The name of My Humble House Restaurant is ever so slightly disingenuous and self-satisfied, but false modesty is no sin, and this not so humble temple of “new Cantonese cuisine” has little it needs to be shy about. The first thing you notice as you run through the menu is that it has vast ambitions to span ancient heritage and modern culinary trends. Many dishes, from main meat dishes such as roast duck down to tiny little dumplings, seek to mediate classic techniques and flavors through an understanding of contemporary gastronomy and Western fine dining, providing guests with something unexpected at every turn.
The restaurant is located on the second floor of Le Meridien Hotel in Taipei’s swank East District. The decor, with its sleek minimalist finish and its luxurious black and red color scheme, might be described as “contemporary oriental luxury,” and while it has plenty of sophistication, it does not provide much in the way of surprises. It would not be out of place as a Chinese restaurant in any five-star international hotel.
But as stated above, the food is quite another matter. There are pleasant surprises at every turn. The roast duck is a fine example. This is a Cantonese dish that is boringly familiar to most regular visitors to Chinese restaurants, and it is often indifferently prepared. What particularly distinguished the dish at My Humble House Restaurant is the use of “cherry ducks” (宜蘭櫻桃鴨) from Yilan, a small but high quality bird with delicious meat. Served under the label of chef’s special spice marinated roasted duck (貝琵琶鴨仔, NT$1,500), the dish has many attractions. There is of course the contrast between the firm yet tender meat and the crisp skin, but the surprise was in the subtle flavors of the flesh, hinting at a wide range of Chinese medicinal herbs and spices but with the base note flavor of the duck never in danger of being overwhelmed. The neck, which is something of an acquired taste, and which is often removed, can be served separately on request. If you have the time, and the meal is not a formal one, there is nothing better than picking through the flavorsome morsels.
Photo courtesy of Le Meridien Taipei
With the roast duck, the surprise comes with the choice of bird which provides a vehicle for the chef’s skill. In other instances on the menu, the restaurant tries to offer attempts at various east-meets-west dishes. Its high level of success is due to a willingness to hold firm to authentic Cantonese techniques, so that dishes rarely if ever wander off into the mishmash of undefinable fusion cuisine found elsewhere. A fine example is the wok-fried beef with cilantro and goose liver (香根拌鵝肝和牛粒, NT$1,080), which is really nothing more than a beef stir-fry, but through the use of prime US beef and rich foie gras, the dish becomes something unique, while remaining immediately recognizable.
Abalone is often regarded as a banquet dish, but at My Humble House Restaurant, it is served, unusually for a Chinese restaurant, as an individual portion. Fried abalone tossed with crispy minced garlic (蒜香南非活鮑, NT$680 per person) presents the diner with a single whole South African abalone, lightly deep fried and then seasoned with garlic, chili and salt. Nothing could be simpler; nothing could be more difficult to get just exactly right.
Even with the dim sum dishes, which start at around NT$150 a plate, there is plenty of innovation. Most eye catching of all is the steamed herb and mushroom dumplings (香草素菌蒸粉果, NT$150) with a kind of taichi black-and-white coloration. Although the lightness of texture, which for me at least is the critical element of such dishes, wasn’t blow-you-away amazing, the use of ingredients such as squid ink to color the casing, and clever presentation as well as the unusual flavor of herbs and mushrooms was more than enough to make up for this.
Photo courtesy of Le Meridien Taipei
This was only the tip of the iceberg for a very interesting menu at a restaurant where even the side dishes are memorable. My Humble House Restaurant makes it all look simple, but even before you start your meal, you will probably be noting down dishes to try on your next visit.
Photo courtesy of Le Meridien Taipei
Behind a car repair business on a nondescript Thai street are the cherished pets of a rising TikTok animal influencer: two lions and a 200-kilogram lion-tiger hybrid called “Big George.” Lion ownership is legal in Thailand, and Tharnuwarht Plengkemratch is an enthusiastic advocate, posting updates on his feline companions to nearly three million followers. “They’re playful and affectionate, just like dogs or cats,” he said from inside their cage complex at his home in the northern city of Chiang Mai. Thailand’s captive lion population has exploded in recent years, with nearly 500 registered in zoos, breeding farms, petting cafes and homes. Experts warn the
No one saw it coming. Everyone — including the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) — expected at least some of the recall campaigns against 24 of its lawmakers and Hsinchu Mayor Ann Kao (高虹安) to succeed. Underground gamblers reportedly expected between five and eight lawmakers to lose their jobs. All of this analysis made sense, but contained a fatal flaw. The record of the recall campaigns, the collapse of the KMT-led recalls, and polling data all pointed to enthusiastic high turnout in support of the recall campaigns, and that those against the recalls were unenthusiastic and far less likely to vote. That
The unexpected collapse of the recall campaigns is being viewed through many lenses, most of them skewed and self-absorbed. The international media unsurprisingly focuses on what they perceive as the message that Taiwanese voters were sending in the failure of the mass recall, especially to China, the US and to friendly Western nations. This made some sense prior to early last month. One of the main arguments used by recall campaigners for recalling Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) lawmakers was that they were too pro-China, and by extension not to be trusted with defending the nation. Also by extension, that argument could be
The centuries-old fiery Chinese spirit baijiu (白酒), long associated with business dinners, is being reshaped to appeal to younger generations as its makers adapt to changing times. Mostly distilled from sorghum, the clear but pungent liquor contains as much as 60 percent alcohol. It’s the usual choice for toasts of gan bei (乾杯), the Chinese expression for bottoms up, and raucous drinking games. “If you like to drink spirits and you’ve never had baijiu, it’s kind of like eating noodles but you’ve never had spaghetti,” said Jim Boyce, a Canadian writer and wine expert who founded World Baijiu Day a decade
RSS