hint of ginger. Drizzled over a bowl of white rice, it's a simple (and guilty) pleasure. Now, is this gonna make me a Thai food addict? I don't know if I'd go that far (it's like betraying beef noodles or something), but shit, I'd be lying if I said that chicken wasn't something else.

For all of you who hate my postings about Taiwan since you can't actually ever eat at any of those places, rejoice. To everyone else, it's okay to cry... I won't judge.
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Soup dumplings and fried rice (鼎泰豐)

Little known fact, the super famous soup dumpling joint 鼎泰豐 (Ding Tai Feng) was founded by a Hakka couple. Bonus fact on top of that, when they first started, they weren't even supposed to serve soup dumplings, they sold freaking cooking oil and ran a fried rice restaurant. It was only after someone made a random request did they start to make 小籠包, and well... it was history after that. They turned mega successful, and started pimping soup dumplings left and right until they couldn't make them fast enough. Baller status... achieved.



I've actually wanted to make a post about this place for the longest time, but you know what was stopping me? The fact that I felt they were so grossly overrated and overpriced that I could never bring myself to visit. Now before people flip out and plan out how to crucify me, hear me out. I actually think their soup dumplings are absolutely titillatingly good. There's no question their soup dumplings are the bees knees when it comes to pockets of carb stuffed with pork. The problem that exists is that people have come to make them out to be something their not. Foreigners will travel from all over Asia to try these things, and to be honest... they're not that phenomenally special. So when I say they're overrated, it's not because I think they're lacking, I just don't know if they're worth international acclaim. Problem two is kind of similar in that their pricing is absurd (for Taiwan). At 190 NT ($6) for a steamer of 10, they're more than 3x the going rate as other places. I realize in terms of quality, there's quite a gap, but come on... really? Fuck, if you're making me choose between 32 pockets of above average dumplings and 10 really good ones, I'm going value 10 times out of 10.



In all seriousness though, if you didn't make me pay for it myself, these are pretty much the greatest little treasures ever. Thinly skinned, bordering on transparency, grasping without puncturing is almost a thing of art. The pork is juicy beyond my abilities to describe, and the soup content is immeasurable with traditional soup spoons. Oh lordy, special... they are. Mmm, where am I going with this? I don't know. I want to hate them, I want to love them, I don't know what tell you. I just thought I'd write about the famous little soup dumpling place that everyone loves, and that I haven't visited for years.

Edit: I just realized I never talked about the quality of their fried rice, despite making a tangent about how they were originally a specialty shop. The dish was appropriately oily, and somehow, defying logic, the individual grains stuck together in spite of this coating. Honestly though, I don't know how to evaluate fried rice objectively. It's something that's pretty hard for even amateurs to screw up, so I doubt the chefs at 鼎泰豐 will bust out an unsatisfactory dish. With that said, I finished it without complaints, so it was okay in my book... still overpriced.
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Lion's head noodles (麵對餡實小麵館)

One of the great things I appreciate about the Chinese language is the wit and subtlety within which it operates. Sure, in English, clever puns exist too, but you have to realize that within the lexicon of the Chinese language, homonyms are much more frequent, and idioms are just as abundant... so yeah. On that note, I'd like to mention a restaurant that I felt obligated to visit on the sheer cleverness of its name alone, 麵對餡實小麵館. It has the pinyin of 'Mian4 Dui4 Xian4 Shi2,' with characters that match a phrase that translates roughly to 'noodles done right with excellent ingredients,' but the more obvious phonetic translation would be to 'face the facts.' That's Sherlock Holmes level wit right there, but no amount of wordplay can save a restaurant from lackluster food.



Thank goodness they're pretty famous for their noodles too. Having no clue what the phrase 'in moderation' means, I started off with an order of 蔥油辣麵. Without giving any background, the literal translation is basically spicy oil noodles (similar to 擔擔麵, but with a thicker and less soup like sauce). Basically a sweet and spicy sauce is poured over a dish of hand pulled noodles, a giant handful of minced garlic is thrown on, and finally finished with a helping of cilantro. Freakin' phenomenal. For, I think, 55 NT (~$1.75) it makes for a pretty fulfilling meal. The hand pulled noodles were spot on in texture, and the sauce was absolutely sublime. Just sweet enough for you to look forward to coating each bite, but spicy enough for you to be slightly hesitant in doing so, it's truly the perfect tease. I probably would've been fulfilled having this alone, but then again... I knew this wasn't the star of the show here.



This is. The famous lion's head noodles. I forget how much it cost (maybe ballpark ~120 NT, but I'm pretty much pulling that figure out of my ass), but you know what? It doesn't matter. This dish was good enough to make the 蔥油辣麵 look like a sad consolation prize. If I had to explain, this was one of those instances where I really didn't care that I spent more than 100 NT on a meal (yes I'm a cheapskate). If you're unfamiliar with what lion's head meatballs are, have a quick read on Wiki. Basically, you're given a giant pot of noodles, cabbage, and two of these monstrous fried meatballs roughly 3" in diameter, all immersed in one of the richest pork broths I've ever put to my lips. Heavenly, would be the only way I can think to describe it. The post meal experience of licking my lips was as if I had just made out with strips of freshly fried bacon for several minutes prior. To a guy like me, that's pure bliss (yeah I'm weird).



At the end of my meal I was greeted with this awesome check. Or I guess I should say 'chit.' It's definitely true that Chinese is a beautifully complex language, but I guess it's no match for simple English haha.
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Ramen from a chain (甘泉魚麵)

Speaking of ramen... I just don't get it. It's not like there's not a lack of a market for ramen in America. People love it... from the rich, hearty broths, to the delightfully springy noodles. There's something for everyone when it comes to ramen (that is, unless you have some odd patriotic reasoning that prohibits you from eating Japanese food). So how come in Taiwan, they can have chain ramen restaurants, that can churn out consistently good ramen, while we have to settle for hit or miss ramen more often than not (a few select establishments notwithstanding)? Case in point? A joint called 甘泉魚麵 (Gan Quan Yu Mian), which can put more than a fair share of NYC ramen places to shame.

Fuck yeah, never have I ever... had spicy Szechuan pork ramen. For just 110 NT (~$3.75) you get a bowl of fantastic pork broth impregnated by chili oil. Hiding in the soup is fatty pork sliced so thinly that upon cooking, it actually curls onto itself, delicate cubes of firm tofu that just soak up the flavors, and a spattering of crunchy greens to balance out the overpowering nature of the spiciness. As for the noodles... they carry the consistency of extra thin hand pulled noodles, superbly springy and playfully chewy. No, this certainly isn't a bowl of ramen for the traditionalists, that is, if you can even call this truly ramen. What I do know, is that it tastes fantastically kick ass, with a certain feisty aspect that I normally associate with beef noodle soup, but with a lighter touch.



I forget how much the plain hakata ramen was... not that it really matters, in the end it's a matter of cents on the dollar. I felt obliged to get it just because excellent hakata ramen is a veritable white whale of mine. I don't think I'll ever find a bowl that can live up to my unrealistic expectations of creamy bone thickened broth and lightly charred pork glistening in fat. Theirs was good, nothing spectacular, but for no more than $4, there's absolutely no reason for any complaining. Basically, I didn't look very hard for good ramen in Taipei, but the ones I found were all pretty good.

Now that the food is out of the way, let me spew some useless opinions about ramen in the US vs. ramen in Taiwan. First point of contention... price. I realize this isn't exactly a fair fight, like David vs. Goliath, but come on. The average pricing is ~115 NT ($4) for a giant bowl of above average ramen. I consistently pay between $15-20 in NYC. If every bowl that I tried in America was undeniably incredible, I'd have no gripes. I mean, I can understand that location matters, but when you churn out something that's below the standard of a chain restaurant in Taiwan, and want to charge me 3x the cost just because you're in Manhattan? Sorry, that's just not cool. Now I know some people will tell me that I'm an idiot, and that I'm ignoring the fact that I paid $1000 for a plane ticket to gain access to all this food. This is true, but this is also my blog... so I'm going to ignore that tidbit and consider all else equal because I can.
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基隆廟口's best of the rest...

I know what you're thinking... "is he still talking about that stupid seaport? God I wish he'd shut up already." Sorry. Wait, no I'm not. I guess I could've written about 基隆廟口 in a singular long post, but I feel like that would be an insult to each and every incredible shop located there. They're all tremendously unique, and they all deserve their spot in the limelight (even one as weak as my blog). Combine that with the fact that I have the attention span of a goldfish and you'd have a recipe for disaster. Basically you'd get more rambling and made up words than anyone should have to put up with. Anyway, here's a condensed 'best of the rest' post for things I put in my mouth at Keelung.

