Taiwanese Street Food

Right after I graduated from college—the year before I moved to New York City—I spent nine months
in Taiwan teaching English at a University and studying Chinese. I have incredible memories from that time (including that of a street dog, "Pui Pui," I rescued and brought home with me, who just recently passed away after 10 years living the life of luxury with my mother in Florida), and of wonderful friends and students. But what sticks in my mind most from that era of my life is the food. And not just any food, but the street food in particular. I've enjoyed Chinese, Thai, Singaporean, Japanese, Hong Kong street food, but I still think that Taiwan can blow them all out of the water when it comes to on-the-go outdoor nibbling.

In Taiwan, the night market is the quintessential social gathering (just about every town or city has one) for students, groups of young friends and couples, and families to stroll come nightfall and browse racks of clothing, jewelry, and other miscellany while basically stuffing their faces on dozens of delicious snacks. Ok, some of those snacks take awhile to warm up to—and some may never quite appease your western palate (like chou dou fu, literally "stinky tofu"—basically, fermented tofu that's fried and smells literally like vomit). Strangely, the taste is mild, but most of us wai gwo ren (foreigners) can't get over that pungent odor.

But stinky tofu aside, there are some morsels that I'll never forget, and can't seem to ever quite find the exact replica of back home (even in Chinese neighborhoods). One of my absolute favorites was crispy fried squid (think calamari), doused with Chinese five-spice, chili peppers, and grilled Chinese basil (somewhat similar to our basil, yet elusively different). I'm sure it was that indigenous basil-like green that raised this one to regal snack status.

Another favorite: "Tako"—stolen from the Japanese they say, it's baby octopus, splayed flat, grilled in barbecue sauce, and skewered on a stick. Tender, sweet/sour flavored from the sauce—it was a must-have at least a few times a week.

Who doesn't like dumplings? Taiwan has great ones, but especially yummy are the soup dumplings. Basically, you bite into them, and all this gingery soupy heaven fills up your mouth.

Scallion pancakes are classic favorites: oily dough smothered in scallions, they're as addictive as potato chips. Oyster pancakes, on the other hand, may take a little time to get used to, but once you do, you'll be hooked. They're made with egg, oyster, a green leafy veggie, some starch, and are fried up. The consistency is a little gooey, which can be off-putting, but they're so flavorful, especially when they're covered with this sweet and tangy red sauce (that's kind of like the Taiwanese equivalent of ketchup). And Dao shao mien are traditional, perfectly tender, not overcooked,  hand-cut noodles.

Some people get hooked on the grilled chicken's feet, but I couldn't see the appeal. They look funny, and there's virtually no meat. You just suck on these scrawny-looking tootsies. Ditto with the periwinkles. There's meat inside (though scant bits since the shell is no more than a half-inch-long) that you suck out which has been steamed with chili peppers. (Apparently, periwinkles are a classic component of the French Grand Aioli, aka: garlic mayonnaise). Other oddities: eggs boiled in tea water (I did eventually acquire a taste for these) and little candied tomatoes on a stick (kids love 'em). The Chinese and the Taiwanese regard the tomato as a fruit (which technically it is) and therefore accompany it with sweets. It's not uncommon to find a dessert with tomatoes on it. That's a real stretch for me.

But I do recommend the fried glutinous rice balls made from yams (just slightly sweet) and char-roasted ears of corn.

Though, as I said, I haven't found perfect renditions here in the states, there are places where you can get a feel for Taiwanese street food. In New York, Sweet & Tart on Mott Street in Chinatown bills itself as a dim sum restaurant, but it's got more than few decidedly Taiwanese delicacies on the menu. And though I rarely make it to Flushing, Queens, that's the real hotbed of Taiwanese immigrants, so chances are you're bound to find some winners there.

I hear that in downtown San Rafael, California, "Tsing Tao Eric's" does justice to some Taiwanese street snacks: like spicy popcorn chicken and grilled five-spice sausage.

Also, one to check out: Taiwan Restaurant in the Inner Richmond neighborhood of San Francisco Supposedly, they have great scallion pancakes and Taiwanese spare ribs, among many other Taiwanese-style and Chinese offerings.

But really, go visit Taiwan; besides great food, it's where all the best ancient Chinese art is housed (much of it was stealthily moved out of China during the Communist Revolution before Mao's Red Guard got a chance to destroy it), the people are friendly, and there's beautiful countryside and natural wonders to visit when you're tired of shopping and dining in the fast-paced, crowded cities.
Before you do, visit TripConnect's Taiwan page for more info from other travelers and recommended
reading.