If I could choose, the only way I’d dine out is in the company of a regular customer. That was the condition in which I found myself at Sizhitang (四知堂), a low-profile restaurant where Taipei residents go for its thoughtful, polished renditions of Taiwanese comfort food.
Somehow, this gem of a restaurant has kept a lower profile than other vanguards of innovative Taiwanese cuisine, perhaps because of its awkward placing between fine-dining establishment and mom-and-pop shop. In fact, it’s an ideal way to turn the international palate onto Taiwanese food, with its use of locally-sourced ingredients in fun takes on traditional dishes that are just shy of fusion.
Sizhitang is proudly Taiwanese to its core, right down to the pillars and beams. Though around for years, it recently moved into a building known as Hong Lu (虹廬), the former residence of Wang Da-hung (王大閎), a renowned architect and pioneer of local modernist architecture. His designs are strewn across Taipei, and include the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall and Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
Photo: Davina Tham, Taipei Times
From the main street, the entrance to the house is a deep and narrow courtyard that is easily missed. Completed in 1964, Hong Lu is an unexpectedly expansive space. Outfitted like a living room, with low chairs and low lighting, the interior invites a leisurely afternoon lunch followed by tea, or a hearty evening gathering with friends and alcohol.
The compact menu is entirely written in a Chinese brush script, and changes seasonally. But the attentive maitre d’, who provides the assured hospitality of a lady of the manor, will explain the offerings in smooth English if she notices that your party is anglophone.
The dishes intrigue with their twists and turns: a typical combination of boiled pork belly and pungent garlic sauce is interrupted by figs (NT$700); lion’s head meatballs dressed up with crab roe (NT$700); mapo (媽婆) stinky tofu (NT$420); and chicken soup flavored with genmaicha (NT$650), or Japanese green tea mixed with roasted brown rice.
Photo: Davina Tham, Taipei Times
Dining with a regular means that instead of ordering a la carte dishes off the menu, we entrust our choices to the maitre d’, asking her to help us put together a lunch with the only request being that it cost about NT$800 per person.
If ceding control doesn’t give you a fit, this is an ideal way to order. Designed by an insider who has insight into the restaurant’s strengths and inner workings, the resulting architecture of the meal is well-rounded, as enjoyable as it is nourishing.
A cold appetizer trio hits the table, and our chopsticks fly at the juicy bamboo shoots, pickled and steamed pumpkin and mouthwatering braised tofu. The platter is on the house, part of the little perks, or zhaodai (招待), to encourage loyal patronage. The practice will also bring us slices of seared savory radish cake, a pot of black tea from Sun Moon Lake and, much later, home-made raspberry marshmallows.
Photo: Davina Tham, Taipei Times
But for now we’re still on our first entree, and it’s a stir-fry of leafy greens and beef slices (NT$550) that immediately exceeds all expectations of the obligatory vegetable dish. The greens and bamboo shoots are cooked until just on the verge of tenderness, and pointed up by the unorthodox inclusion of wax apple slices, pickled ginger and candied ginger. The crunchy, tart and refreshing bites cleanse our palates in between the heavyweights that start to arrive.
Wild clams, steamed in a sherry, tomato and bacon broth (NT$650), are plump. The sweet, briny and garlicky sauce tastes more of the Mediterranean than Taiwan’s native seas where these clams were picked, but we make quick work of them anyway, building a vertiginous tower of empty shells. The only thing missing is some bread to mop up the sauce, which we spoon right into our mouths instead.
Braised pig’s trotters (NT$650) are respectable and light-handed with the seasoning, perhaps because we’re eating the dishes without rice. While often slicked with an obscuring sauce, these are instead overtaken by an avalanche of braised yellow soybeans that unfortunately to me don’t do much for either taste or texture. But the pork is pleasantly tender, with enough lean meat and gelatinous skin to satisfy adherents of both.
Instead of rice, our starch comes in the form of a light and restorative seafood noodle soup (NT$650), curiously topped with slices of dried starfruit and filled with so many goodies we don’t know where to start. The soft rice noodles — also charmingly called “rat noodles” (老鼠粉) for the way their thick, two-inch lengths resemble rodent tails — become elusive in the abundance of squid, mushrooms, squid balls, meatballs, hefty chunks of taro and more clams.
Though already feeling as well-fed as kings, we cannot resist ordering dessert upon learning that Sizhitang does magical things with seasonal fruit. While conservatives may be up in arms when comfort food becomes a novelty, the same is less true of dessert, which tends to hold more artistic license.
The most irreverent dish of the day arrives: a dried persimmon, poached in syrup until its leathery flesh melts into something supple, stuffed with mascarpone cheese and served with nuts (NT$250). The perfect flourish to end the meal, it encapsulates the way Sizhitang prioritizes peak local produce and is mindful of the classics, while keeping up a vital sense of playfulness.
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