Stall #55... home of 螃蟹羹, otherwise known as crab 'geng.' Without rehashing a full explanation of what 'geng' is (read here), this stall serves up a crab meat variant. Like Goldilocks said about the stupid porridge, theirs is neither too thick, nor too thin, existing at equilibrium at just the right consistency for slurping with minimal effort. The mushrooms were forgettable, but everything else was spot on. The bamboo shoots were remarkably tender, the cilantro and garlic were playfully complementary in flavor, and the crab meat with fish paste was absolutely sublime. I won't ruin the description by making up fake words to describe how delicious this was, but all I know is for 55 NT ($1.75), you can buy soup that'd put your grandmother's secret recipe to shame. No offense to your grandmothers.



Still from stall #55, is a single serving of 油飯 or oily rice. They're not really famous for this, but it was 25 NT (75 cents). It just seemed like a good value. Besides, you know how Chinese people are... we fucking love rice. Obviously, if I bought soup, I was going to get rice in some capacity. Theirs was pretty average. Nothing really out of the ordinary, just short grain rice cooked with plenty of oil, mushrooms, pork, and shrimp. Nope, what made me decide to mention this was their accompanying orange sauce. I'm not really sure how to explain what it is (you'll see later that it shows up pretty often), but basically it's a thick, citrus flavored sauce (miso based maybe?), that you can slather on just about anything. For reals, I drowned my bowl of rice in this sauce, and oh it delivered.



Hell yeah son, return of sauce! Stall #60 serves up something called 油蔥粿 for 35 NT (just over $1), which is really just taro cake. Another instance of things being lost in translation, this isn't the kind that fat kids like, but rather a savory 糕 kind of cake, like turnip cake. They serve this two ways, either fried or straight from the steamer. Clearly I didn't make the ordering decisions here, as the version I got was steamed, but in the end it doesn't really matter. Having the consistency of a fresh and jiggly rice cake, you have a soft and tender block of... stuff, with the slightest hint of taro flavor. That probably doesn't sound overly appetizing on its own, but the redeeming factor, again, is the sauce. It's like liquid crack that you can pour on everything. Slightly tangy with a long lasting sweetness, this is the stuff of legend. When combined with the steamed block of taro, you get both components of supreme texture and flavor i.e. pure and unadulterated win.

As far as 基隆廟口 goes, I'm sure I only scratched the surface (I wish I were a cow, since then I'd have 3 stomachs), but if a preliminary sampling of random food all turned out this well, I get kind of scared thinking about the potential in the other 50 some odd stalls.
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天婦羅 tian fu luo (基隆廟口)

I might've already written about the 'Nutritious Sandwich,' but there's so much more to 基隆廟口 than just that (I just got really excited to share the doughnut mayonnaise sandwich with the world, so I posted that individually). Anyway, Keelung's Temple Street is basically a commercialized night market that operates during the day. Each shop has a numbered stall for easy navigation, and you're basically confronted by a 200 meter street that's just stall after stall after stall of some of the most mind blowing Taiwanese food you'll ever find. It's like a food festival... that exists permanently.

If there's one thing that this place is renowned for though, it's their 天婦羅 (tian fu luo), which is basically an over-sized chunk of tempura, that gets sliced into strips, and drizzled with sweet miso soy sauce (see here for another example).



Giant ball of dough! No, in actuality, that's a giant hunk of fish paste. It has the consistency of a super wet dough, sans the stickiness. I know this because I poked my finger in it. I was immediately yelled at for doing this, at which point I pretended to not speak Chinese. Situation diffused. Anyway, the next step in delivering heavenly tempura to my mouth is to take chunks of fish paste and...



Deep fry it. Of course that's the natural progression of things. Everything tastes better fried, so why would fish paste be any different. I have to give serious props to the guy cooking the 天婦羅, since there were a fair number of customers, and more chunks of fish paste frying simultaneously than I'd care to deal with. Anyway, somehow he manages to keep track of frying order (and time!), removing them all with the same characteristic golden hue of perfection.



That's some serious shit right there. So good it should be illegal. Fried to just the right consistency, the outer shell is, at the same time, crisp, yet soft. As if there were miniature pockets of texture interlaced on top of a smooth macro structure. Like a fractal (oh noes... math!). The center carries with it a resilient bounciness, a stretch factor that's firm enough to provide a distinct feel, but not a rubbery sensation. In terms of taste? Absolutely phenomenal. The light flavoring, similar to any whitefish, is complemented by the indescribable taste of tempura oil. Add to that equation a thin sweet soy, which had a slight citrus accent, and you have a dish that's absolutely marvelous, and something you honestly can't find anywhere else... even in Taiwan. Oh yeah... the best part? That dish is 30 NT... that's less than $1. Damn.
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Nutritious Sandwich (基隆廟口)

You'd be hard pressed to find a sandwich that gets me more excited than the creation found at the 58th stall in 基隆廟口 (Keelung Temple Street), and let's be honest... I've eaten a lot of sandwiches. Some people might consider it an abomination, a culinary sin of sorts, but not me. This is the ultimate culmination of flavors, the evolution of everything Asian people love, and a legitimate slap in the face to your cardiologist, all in an easy to carry form factor. It is the 營養三明治, better known in English as... the 'Nutritious Sandwich.'



For just 55 NT ($1.60), you get a small piece of culinary perfection. Each of the components are chosen carefully... starting with the bun, you get a deep fried doughnut base, just like those you'd find with curry pan, deliciously light and airy, with a subtle hint of sweetness in the ever so chewy dough. In the vacancy of the bread, a thick layer of Kewpie mayo is spread. I don't think I need to explain why this is awesome to the nth degree, it just is. Next came the toppings, a fried and sliced hotdog fluorescent pink in color, half a soy sauce egg, and a few slivers of cucumber and tomatoes (see? It is nutritious).

The flavors blend together in a truly sublime fashion. The sweetness of the doughnut bun is amplified by the slight tartness of the Kewpie mayo. The soy sauce egg and hotdog add the savory component to the equation, with the cucumber and tomatoes being refreshers, in what would otherwise be way too overwhelming for your mouth to handle. Texturally, it's magnificent in every way. The breading on the doughnut is crisp and light, the mayo is smooth beyond belief, with a secondary crunch from the vegetables. Honestly, at this point, there's little more that I can say that would actually do this sandwich justice. So I'll stop here, and leave you either desperately wanting... or thoroughly disgusted.
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More pork buns (許記生煎包)

Look! A crowd. Always a welcome sight when it comes to food in Asia. Yes I'm sure this post feels kinda like deva ju since it seems I just wrote about these baby pan-fried pork buns last month, but this cart is different (ha, I feel like I write that all the time). Nope, in the case of the Shilin Night Market shop, their buns were moderately thick skinned, juicy pockets of pure pork. A meat bun at its finest. This cart 許記 (Xu Ji), found nestled in 師大夜市 (Shida Night Market), has a slight twist on the interpretation of 生煎包. They use a skin only marginally thicker than that of a soup dumpling and fill it with a blend of pork and cabbage, half and half, resulting in what can basically be considered a juicier, fatter potsticker. Interested yet?



Everything is handled outside and done on hand on the small counter that's formed by their cart (I'm pretty sure it's not really clean). Also, no one's wearing gloves, but it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that they can churn out hundreds, if not thousands, of these pockets of pork and cabbage deliciousness per hour, just to keep up with the demand. I can only imagine how quickly this place would get shutdown by the department of health if it were in NYC...



Know how much the box of 12 cost? All of 72 NT ($2.25). If you think about this on a per bun basis, that's 6 NT for a bun/dumpling hybrid that could put most places in the US to shame. That's less than 20 cents per bite of sunshine, happiness, and everything that's good in the world. It's less than a quarter for 20 seconds of pure bliss. It's like a gateway drug of sorts, except instead of getting arrested, you just get fat.



A closer look, just so you can appreciate the subtle charring that's present across every single one of these puppies, uniform too. The glistening of the skins should give an indication of just how moist/oil-laden these fried buns are, and I think the juice content should be somewhat obvious given the shape as well. If anyone's wondering which place is better for 生煎包... there's no comparison, these two aren't replacements for each other, they're both spectacular in their own way.

Side note... I've become a champion of ambidextrous chopstick usage since I need my right hand for pictures. Thanks food writing, useless skill attained!
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Breakfast for champions (大台北豆漿大王)

Breakfast in Taiwan. Serious business it is. Something that makes me tremendously sad is the idea of breakfast in the US. Despite my great love for pancakes, waffles, eggs, and sausages, I just don't see how it can compete with that. What's that you ask? It's sliced honey barbecue pork rolled inside of an egg scallion pancake. Yeah, take a second to process the combination of all those words, it's actually mind boggling. A thin, almost crepe like pancake dotted with scallions gets married to a layer of egg, then tender pork roasted with a honey soy glaze gets shoved inside. Complicated? No. Delicious? Oh yeah, and all for 30 NT (less than $1).



