TAIWIN!!!

Run, don't walk, to Taiwan. A land so full of beauty and dumplings that it is the main source of contention between the USA and China, Taiwan is a study of contrasts - sometimes it rains, and sometimes it is 42 degrees Celcius. But it is always delicioso, as they say in the local Mandarin dialect.

My culinary conquest begins in Taipei. It then goes the speed of the seatrain down to Tainan (!!!) and then to Kaoshiung (Gow-Shung). The key feature of Taiwan is the Night-Market. A magical world of whimsy and stinky tofu, night-markets sprout the most delicious of all of Jah's creations - xiaochi (SNACKS).

As you can see, the cornucopia of dumplings and dim sum is too much for this awed pilgrim.

But. I. Digress. Night-Markets are the forums of food foreplay in Taiwan. Where you need to go are the street restaurants. As delicious and multipurposed as an open-faced sandwich, these restaurants provide dining al fresco, because the shop itself is tucked neatly into the building. And abounding through the restaurant is a specialty. Only one type of food.

Exhibit A: Shan Yu AKA eeeeeeeeeeeeel noodles.

This Mandarin Michaelangelo crafted a Tainanese delicacy with a most underrated and underused delight - the eel. The eel is neglected in much of Chinese cooking but is fondly known to many as Unagi in Japanese cuisine. Oftentimes the only cooked item on a sushi menu, Unagi is often accompanied by a sweet brown sauce that complements the simultaneously succulent and sandpapery texture. People fear the eel. They fear the eel not for its eeriness but for its culinary power.

The eels you can see in their devious red glow, beckoning to the instincts. It kind of looks like ductile liver. But damn. You see the soy and the other type of brown sauce there as well. In the back right you see the onions, which are never an unwelcome guest. The noodles are cooked and let rest in the bowl in which the eel-lord serves them.

The owner of the eel noodle shopped almost refused to serve us, saying we white folk (I was with Brother Isaac) dislike the unusual foodstuff. We dispelled this bald-faced lie with each delightful slurp n' swig of the original Tainan Treat.

The pan-fried eel is as slithery on the tongue as its motion through the water, but its thin bones slide along the tongue like a file. The flavor cuts like a knife. Well, not really, but it's delightful. They were served in a sweetish brown sauce, slightly thickened with starch. Alternately, the eel noodle was served with a sweet salt (the first picture above). I give it an A+, but I'm not sure where you can find it outside Tainan.

Up Next: SEAFOOD SEATACULAR!

  -JK