Finally, free from quarantine after two weeks locked in a small room—which, thanks to the abundant kindness of my jailers and the abounding fruits of the Internet, was not so bad as I had imagined it might be—I was allowed to venture into the new world to see what there is to see.
And to eat.
The one thing everyone raves most about Taiwan is the food, and fantasies about all the tastes I’d soon be privileged to partake not only passed the time, but seemed to justify my solitude, truly as if I were paying for my rights by serving a short sentence.
It’s a fact of life that the surest path to the human heart is through the stomach. A careful reading of the national catchcry might even reveal a subtle boast about its culinary prowess: The Heart of Asia—an arterial map for the food travellers of the world, because when it comes to delectable regional cuisines, all roads inevitably lead here.
If you do consider yourself a “foodie”—or even if you don’t but love good food nonetheless and will travel for the culinary arts—Taiwan, and specifically Taipei, is a must.
Free, at last, I was eager to try ba-wan, or Taiwanese meatballs, a popular fried dumpling dish with chewy dough made from either taro or bamboo shoots (your choice) stuffed with meat filling, and then steamed or fried (choose again) and served smothered in a sweet gravy.
Like any West Coastal American worth his salt, I’ve tried a wide variety of Chinese foods—and even a significant share of specifically Taiwanese fare. But ba-wan is a plate that has yet to carve out much of a niche stateside, so this was a first for me. And certainly, I hope, just the first first of many firsts to come.
At Formosa Meatballs 寶島肉圓 (PY: Bǎodǎo Ròuyuán) on Roosevelt Road in Wenshan District, our ba-wan came to the table quickly, before we could finish our soup.
Ba-wan has its origin in Taiwan’s rich street food tradition and sits among the heights of the local comfort food scene. A sweet and savory dish—the ones we tried were fried taro “skins” with a rich pork filling. The first bites are slightly textured with a crunch that quickly gives way to the savory tenderness of the dough and meat filling, all of it swimming in gravy.
After a couple bites you notice the tables are set with condiments, a sweet spicey sauce in bottles and small bowls of freshly prepared red chili peppers—I’m told they’re homemade at Formosa Meatballs 寶島肉圓. Surprisingly, the piquant acidity and mild spice of the peppers was an absolutely perfect match to these ba-wan, transforming the flavor by both pronouncing the umami while piercing it with its tanginess, the earthy notes of the pepper now rounding out an entirely new sensation in your mouth. The sweetness of the gravy cuts the heat enough to make these bites tolerable to even more sensitive tongues, so it would certainly be a mistake to skip this pairing.
All said, a lovely first taste of freedom on this tiny island on the new frontier of liberal democracy, and a perfect meal for a rainy day. Take a friend, and your appetite.
