Japan’s Wagokoro Tonkatsu Anzu Ginza, formerly known as Wagokoro Tonkatsu Anzu (“Ginza” was added after it partnered with Taiwan’s La Kaffa International Co [六角國際事業]), has earned a justified reputation for its tonkatsu, or deep-fried pork chops.
My friend and I visited the Zhongxiao branch (忠孝店), located inside the Bistro 98 building and a three-minute walk from the Zhongxiao Fuxing MRT Station (忠孝復興站), for dinner on a weekday a few weeks ago. We were promptly seated at a window table with views of the area’s bustling streets, which served as a nice contrast to the interior’s soft lighting and relaxing atmosphere.
The majority of the items on Anzu Ginza’s menu are set dishes that come with regular or purple rice, pickled vegetables, shredded lettuce and cabbage with purple perilla or pomelo sauce and miso soup. There are nine takeout options (NT$200 to NT$270) as well as pork and shrimp sandwiches (NT$130 each).
Photo: Eddy Chang, Taipei Times
We began with the six-egg Japanese egg roll (古早味玉子燒, NT$120). It was infused with light hints of soy sauce and was a nice balance between sweet and savory. This was followed up by the fried chicken pieces (炸雞塊, NT$100 for 6), slightly crispy on the outside and moist and juicy inside.
According to Anzu Ginza’s branch manager Irene Chiu (邱文萱), the restaurant’s cutlets are aged for seven days, nicely tenderizing them and giving them an intense flavor. The toro loin (TORO里肌肉套餐, NT$450/NT$370) is the restaurant’s signature dish. Though the Japanese word “toro” means fish belly, it is here synonymous with high quality. The large piece of breaded pork loin — which weighs 250g and is 3cm thick — is deep-fried until golden and crispy. As it contains more marbling than the other cuts on the menu, it’s juicier and more flavorsome. This is a must try for all pork chop-maniacs.
The pork loin pot (里肌豬排鍋膳套餐, NT$330/NT$250) is the restaurant’s most popular dish. Unlike conventional tonkatsu, this deep-fried pork loin arrives in a large pot and is topped with stir-fried onion slices and a simmered egg partially soaked in a broth. This creates a harmonious combination of flavors and textures between the bottom part of the pork loin, which is infused with the soup, and the top, which remains slightly crisp.
Photo: Eddy Chang, Taipei Times
If you are not a fan of deep-fried foods, the pan-fried pork loin with shredded ginger (生薑燒厚切里肌豬排, NT$350/NT$270) is a good option. The thickly-sliced meat is pan-fried and then stewed in a ginger and garlic sauce until the sauce is completely reduced. Its flavor remains robust, while being significantly less greasy than its deep-fried counterparts.
Other popular dishes include the Anzu special (杏子招牌特餐, NT$330/NT$250), including pork cutlets and shrimp, vegetable roll and steamed egg, and the grass shrimp and pork fillet (草蝦腰內豬排套餐, NT$350/NT$270).
Anzu Ginza has a minimum charge of NT$80 for all guests above 6 years old, and reservations are available at some branches. But the 90-minute time limit may be too short. Overall, Anzu Ginza is a satisfying dining experience, and its authentic Japanese cutlets are irresistible.
Photo: Eddy Chang, Taipei Times
Photo: Eddy Chang, Taipei Times
President William Lai (賴清德) has championed Taiwan as an “AI Island” — an artificial intelligence (AI) hub powering the global tech economy. But without major shifts in talent, funding and strategic direction, this vision risks becoming a static fortress: indispensable, yet immobile and vulnerable. It’s time to reframe Taiwan’s ambition. Time to move from a resource-rich AI island to an AI Armada. Why change metaphors? Because choosing the right metaphor shapes both understanding and strategy. The “AI Island” frames our national ambition as a static fortress that, while valuable, is still vulnerable and reactive. Shifting our metaphor to an “AI Armada”
When Taiwan was battered by storms this summer, the only crumb of comfort I could take was knowing that some advice I’d drafted several weeks earlier had been correct. Regarding the Southern Cross-Island Highway (南橫公路), a spectacular high-elevation route connecting Taiwan’s southwest with the country’s southeast, I’d written: “The precarious existence of this road cannot be overstated; those hoping to drive or ride all the way across should have a backup plan.” As this article was going to press, the middle section of the highway, between Meishankou (梅山口) in Kaohsiung and Siangyang (向陽) in Taitung County, was still closed to outsiders
The older you get, and the more obsessed with your health, the more it feels as if life comes down to numbers: how many more years you can expect; your lean body mass; your percentage of visceral fat; how dense your bones are; how many kilos you can squat; how long you can deadhang; how often you still do it; your levels of LDL and HDL cholesterol; your resting heart rate; your overnight blood oxygen level; how quickly you can run; how many steps you do in a day; how many hours you sleep; how fast you are shrinking; how
“‘Medicine and civilization’ were two of the main themes that the Japanese colonial government repeatedly used to persuade Taiwanese to accept colonization,” wrote academic Liu Shi-yung (劉士永) in a chapter on public health under the Japanese. The new government led by Goto Shimpei viewed Taiwan and the Taiwanese as unsanitary, sources of infection and disease, in need of a civilized hand. Taiwan’s location in the tropics was emphasized, making it an exotic site distant from Japan, requiring the introduction of modern ideas of governance and disease control. The Japanese made great progress in battling disease. Malaria was reduced. Dengue was