With its antique-looking armchairs and slightly worn wooden armrests, crimson-colored walls set against black-and-golden carpeting, and original sculptures and other artworks in the dining room, a nostalgic sense of faded grandeur pervades Jimmy’s Kitchen, one of Taipei City’s oldest steak houses.
Hidden in a basement close to the roundabout on Renai Road (仁愛路), Jimmy’s Kitchen is said to have a history dating back to the foreign concessions in Shanghai. The owner fled to Taiwan with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) after the Chinese civil war and restarted the business, which was taken over by the current management two decades ago.
Bearing such a history in mind, it is not surprising that the restaurant has retained a look reminiscent of bygone days when suits and gowns were de rigueur. The interior design cleverly turns the lack of natural lighting to work in its favor, with candles on each table exuding a look of old-school romanticism that is given an aural dimension by a resident pianist.
As for the food itself, it lives up to all the rave reviews Jimmy’s has accumulated over the years. On a recent Friday night the restaurant was packed (fortunately, we had made reservations a few days ahead). My dining partner and I ordered the tenderloin with fresh goose liver (NT$1,100) and filet mignon (NT$1,120), both of which were recommended by the gray-haired staff. The tenderloin was a savory fusion of steak and slightly fried foie gras, with the latter being a bit of crunchy on the outside and buttery on the inside. The filet mignon was one of the best I had ever tasted.
According to other recent reviews, the pig knuckles (NT$820) are also a must-try. The more premium seafood dishes have also received fair reviews, but these are said to pale in comparison to the steak menu.
Apart from its legendary past and lauded menu, Jimmy’s most famed asset is its seasoned wait staff, who seem to take pride in their trade rather than merely seeing it as a way to make a living. Impeccably dressed in suits, they attend to patrons with great care and respect, observing quietly what diners need and offering their services without being intrusive.
At Jimmy’s, salads and desserts are served buffet-style, and there are a decent range of choices. The advice is to stay away from the cakes and stick with the fruit. One of the very few weaknesses this restaurant suffers from is its mediocre selection of pastries and cakes.
Taipei is teeming with leisurely half day hikes — but it’s still hard to find a route that’s close to an MRT and not too built up nor packed on the weekends. I’m also not a fan of the concrete or stone steps that line many of the paths close to town. I only wanted to be walking for a few hours, and an Internet search narrowed my options down to one attractive trek: the Kangle Mountain (康樂山) and Mingju Mountain (明舉山) trails in eastern Neihu District. So when my friend invited me on an afternoon hike to the popular
Last week Vice President William Lai (賴清德) announced that he would be a candidate in the party’s presidential primary. As Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) chairman, Lai is widely understood to have the inside track on the presidential nomination. Lai’s comments consisted of the usual DPP noise in national elections, focusing on China. “We must be united to strengthen Taiwan, stick to the democratic camp and ensure Taiwan’s security” in the face of increased Chinese “saber rattling” and “unscrupulous diplomatic bullying,” he said. He also made a vague nod to the economy, the environment (green energy) and supply chains. Whenever his name is
It’s a fairly common scenario: A property has been foreclosed and sold at auction on behalf of a bank, but it remains occupied. The former owner may be refusing to leave, because he has nowhere else to go. Humans or animals may be squatting inside. Or — and this happens often enough that many foreclosure specialists have come across it — the stay-ons are gods. On June 1, 2020, ETToday reported on one such case in New Taipei City. Following the sale of a foreclosed apartment in Sinjhuang District (新莊), a second auction, to dispose of movable items left inside, was
During the 1980s, sex symbol Lu Hsiao-fen (陸小芬) was known for her bold behavior and suggestive performances. But in in Day Off (本日公休), her first film role in 23 years, Liu, 66, plays kind-hearted yet stubborn hairdresser A-Rui, who struggles with social and generational change. Operating an old-school barber shop from her home, A-Rui has had the same customers for decades. “You’re in charge of all of our heads,” one quips. A-Rui prides herself on knowing exactly what each customer wants without needing to ask, and her shop is also a place for locals to socialize. She personally calls each
RSS