Douhua with barley
(Photographed with a Fujifilm XT 10 and a Fujinon XF 16mm lens)
THE night market pulsates with a nocturnal energy that is neither frenzied nor frenetic. In fact, it seems the Taiwanese have their game plan all mapped out, and they are hardly panicked. Like everything in Taiwan, the energy in Luo Dong Night Market feels like a low buzz of life, present but unobtrusive.
Calem Ngan brings us first to the famous mutton soup, a dish associated with Yilan, a town an hour and a half away from bustling Taipei. It is a little bit more quiet here, of course, but the variety is far from wanting. “This is the famous one everyone goes for because some blogger mentioned it,” Calem points to a stall three four spaces from the corner of the main road, forking into the U-shaped market.
“But I want to bring you to my favorite one. We all think the soup is better here.” By we he means our host from Fairytale Organic Leisure Farm in his adopted hometown, Yi-Hsuan Chen, herself adept at the best her town’s market can offer. While we scarf down the mutton (this particular stall used a mix of spices that appealed to Calem’s Malaysian palate, and were indeed pronounced even to a destitute gourmand like myself), she had already gone off to line up at another stall that sold a Yilan delicacy that I can still taste, two months after the trip.
“Is that tofu?”, I ask innocently, not knowing any better. In her paper crucible is a few light brown squares shaped exactly like chicken nuggets, with an outer coating of what looked like bread crumbs. Yi-hsuan shakes her head vehemently, as if I had just asked an offensive question.
SHELL Treats
She fires off in rapid Mandarin an excited explanation of this little morsel, which Calem is quick to translate. “We call this gao-jha. It is made from minced pieces of pork, chicken and prawn that are mixed together to form a mulch. They are then cooked in a chicken stock for 5 hours until they become a paste. After that, they are coated with potato starch and deep fried.”
Blogger Leia Bartolome and I take one apiece and before we bite into it, we are warned: Careful, it is hot! The teeth cut through the crunchy crust easily, which releases the gummy, salty insides that ooze into the tongue like a scalding, beautiful hot mess. It is simultaneously savory from the chicken and pork, and a whole lot of umami from the shrimp, and altogether unforgettable. We rest our tongues a few seconds, still reeling from the rudeness of the temperature, before we dive in for more of the excruciatingly delicious process.
The perfect cooldown was a visit to their favorite douhua vendor, in a slightly darker corner off the main market. “He frowns on people taking photos of his wares, so just be discreet about it,” warns Calem. Burnt tongues were soon soothed with a refreshing bowl of taho (soft tofu or soybean pudding) served almost like the Filipino version, with a welcome twist. Their version came with a sugar sauce (white, not like our brown arnibal), choice of barley or peanuts (instead of the ubiquitous sago), and crushed ice.
Even after a taste of Taiwan’s infamous stinky tofu (which Calem’s associate Yu-Tzu Hsiao of Chiki buys from another special stall), it is the gao-jha that sticks to my mind’s tongue. It best describes the locals of Yilan, according to TTNews Reporter Huei-un Luo: “Gao-jha [is] a suitable term to describe the characters of residents in Yilan,” he says. “ Yilan people seem cold by their appearances, but they are actually passionate at heart.
In Taiwan, your food describes you.
(Come get to know Taiwan, meet Calem and the Taiwan Leisure Farm Association today at the Taiwan Tourism Workshop, 3pm, Radisson Blu Cebu)
