Dish

120 DISH

famed pineapple cake. It might not sound

very Asian, but Sophia assures us it’s an iconic

Taiwanese pastry. They’re like mini pies, filled

with candied pineapple and chewable bits of

bitter melon encased in a crumbly, buttery

pastry; they’re surprisingly light but also

dangerously addictive.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a

pleasant blur of sticky rice, noodles, Shanghai

dumplings and the ubiquitous bubble tea,

a Taiwanese invention and probably its

best known culinary export. This sweet

concoction of cold tea, milk and balls of

tapioca or boba, is sold on almost every corner.

“Taiwanese love food with texture, whether

that’s noodles, fish balls or tapioca,” says

Sophia, by way of explanation.

What they also love is tea. Taiwan has been

producing tea, especially the honey-coloured

oolong tea suited to its subtropical climate and

mountainous terrain, for more than 200 years

so it should be good. And it is. Jason Wang

from Wang Tea, which was established in 1890

and is possibly the oldest of Taipei’s 1,000-plus

tea shops, shows us how the delicate roasting

and fermenting process affects the beverage’s

colour and taste.

Then he expertly douses a mound of

charcoal-roasted oolong tea leaves with boiling

water. Slurping from the tiny cups is allowed,

encouraged even, and we’re instructed to hold

the warm liquid in our mouths before slowly

swallowing it, allowing it to caress our throats.

“We believe tea improves the blood circulation,

settles the stomach and helps you sleep,” says

Jason, as I buy packets to take home.

Another eating-related thing Taiwan does

well is night markets. These are the backbone

of Taiwanese food culture and there’s one in

almost every town.

On our last night, we head to Shilin Night

Market, the largest and most famous in all

of Taipei, for one last shot of gastronomic

over-indulgence.

The market’s narrow alleyways are packed

with stalls and everywhere we look food is

being fried, barbecued, skewered or scooped

into plastic bags. There are tables groaning with

bowls of beef noodles, braised milkfish, roasted

potato spirals and gelatinous mochi rice balls,

topped with peanut and sesame shavings.

But the staple of every night market is stinky

tofu. This infamous Taiwanese xaio chi (snack)

begins life as regular tofu which is fermented

in brine until it reaches a putrid ripeness, kind

of like a cross between four-day-old socks and

an open sewer! Cubes are then flash fried and

draped with sweet and spicy sauce.

We hold our noses and nibble at this love-it-

or-hate-it delicacy. Surprisingly, it doesn’t taste

too bad, even if the smell lingers on our clothes

and in our memories longer than we’d liked.

Taiwan might be one of the most under-rated

destinations on the planet, but if you’re looking

for a holiday where lunch rolls seamlessly into

dinner and where the food scene is, as they say,

taking off, then tasty Taiwan is it.

CLOCKWISE, FROM LEFT: Long queues form for

the grilled stuffed leeks at Tainan Garden Market;

you can’t visit Taiwan and not sample the locally

grown tea; Gua Boa, or Taiwanese burgers, are a

staple at Taipei’s Youngchun Market.

Sharon Stephenson was a guest of the Taiwan Tourism

Board (taiwan/net.tw) and Taipei Eats (taipeieats.com)

take a big mouthful and enjoy the intermingling
of sweet, salty and sour flavours.
At the neighbouring betel nut shop, a woman
is painstakingly wrapping the fruit of the palm
tree with betel nut leaves, chewed by users to
give them a buzz on a par with drinking six cups
of coffee. After nicotine, alcohol and coffee,
betel nut is the world’s fourth-most populous
psychoactive substance. I gingerly chew on a
corner but spit it out almost immediately – it
tastes a bit like the green stalk of a leek. But the
bright red stains on the pavement, produced by
users spitting out the juice, indicate that many
locals don’t share my distaste.
By now, five minutes have passed without
eating, so we detour to a bakery to sample the