Much is made of the delights of Taiwan's snack foods - its little eats (小吃) - but the unfortunate truth is that there are only a relatively few places where the true potential of these dishes is realized. One of these establishments, which specializes in food from Ilan county, is Lvsang Canteen. This unpretentious restaurant, inconspicuous among the crowd of restaurants along Yongkang Street, offers many dishes that are readily available at any street-side noodle stand, but in terms of quality, it's a world apart.
Simple dishes such as ang chow pork (紅糟肉), a pork cutlet marinated in red yeast rice, smoked shark (鯊魚煙), or cold cut chicken (白斬雞), show Lvsang's quality immediately. These, among many other dishes are presented at a glass-fronted counter just inside the door, where guests are encouraged to place their orders; more complex dishes are prepared behind the scenes. Some specialty dishes are listed on wooden boards hung from the wall, and regulars will order from memory, but if you request a menu, staff will direct you to the food counter.
Apart from an array of "little eats" regulars, there are also many unusual dishes, some Ilan standards, others showing the strong Japanese influence on Taiwanese cuisine. Many dishes are remarkable for the simplicity of their presentation, such as the blanched squid (現撈透抽), oysters with fried bean paste (豆酥鮮蚵) or the routinely excellent steamed fish (the variety and preparation vary from day to day, depending on what looked best at market that morning). In these dishes, the freshness and quality of the ingredients are allowed to speak for themselves. Other dishes show off the skill of the kitchen staff. Most notable is the humble deep fried tofu (日式炸豆腐), which at Lvsang is prepared with a coating of paper-thin shavings of bonito.
PHOTO: IAN BARTHOLOMEW, TAIPEI TIMES
Also highly recommended are the steamed ground pork with pickle served with a sauce of salted egg yoke (金莎瓜子肉) and stewed pig's intestines in miso soup (味噌大腸).
Most dishes are between NT$120 and NT$180, with a small number of exceptions (the steamed fish is NT$250). Portions are small and two people can easily handle four or five dishes. To fill in the gaps, order a bowl of minced fatty pork over rice (魯肉飯) or soup noodles (切仔麵). Excellent kumquat tea is available for free.
Set menus of rice with sashimi, eel or prawn cakes are also available from NT$160 to NT$200.
Service is brisk, but also courteous and well-informed, and unlike many restaurants of this ilk, there is a strong air of professionalism that leaves you in little doubt that these people take the preparation and serving of outstanding food seriously.
In the next few months tough decisions will need to be made by the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) and their pan-blue allies in the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT). It will reveal just how real their alliance is with actual power at stake. Party founder Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) faced these tough questions, which we explored in part one of this series, “Ko Wen-je, the KMT’s prickly ally,” (Aug. 16, page 12). Ko was open to cooperation, but on his terms. He openly fretted about being “swallowed up” by the KMT, and was keenly aware of the experience of the People’s First Party
Aug. 25 to Aug. 31 Although Mr. Lin (林) had been married to his Japanese wife for a decade, their union was never legally recognized — and even their daughter was officially deemed illegitimate. During the first half of Japanese rule in Taiwan, only marriages between Japanese men and Taiwanese women were valid, unless the Taiwanese husband formally joined a Japanese household. In 1920, Lin took his frustrations directly to the Ministry of Home Affairs: “Since Japan took possession of Taiwan, we have obeyed the government’s directives and committed ourselves to breaking old Qing-era customs. Yet ... our marriages remain unrecognized,
Not long into Mistress Dispeller, a quietly jaw-dropping new documentary from director Elizabeth Lo, the film’s eponymous character lays out her thesis for ridding marriages of troublesome extra lovers. “When someone becomes a mistress,” she says, “it’s because they feel they don’t deserve complete love. She’s the one who needs our help the most.” Wang Zhenxi, a mistress dispeller based in north-central China’s Henan province, is one of a growing number of self-styled professionals who earn a living by intervening in people’s marriages — to “dispel” them of intruders. “I was looking for a love story set in China,” says Lo,
Standing on top of a small mountain, Kim Seung-ho gazes out over an expanse of paddy fields glowing in their autumn gold, the ripening grains swaying gently in the wind. In the distance, North Korea stretches beyond the horizon. “It’s so peaceful,” says the director of the DMZ Ecology Research Institute. “Over there, it used to be an artillery range, but since they stopped firing, the nature has become so beautiful.” The land before him is the demilitarized zone, or DMZ, a strip of land that runs across the Korean peninsula, dividing North and South Korea roughly along the 38th parallel north. This
RSS