When Hsieh Hsiao-man (謝小曼) decided to leave the corporate world, she went back home — literally. She is the owner of Hsiao Man (小慢), a teahouse, restaurant and clothing store that operates in her childhood home near National Taiwan Normal University (國立臺灣師範大學, also known as Shida, 師大).
Though Hsiao Man is just steps away from the bustling Shida night market (師大夜市), the quiet space seems like it is a world apart. Located on the ground floor of an apartment building, the exterior of the teahouse is lined with a slate tile overhang; a short stone path leads up to a wooden door hidden by small trees and flowering shrubs. The only way passersby can tell Hsiao Man is a place of business is an unobtrusive wooden sign and tiny table with a small batch of name cards.
“My guests always tell me that they walked by Hsiao Man for years without even realizing we are here,” says Hsieh, adding that most of her customers find out about the teahouse through word of mouth.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Opened in 2007, the teahouse’s name is a play on Hsieh’s given name and literally means “little slow.” The building was constructed about 40 years ago and Hsiao Man’s stone floors and wooden beams are original. Its interior is furnished with a mixture of antique pieces and tables custom-built from recycled wood. Aside from a few lamps that cast a warm glow, most of the light filters in from large wood-framed windows.
“I want to create a place where guests can come in, experience a relaxed, slower-paced atmosphere and have to a chance to breathe,” Hsieh says.
Before opening Hsiao Man, she spent seven years in Japan, where she studied fashion design and worked in marketing and research at Seibu Department Store. After returning to Taipei, Hsieh was employed at a bank when she attended a gathering of tea enthusiasts. Seventy-eight booths were set up, each featuring a different type of tea and decorated to reflect the host’s personal aesthetic.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
“That event had a huge influence on me,” says Hsieh. “I found out that tea could not only be good to drink, but also beautiful and quiet at the same time.”
To Hsieh, sharing tea with friends and taking the time to enjoy its subtle aroma are small acts that represent a larger attitude toward life.
“It’s about wabi-sabi,” says Hsieh, referring to a Japanese term that means focusing on the beauty in imperfection. “It’s about simplicity. I want to use tea as a way to create an experience and a lifestyle.”
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
On a recent visit, Hsieh and a friend brewed high mountain tea (高山茶) in a small ceramic pot and served it in tiny porcelain cups, each of which held only two or three sips. Each pot usually produces five rounds of tea and guests are encouraged to note the difference in flavor as the steeping time increases. The material the teapot is made out of, the quantity of leaves and the temperature of the water also influence the taste and aroma of the beverage.
Most tea served in Hsiao Man is brewed from leaves grown in Taiwan. Hsieh visits areas known for tea production like Lishan (梨山), Alishan (阿里山) and Lugu Township (鹿谷) in Nantou County, where she buys leaves from farmers who grow tea in small quantities using traditional seeding, harvesting and preparation methods.
Hsiao Man also offers lunch and dinner based on Japanese-style home cooking and made with seasonal ingredients. The space recently began carrying linen and cotton clothing by Jikonka and handmade sterling silver and brass jewelry by O2O2; both brands are run by designers Hsieh met during return visits to Japan.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
“I wanted to pick things that would match the atmosphere I am trying to create in Hsiao Man, which is peaceful and comfortable,” Hsieh says.
Despite Hsiao Man’s focus on a “slow life,” Hsieh’s daily routine is quite frantic. She is the mother of two teenagers and Hsiao Man has a tiny staff, so Hsieh is involved in every aspect of its operation, from preparing meals to serving tea to guests.
“I get up in the morning and cook breakfast for my kids. We serve lunch and dinner at Hsiao Man, so we’re always working and I don’t take a break until I get home and go to sleep,” she says. “Even though I look poised, I’m actually constantly very busy.”
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Hsieh says that sharing tea with friends, however, can be an oasis in a packed schedule.
“Tea is very simple. Drinking and enjoying tea is something that is innate,” Hsieh says. “It’s apart from the outside world.”
Life in the slow lane
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
On the last Wednesday of each month, Hsieh hosts a tea ceremony for up to 15 people. Each three-hour event is about NT$1,000 to NT$1,200 per person and includes lunch. Hsieh introduces aspects of tea preparation and etiquette. A recent gathering focused on what types of leaves are best suited to brewing iced tea. Hsieh also offers hour-long sessions on tea preparation and serving etiquette for individuals or small groups. For more information and to reserve a space, call (02) 2365-0017.
Hsiao Man’s lunch set meals range from NT$400 to NT$600, while dinner is about NT$1,300. Lunch and dinner spots should be reserved three days in advance. For tea drinking, reservations can be made one or two days in advance.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
Taiwan’s English education system is being pulled apart by three opposing forces. Bilingual Nation 2030 pulls students toward English and global communication. Artificial Intelligence (AI) readiness pulls them toward digital judgment, verification and AI-mediated work. But Taiwan’s old exam culture pulls them back toward memorization, grammar drills, timed reading and correct answers. If the education system keeps using old exams to define success, it risks producing graduates who are neither genuinely bilingual nor genuinely AI-ready, but trained for tasks machines can already perform. The first force is Bilingual Nation 2030. Launched in 2018, the policy aimed to “help Taiwan’s workforce connect
It seems every few days one bumps into one of those “real man” comments in which Taiwan is urged to “face reality” or similar, and “make a deal,” with the speaker implying that soon it will be too late. “Deal” advocates always present themselves as having a superior grip on reality, and the manly ability to make the “hard choice.” Their testosterone-laden language often echoes that of Taiwan sellout advocates. Note that such commentary always specifies a process (“make a deal, work with, make progress”), never the end state of what occupation by a violent authoritarian colonialist state will entail. In
June 1 to June 7 "If all Taiwanese were as afraid of dying as you, then what would happen?” Physician Shih Chiang-nan (施江南) reportedly said this to his wife Chen Chiao-tung (陳焦桐) after she urged him to stop intervening on behalf of Taiwanese soldiers stranded overseas after serving in the Japanese Army during World War II. Shih had clashed with high-ranking officials over the issue, engaged in several heated arguments with Taiwan governor-general Chen Yi (陳儀) and allegedly shouted at general Ko Yuan-fen (柯遠芬), chief of staff of the Taiwan Garrison Command, over
“Taiwan’s Opposition Leader Comes to US With a Message Straight Out of Beijing” read a May 31 headline in the Wall Street Journal. Top US administration officials and members of Congress almost certainly read the WSJ, and if there was a bullet point takeaway that people in Washington should absorb ahead of Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chair Cheng Li-wun’s (鄭麗文) arrival in DC on June 9, that headline is it. The last few columns have discussed this very topic, and the timing is not coincidental. While those top officials likely do not read the Taipei Times, judging by the number
RSS