Taiwan: Brita Lake (A Favorite Culinary Experience in Taipei)

Program: CET Taiwan, Fall

Nǐ chī bǎole ma? (Have you eaten/are you full?) In Taiwan, it’s not uncommon to be asked this question in lieu of a “Hi! How are you?” I think it would be fair to say that Taiwan would not be Taiwan without its food culture. Discussion of food permeates both professional and casual places. As I walk on the street, people discuss a new restaurant like it is hot-off-the-press news. When I sit at my desk at my internship, my coworkers negotiate lunch spots like their life depends on it. I, too, feel my brain becoming consumed with the exact coordinates of the best noodle restaurant, or the general cardinal direction of that one breakfast stand that sells the most perfect corn omelet. Living in Taiwan, it is impossible not to get caught up in the love that Taiwanese people have for food. Go into any restaurant, and at any given time, there will be at least three people taking pictures of their meal, either as an aesthetic addition to an Instagram story or for future reference as culinary field notes. My camera roll is becoming increasingly crowded with such pictures. I think it tells a great culinary story of my experience in Taiwan.

When I join my two local language partners on any sort of endeavor, whether intended or not, we always end up in some sort of restaurant. My language partners have very graciously helped me absorb Taiwan via their continuous food commentary: “Have you tried tofu pudding?” or “Next time we meet, we have to go try mango shaved ice.” For them, sharing Taiwan’s food landscape with me is not simply a nicety. It is an invitation to get to know them, too.

I cannot discuss Taiwan’s food culture without mentioning Taiwan’s night markets. Running daily anywhere from 4pm to midnight, these markets are crowded no matter the time. Walking the bustling streets at the night market invites a plethora of smells–you can pick out a stinky tofu stand from about 10 stalls away. You could say its smell precedes it. Despite the noseful that is chòudòufu (stinky tofu), I absolutely loved trying it (for this type of experience, I highly recommend bringing mints and/or gum for the aftermath… trust me!). These night markets are the epitome of comfortable chaos, with a warm atmosphere born of the tapping of metal utensils, golden light spilling out of each of the individual stalls, and the chatter of vendors and buyers alike. A visit to a night market is one of my greatest recommendations for anyone planning to come to Taiwan. 

The typical way of eating in Taiwan involves sharing the food. When I go out to eat with my roommates, we collectively order a couple of dishes, and then split the contents. Despite the potential for a last-piece-of-food brawl, we’ve thus far managed to remain cordial. My Taiwanese roommate informed me that this shared style of eating is so common that it doesn’t even have a Chinese name, it’s simply the default. I feel this is a good reflection of how much Taiwanese culture values food and shared meal times.

The longer I have been in Taiwan, the more I realize that food’s purpose is much more than simple sustenance. It is the best and most fundamental way to relate to people. Taiwan has a vibrant food culture, but lying beyond the unique flavors and preparation of the dishes is a mechanism for connecting people. In Taiwan, when you join someone for a meal, just know that you are both literally and figuratively taking a seat at the table with them.