The Lee (李) family migrated to Taiwan in trickles many decades ago. Born in Myanmar, they are ethnically Chinese and their first language is Yunnanese, from China’s Yunnan Province.
Today, they run a cozy little restaurant in Taipei’s student stomping ground, near National Taiwan University (NTU), serving up a daily pre-selected menu that pays homage to their blended Yunnan-Burmese heritage, where lemongrass and curry leaves sit beside century egg and pickled woodear mushrooms.
Wu Yun (巫雲) is more akin to a family home that has set up tables and chairs and welcomed strangers to cozy up and share a meal than a serious sit-down affair.
Photo: Hollie Younger, Taipei Times
The exterior looks like Santa’s grotto, all fairy lights and whimsical knick-knacks, and the inside is just as twee; vinyls plastered to the walls, an Italian record on play, not at all adjacent to the vibe, and an elderly man sitting on what looks to be a very supportive office chair to eat his dinner.
But the more you look, the more you discover. Woven Yunnan-Burmese clothing hangs on display and the staff are kitted out in traditional garb. Family photos adorn the walls, some rustically photoshopped to superimpose black and white headshots onto smiling groups of faces.
This place has been open longer than my lifetime, and the charming family atmosphere and seasonal rotating menu keep diners coming back year on year.
Photo: Hollie Younger, Taipei Times
The 61-year-old proprietor Lee Gui-hsing (李貴興) relocated to Taiwan 40 years ago to pursue an education in, ironically, journalism, though he favored a more relaxed lifestyle and never pursued it as a career, he laughs.
He took over this place two years ago, after the passing of his beloved older brother, who opened the spot back in 1995, with the help of his siblings and extended family — many of whom are also present at our dinner on Saturday night.
The food menu is perfect for the indecisive; there isn’t one.
Photo: Hollie Younger, Taipei Times
Depending on the number of diners, they’ll rustle up a tasting menu that varies each day. It’s what the family decides to cook and eat themselves and between two we get five small plates, a dessert and unlimited white rice for just NT$300 a head.
The selection changes with the seasons, with more soups and curries on offer in winter and cold noodles and chilled plates in summer.
They ask upon ordering if you can eat meat, if you like spicy food and any personal preferences — they can also cater to vegetarians. We enthusiastically agree to try anything and everything.
Photo: Hollie Younger, Taipei Times
The drinks menu comes in the form of an old vinyl with handwritten scrawls in white marker. We partake in a Classic Taiwan Beer (NT$60) each, served in a small can that really fits the “welcome to our home,” “let me see what I’ve got in the fridge” vibe.
The main dish served is a chicken and potato curry, comparable to a Thai massaman curry with less spice in the gravy but topped with dark red dried chilis. The chicken falls off the bone — and we place those bones into a lovingly prepared origami paper box we’re given to dispose of them in. The curry is packed with lemongrass and Southeast Asian aromatics and was the winner on our table.
The second favorite was a cold noodle dish of gelatinous vermicelli, fresh red chili, pickled woodear mushrooms and delightful little nuggets of crispy garlic that guide the flavor profile away from the more familiar taste of a Thai papaya salad.
Photo: Hollie Younger, Taipei Times
Next up, a cold dish comprised of slices of cold pork, marbled with fat and served in a vibrant red, almost kimchi-like sauce with a tang of tomato. We’re also served a simple side of warm cabbage and the final dish, a dip of cold tofu and century egg. Cold, navy-blue preserved eggs — a familiar foe. Perhaps I shouldn’t have so boldly proffered that “I eat everything!” But my less octo-averse friend laps it up.
Dessert writes the perfect conclusion to Wu Yun: simple, homely, satisfying. A moreishly satiating, chewy, warm roti is topped with condensed milk.
Perhaps some more hot dishes and soup would’ve rounded out the meal, but on a day when the temperature oscillated between a balmy 25 degrees and brisk November chill, I suppose the winter menu was not yet in play.
Wu Yun offers an exciting blend of familiar East Asian and Southeast Asian flavors, with the fun pre-designed menu leading us to enjoy items we might not have picked off the menu — see cold pork and century egg.
Burmese culture and cuisine in Taiwan is often said to be best enjoyed in New Taipei’s “Myanmar Street,” a pocket of Burmese restaurants along Zhonghe District’s (中和) Huahsin Street (華新街). Here, opening times vary, it can get hectic and it’s difficult to know what to order and where.
But when in Taipei, to dip a tentative toe into Yunnan-Burmese cuisine, Wu Yun is the place to go.
What was the population of Taiwan when the first Negritos arrived? In 500BC? The 1st century? The 18th? These questions are important, because they can contextualize the number of babies born last month, 6,523, to all the people on Taiwan, indigenous and colonial alike. That figure represents a year on year drop of 3,884 babies, prefiguring total births under 90,000 for the year. It also represents the 26th straight month of deaths exceeding births. Why isn’t this a bigger crisis? Because we don’t experience it. Instead, what we experience is a growing and more diverse population. POPULATION What is Taiwan’s actual population?
For the past five years, Sammy Jou (周祥敏) has climbed Kinmen’s highest peak, Taiwu Mountain (太武山) at 6am before heading to work. In the winter, it’s dark when he sets out but even at this hour, other climbers are already coming down the mountain. All of this is a big change from Jou’s childhood during the Martial Law period, when the military requisitioned the mountain for strategic purposes and most of it was off-limits. Back then, only two mountain trails were open, and they were open only during special occasions, such as for prayers to one’s ancestors during Lunar New Year.
A key feature of Taiwan’s environmental impact assessments (EIA) is that they seldom stop projects, especially once the project has passed its second stage EIA review (the original Suhua Highway proposal, killed after passing the second stage review, seems to be the lone exception). Mingjian Township (名間鄉) in Nantou County has been the site of rising public anger over the proposed construction of a waste incinerator in an important agricultural area. The township is a key producer of tea (over 40 percent of the island’s production), ginger and turmeric. The incinerator project is currently in its second stage EIA. The incinerator
It sounded innocuous enough. On the morning of March 12, a group of Taichung political powerbrokers held a press conference in support of Deputy Legislative Speaker Johnny Chiang’s (江啟臣) bid to win the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) primary in the Taichung mayoral race. Big deal, right? It was a big deal, one with national impact and likely sent shivers down the spine of KMT Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文). Who attended, who did not, the timing and the messaging were all very carefully calibrated for maximum impact — a masterclass in political messaging. In October last year, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP)