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.
The breakwater stretches out to sea from the sprawling Kaohsiung port in southern Taiwan. Normally, it’s crowded with massive tankers ferrying liquefied natural gas from Qatar to be stored in the bulbous white tanks that dot the shoreline. These are not normal times, though, and not a single shipment from Qatar has docked at the Yongan terminal since early March after the Strait of Hormuz was shuttered. The suspension has provided a realistic preview of a potential Chinese blockade, a move that would throttle an economy anchored by the world’s most advanced and power-hungry semiconductor industry. It is a stark reminder of
May 11 to May 17 Traversing the southern slopes of the Yushan Range in 1931, Japanese naturalist Tadao Kano knew he was approaching the last swath of Taiwan still beyond colonial control. The “vast, unknown territory,” protected by the “fierce” Bunun headman Dahu Ali, was “filled with an utterly endless jungle that choked the mountains and valleys,” Kano wrote. He noted how the group had “refused to submit to the measures of our authorities and entrenched themselves deep in these mountains … living a free existence spent chasing deer in the morning and seeking serow in the evening,” even describing them as
The last couple of weeks spectators in Taiwan and abroad have been treated to a remarkable display of infighting in the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) over the supplementary defense budget. The party has split into two camps, one supporting an NT$800 billion special defense budget and one supporting an NT$380 billion budget with additional funding contingent on receiving letters of acceptance (LOA) from the US. Recent media reports have said that the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) is leaning toward the latter position. President William Lai (賴清德) has proposed NT$1.25 trillion for purchases of US arms and for development of domestic weapons
As a different column was being written, the big news dropped that Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) announced that negotiations within his caucus, with legislative speaker Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) of the KMT, party Chair Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), Taichung Mayor Lu Shiow-yen (盧秀燕) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) Chair Huang Kuo-chang (黃國昌) had produced a compromise special military budget proposal. On Thursday morning, prior to meeting with Cheng over a lunch of beef noodles, Lu reiterated her support for a budget of NT$800 or NT$900 billion — but refused to comment after the meeting. Right after Fu’s
RSS