Though it is located within sight of Taipei City Hall, Mayur Indian Kitchen is easy to miss because the small takeaway restaurant is tucked among a row of motorcycle repair shops and food stands behind the Keelung Road underpass. Mayur Indian Kitchen is just a kitchen counter with a few tables lined up on the sidewalk, but it offers a wide, constantly changing assortment of home-style Indian cooking. (A second location is located in New Taipei City’s St Ignatius Plaza (徐匯廣場) shopping mall).
Owner Mayur Srivastava worked as a hotel chef before opening Mayur Indian Kitchen six months ago. The eatery’s dishes are freshly prepared and feature whole spices instead of powdered versions. The restaurant specializes in north Indian cuisine, but also offers south Indian classics like dosa, or savory pancakes made from rice flour and lentils served with a variety of stuffings, and crispy samosas. The restaurant frequently changes its menus and offers specials depending on the season. For example, next week Mayur will began serving homemade yogurt, mango and lemon drinks for the warm weather.
“We keep changing our menu because we want to let people taste new things every time. There are so many dishes in India,” says Srivastava.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
The curries I ate at Mayur Indian Kitchen are mildly spicy, but can be made more piquant based on customer requests. The restaurant offers several jain, or vegetarian dishes, such as aloo gobhi (NT$110), which is made with sauteed potato, cauliflower, tomato and spices. I liked how the cauliflower was lightly cooked to retain some of its crunch. The tandoori chicken masala (NT$145) was also good, though most of the chicken was still on the bone and it became tiresome picking off the meat. My favorite dish of the night was the chana masala (NT$95), which paired very well with the butter naan (NT$55). Mayur Indian Kitchen’s freshly prepared version of the Indian flatbread is especially good: the edges are baked until crisp, while the middle is moist and chewy — just right for scooping up curry. The naan comes in 14 savory or sweet flavors. My companion and I also ordered the garlic version (NT$55), which was topped with a plentiful sprinkling of seaweed flakes. The flavor combination was fine but unexpected. We preferred how the plain butter naan tasted with our other dishes.
On a separate visit, I ordered a vegetarian lunch set with chickpea curry, which was made with a liberal helping of cumin. Even the simple cabbage salad included with the set was sprinkled with plenty of fennel seeds, which offered an interesting contrast to the tart vinegar dressing and was a cool palate cleanser after the rich curry and rice.
For dessert, Mayur Indian Kitchen offers both gulab jamun (deep-fried milk balls served in sugar syrup, NT$80) and gajar halwa (NT$95), which we ordered. The deliciously thick, sticky pudding-like dish is made with carrots and cashew nuts cooked in milk and made my sweet tooth very happy.
Photo: Catherine Shu, Taipei Times
What was the population of Taiwan when the first Negritos arrived? In 500BC? The 1st century? The 18th? These questions are important, because they can contextualize the number of babies born last month, 6,523, to all the people on Taiwan, indigenous and colonial alike. That figure represents a year on year drop of 3,884 babies, prefiguring total births under 90,000 for the year. It also represents the 26th straight month of deaths exceeding births. Why isn’t this a bigger crisis? Because we don’t experience it. Instead, what we experience is a growing and more diverse population. POPULATION What is Taiwan’s actual population?
For the past five years, Sammy Jou (周祥敏) has climbed Kinmen’s highest peak, Taiwu Mountain (太武山) at 6am before heading to work. In the winter, it’s dark when he sets out but even at this hour, other climbers are already coming down the mountain. All of this is a big change from Jou’s childhood during the Martial Law period, when the military requisitioned the mountain for strategic purposes and most of it was off-limits. Back then, only two mountain trails were open, and they were open only during special occasions, such as for prayers to one’s ancestors during Lunar New Year.
A key feature of Taiwan’s environmental impact assessments (EIA) is that they seldom stop projects, especially once the project has passed its second stage EIA review (the original Suhua Highway proposal, killed after passing the second stage review, seems to be the lone exception). Mingjian Township (名間鄉) in Nantou County has been the site of rising public anger over the proposed construction of a waste incinerator in an important agricultural area. The township is a key producer of tea (over 40 percent of the island’s production), ginger and turmeric. The incinerator project is currently in its second stage EIA. The incinerator
It sounded innocuous enough. On the morning of March 12, a group of Taichung political powerbrokers held a press conference in support of Deputy Legislative Speaker Johnny Chiang’s (江啟臣) bid to win the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) primary in the Taichung mayoral race. Big deal, right? It was a big deal, one with national impact and likely sent shivers down the spine of KMT Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文). Who attended, who did not, the timing and the messaging were all very carefully calibrated for maximum impact — a masterclass in political messaging. In October last year, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP)