They say presentation matters, and Gohan’s (御飯食事处) bright and simple wooden facade stands out among the clutter in a narrow East District alley lined with eateries.
The interior is just as clean and pleasant as well, with minimalist decor using the same type of light-colored wood. Next to the cashier are displays of three types of rice — and as gohan literally means rice in Japanese, it is the star of the restaurant, which rotates its selection monthly.
As with the decor, the Japanese-style set meals are light, subtle yet hearty, with a variety of flavors and textures that serve to complement the rice instead of the other way around. Opened in April, Gohan is run by a three-generation family of seven from Siluo Township (西螺) in Yunlin County, which is famous for its rice and won first place in last year’s government-sponsored national rice contest. Judges commented that it was “chewy with hints of taro and just the right amount of stickiness.”
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
The menu explains their meticulous method of cooking rice, which they say is freshly harvested. They soak the rice in water for 10 minutes, which reduces the cooking time while preserving the texture. It’s cooked on a high flame for 20 minutes then on low for another 20 minutes. The method was decided through numerous family meetings, the menu states.
The set meals come in six separate portions: rice, meat, vegetables, soup, pickled vegetables and stewed vegetables. We order the salted sirloin with Japanese onion sauce (NT$450) with Siluo rice and the Gohan beef stew (NT$330) with purple glutinous rice. The elegant arrangements on the tray are aesthetically pleasing, and the fragrance of the rice is immediately apparent.
Everything is subtly flavored so as not to overpower the rice, which is by no means bland. Each dish brings a unique texture and taste that pairs well with the rice, at times even enhancing the rice flavors and creating new sensations. The best part is that nothing is greasy, leaving a very happy stomach after the meal.
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
Let’s start from the side dishes. There was a carrot, sugar snap and konyak combo in a light tofu dressing with sesame seeds, which made for a refreshing starter with three distinct textures. The dressing was barely seasoned, but the taste of tofu came through after each bite. The miso soup was also on the lighter side with a slight seafood taste. The pickled cucumber and seaweed brought a new dimension with its sourness, and the two different textures also paired well together. Finally, the daikon radish with meat stew was on the sweeter side. The sweet soy sauce permeated the daikon chunks, but once you bit in, the daikon flavor is unlocked and quickly takes over. Though the portions are small, these dishes were multi-layered and obviously well thought out.
Most of the sirloin was wonderfully tender, although a few pieces were a bit uneven. The onion sauce had just about the right amount of sweetness and worked well with the meat. The flavor is too strong on its own, however, and here’s where the rice comes in. This food cannot be eaten without rice, which is the point of the restaurant. True to its description, the Siluo grain had a distinct taro undertone that melded perfectly with the juicy meat. It toned down the sauce, and the taro and onion aftertastes combined into a new, hard-to-describe sensation that lingered in the mouth.
It was a similar experience with the brisket, which came with just the right about of fat. The meat was also tender, softened by sitting in a slightly-sweet soy-based broth. The purple rice was grainier and chewier than the Siluo variety, and had more of the standard aroma one would expect from rice. This, too, was enhanced by the meat and soy aftertaste, and it was just as refreshing as the sirloin dish, albeit slightly heartier.
Just one little thing to nitpick. The brisket also came with glass noodles, which was probably unnecessary as the rice sufficed as the starch. Other than that, it was a superb dining experience that left me feeling full, satisfied and not at all heavy. Despite the intricacies, the food felt more like a home-cooked meal that could be enjoyed every day, and I would if not for the price range.
May 6 to May 12 Those who follow the Chinese-language news may have noticed the usage of the term zhuge (豬哥, literally ‘pig brother,’ a male pig raised for breeding purposes) in reports concerning the ongoing #Metoo scandal in the entertainment industry. The term’s modern connotations can range from womanizer or lecher to sexual predator, but it once referred to an important rural trade. Until the 1970s, it was a common sight to see a breeder herding a single “zhuge” down a rustic path with a bamboo whip, often traveling large distances over rugged terrain to service local families. Not only
Ahead of incoming president William Lai’s (賴清德) inauguration on May 20 there appear to be signs that he is signaling to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and that the Chinese side is also signaling to the Taiwan side. This raises a lot of questions, including what is the CCP up to, who are they signaling to, what are they signaling, how with the various actors in Taiwan respond and where this could ultimately go. In the last column, published on May 2, we examined the curious case of Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) heavyweight Tseng Wen-tsan (鄭文燦) — currently vice premier
The last time Mrs Hsieh came to Cihu Park in Taoyuan was almost 50 years ago, on a school trip to the grave of Taiwan’s recently deceased dictator. Busloads of children were brought in to pay their respects to Chiang Kai-shek (蔣中正), known as Generalissimo, who had died at 87, after decades ruling Taiwan under brutal martial law. “There were a lot of buses, and there was a long queue,” Hsieh recalled. “It was a school rule. We had to bow, and then we went home.” Chiang’s body is still there, under guard in a mausoleum at the end of a path
Last week the Directorate-General of Budget, Accounting and Statistics (DGBAS) released a set of very strange numbers on Taiwan’s wealth distribution. Duly quoted in the Taipei Times, the report said that “The Gini coefficient for Taiwanese households… was 0.606 at the end of 2021, lower than Australia’s 0.611, the UK’s 0.620, Japan’s 0.678, France’s 0.676 and Germany’s 0.727, the agency said in a report.” The Gini coefficient is a measure of relative inequality, usually of wealth or income, though it can be used to evaluate other forms of inequality. However, for most nations it is a number from .25 to .50