but holy shit Batman, there's more! Did you know... that soup dumplings are an acceptable breakfast food in Taiwan? True story. The fact that these were only like 50 NT for a steamer of 8 makes it even more incredible. Let's put this in perspective for a moment, 8 soup dumplings for $1.60 is just... well, awesome. Again, for $1.60 in the US, I could get a muffin. Maybe. These weren't terrific (though I didn't expect them to be). There's the little nub of dough at the pinch point, and there wasn't really an explosion of soup, but if you're complaining about something as insignificant as that, then your life is perfect in every aspect, and you should probably just go die.



Rice ball! Wrapped with a fried egg because it's healthy. For 35 NT (a shade over $1) you get a torpedo of rice stuffed with a double fried 油條 (fried cruller), peanut flour, and pork floss. The normal combination of sweet, savory, crispy, and soft, all in a portable package of double fried goodness.



Cross section. The fried cruller is quite a bit darker than a normal one, since it is double fried. It has to be though, otherwise you're left pulling and tugging on the fried strip of carbs until your left with an empty and sad shell of rice. It'd be the saddest 飯團 in the world. Ever. Still, their version is good. It's not always piping hot, since they make them in advance and put them out, but the flavors are all there, the textures are spot on. Maybe they went a bit hardcore with the peppers (it's unusually spicy), but that might be one of its charms.



As far as the regular 燒餅油條 (shao bing you tiao)... just skip it. True it's cheaper than most other places, but I feel like this is something that should be eaten fresh from the fryer, with a pillowy pocket of dough straight from the oven. Like their 飯團, they make these advance, wrap 'em, and put them out on a warming plate. By the time I got to it, the cruller wasn't oily, and the 燒餅 was all flaky, and not at all moist. Disappointing to say the least, from a place that does breakfast so damn well in all other aspects.

Oh yeah, where to get all this? From a joint called 大台北豆漿大王 (Big Taipei Soy Milk King), located on 南海路. They have messed up hours... they're only open from 6 pm to 10:30 am. For reals though, Taiwanese people don't joke around with their breakfast.
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Tofu pudding and more tofu pudding (豆花莊)

There's something about tofu pudding that never gets old. It might be the fact that the tofu portion is so freakin' jiggly and smooth and is fun to play with, or it might be the fact that you can top it with whatever the fuck you want, but it's most likely the fact that you basically get to drink a bowl of straight syrup, which is just awesome. Yes, I'm the kid that got yelled at as a kid for drinking syrup from the bottle, so of course I'd love it. Naturally, I justify this by telling myself that some of the toppings are good for you, and that I'm essentially eating tofu... which in itself is wonderfully healthy. Basically I lie to myself, but I don't really care. If I see a 豆花 place, it's basically like the attraction of a flame to moth... I just can't help it.

This is another thing that 遼寧夜市 (Liao Ning Night Market) is crazy sick at, by the way. Anyway, the most legitimate of 豆花 places in the night market is an establishment that goes by the name of 豆花莊 or 'Dou Hua Pavilion,' and yes... all they serve is tofu pudding. They take their pudding seriously. The bowl above is the traditional peanut laden tofu pudding, which is the standard for me. Super soft peanut stewed in sugar syrup is spread across slivers of tofu pudding and served in a pool of simple syrup (no ginger flavoring here). Their version is pretty remarkable, although, I say that about almost every tofu pudding place... so that that with a grain of salt. The tofu was about as smooth as I've ever had, with a strong soy flavor still present, the peanuts were soft to the point of being creamy, and the syrup... well, come on, it's syrup for crying out loud, of course it was good. Served chilled for 30 NT (LESS THAN $1), I don't think anyone would find reason to complain.



And... their 3 color tofu pudding. In an instance where there's actually even less nutritional content to speak of, they spread 蒟蒻, basically multicolored jelly things, on top of the tofu pudding. These are flavored with fruits, taro, or sweet potato depending on the color, and are basically just like firmer pieces of jello. They don't really taste like what they should, but they add a nice textural contrast to the otherwise smooth and creamy tofu, and of course because it looks ballin'. Again... served with shaved ice in a bath of syrup, and still 30 NT. Honestly, there's not much to complain about here.
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Pork scallion pancake rolls (鴻記)

I think we've already established that you can wrap pretty much anything in scallion pancakes. Now, I might seem like an idiot for pimping scallion pancake rolls so hard, but these are different, I swear... so just bear with me. In the other case, the scallion pancakes are pan fried to a perfectly delicious combination of greasy and crisp, but here... you have scallion pancakes that are light, airy, and soft (still greasy though), a complete contrast in both flavor and texture, but that's not the only difference. In the traditional sense, you would always wrap roast meats inside, be it pork or beef, but here... they use Japanese style teppanyaki meats. Basically, you get the best of both worlds... sizzling juicy meats, pan-fried vegetables, and sauce, with a wrapper that can soak up all the flavor. Un... freakin... believable.

For 50 NT (+5 NT for an egg fried onto your scallion pancake, and honestly it'd be kind of silly not to...) you can get plate of pure deliciousness for less than $2. Think about that. You can't even buy a hot dog at 7-11 in America for $2. Seems really unfair right? Anyway, the wrap gets sliced into 6 pieces, and you're given a plate of sushi like bits, and a bottle of panda sauce. Slather it on thick, and you're good to go. It's definitely a unique flavor, with a spongy, yet flavorful wrapper containing an explosion of meats and juices. The teppanyaki is pretty damn good for coming from a cart, it's heavy on the pepper, but still exceptionally well balanced in the flavor department. The combination of the two makes for a union of tastes suitable for a fairytale. Not gonna lie, this is the stuff of legends...



Now I know what you're thinking... "holy shit bro, where can I get this culinary orgasm if I might happen to fly halfway around the world and end up in Taipei, Taiwan by sheer coincidence?" Yet again, it's a stall from 寧夏夜市 (Ning Xia Night Market), which is quickly becoming my favorite btw, called 鴻記蔥餅捲 (Hong Ji Scallion Pancake Wraps). That's right, it's a cart specializing in wrapping meats with scallion pancakes... what more could a guy want in life? Absolutely nothing.
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Oyster omelettes (圓環邊蚵仔煎)

Normally I joke around about food (because food should make you happy of course), but when it comes to 蚵仔煎(oyster omelettes), it's serious business. I never really explained this very well, but here goes. If a truck full of fresh oysters ran into another truck carrying chicken eggs, and that collision caused another truck full of potato starch to crash, and some random passerby sprinkles perfectly cut spring scallions and cabbage on the mix, and the giant mixture of random ingredients cooked on a super hot section of a road, well then you'd end up with oyster pancakes. Or something like that...? In all honesty, I have no clue how it's made, and I don't really care. I just know that this shit is bananas, and that my knees go weak when I see it.



Of course, if you want a truly sublime experience, go where the locals do. Sure I could've taken the easy way out and just gone to 西門町 or 士林夜市 and gotten any of a number of generic renditions, but what's the point? Yeah they're all good, but this dish has the ability to be magical. Instead, I went to 寧夏夜市 (Ning Xia Night Market)... to a shop called 圓環邊蚵仔煎, which translates to 'Yuan Huan Side Oyster Omelettes.' I mean come on... they've been cranking out oyster omelettes for 45 years already, I'm pretty sure they know more than that 25 year old college kid working part-time in 士林.



Damn. Look at him. He's so OLD! This is the OG-san that made my omelettes. Just look at his face. That's the face of a man that just don't give a fuck. All he wants to do is flip his omelettes. I will admit I was kind of worried that his sweat was dripping onto the plate, but I guess that comes with the experience. I mean, I honestly don't care so long as it tastes good. Oh, and good it was. Perfectly cooked, the pancake was slightly unsettled, with the potato starch reaching a chewy gelatin-mochi like consistency. The oysters were all still jiggly, for lack of a better word, and the flavor was just spot on. Normally, I'd lather this in the slightly sweet soy miso sauce, but this one didn't need it. For 60 NT ($2), it was probably the best oyster omelette I've had in Taiwan... ever. How's that for an endorsement?



I also ordered a serving of 排骨湯 (pork chop soup) for 50 NT (~$1.60), in which you take a fried pork chop, dice it up into smaller pieces with the bone still attached, and put it in pork broth with daikon radishes. While that sounds awesome if I just list the ingredients... it wasn't. The pork broth was stewed using 中藥, which translates to Chinese medicine. If you know what that is, I'm sorry, since you were probably forced to drink it as a kid. If you don't, it's medicinal bags of herbs that parents put into soup that has a uniquely awful aftertaste. Well yeah, this place did that to the pork chop soup. Thanks. You ruined something that probably would've been splendid.
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