“Hold on to your humanity with everything you have.”
— Stef Kaufman-Mthimkhulu on The Slow Factory
I began writing this newsletter at 9.46pm on a Tuesday in February, after a day that began with brunch with my sister and her partner (and their dog), followed by beers with two of my best work friends (we began our careers together at the same place nearly two decades ago). And then I met two of my best friends from school for an early dinner, along with their respective partners and children (together they have six kids!). I was home by 8pm, utterly drained.
I was home for Lunar New Year for the second time since I moved to Melbourne, and while this routine of extreme socialising is exhausting, it is also affirming. A little part of my heart tightens a bit when I see how we’re all getting older. I start to feel the gratitude of making through another year relatively intact, while mourning the people we have lost, or are in the process of losing. It’s not a bad feeling, just an odd one.
My sisters and I spent ten days in Taiwan, connecting with relatives we haven’t seen in four years. My late mother was mentioned mostly in the context of memories—this was her favourite dish, that was her high school—and only once did an aunt say, “If only your mother was here.” I almost cried on the spot, surprising even myself. And then the feeling passed.
The Taiwan trip was the highlight of February, so I’m dedicating this newsletter to Taiwan and its spectacular food culture, which was and will always be a very special place to me. Taiwan is of course more than its food, but well, I like to eat, and I also think it’s nice to highlight aspects of Taiwanese cuisine that’s usually overlooked by travellers; most people know about night market street food, the bubble tea, the Taiwanese-style beef noodles, the smelly tofu, the braised pork rice (卤肉饭), but my childhood favourites deserve a shout-out.
Things (food) I enjoyed in Taiwan
“辦桌”, or bando cuisine. Bando means “setting a table” and it refers to the culture of “roadside” banquets in Taiwan, especially southern Taiwan and places like Yilan. These are veritable movable feasts, designed to to be set up whenever and wherever the occasion calls, from weddings to temple celebrations, to company end-of-year dinners, or even political rallies. The food is casual, homely, yet sumptuous and many of them have become signature dishes of the region, like 紅蟳米糕, which is mud crab steamed with glutinous rice, each crab generously studded with crab roe. My relatives in Tainan always bring me to 阿霞飯店 for bando, which began as a humble stall in front of a temple and has since graduated to shinier digs, but the food remains classically on point (at least two of my cousins had their weddings catered by 阿霞). Bando is something of a dying trade in Taiwan and it is highly unlikely you’ll be able to simply run into one if you’re travelling there, so restaurants like 阿霞 are a great way to sample the dishes.
Seafood on 东北角. 东北角 is a rain-soaked, foggy corner of Taiwan with amazing coastal views, quaint mining towns and teahouses straight out of a Miyazaki film, and of course, amazing food, particularly seafood. I don’t know what is it about Taiwanese cuisine, but the culture somehow manages to take the best of Chinese cooking—braising, steaming, stir-frying, fermenting—and transform it with a lighter, subtler hand. And this restaurant does that spectacularly well, letting the freshness of the seafood shine—the 龙虾麻油面面线, which is fine silky strands of rice vermicelli served in a broth of lobster, rice wine and ginger, topped with chunks of lobster and drizzled with sesame oil, was at once both luxurious and comforting. Reservations are a must and the restaurant only takes cash, and isn’t particularly comfortable with non-Mandarin speakers. Be warned.
Tofu shops in Taipei. If you ever have a chance to wander through a proper market in Taiwan (not a night market, but the ones where locals go to do their grocery shopping), look out for shops that sell tofu, because they often also sell tofu dishes meant to be taken away and enjoyed at home with rice. The inventiveness and deliciousness of it all will make you wonder (and weep over) why tofu is so boring everywhere else. My favourite was a dish of pressed tofu skin tossed in sesame oil, vinegar, scallions and black pepper (pictured below). Markets in Taipei (and all over Asia) can be messy, slightly shouty experiences, but this one in Taipei is fairly traveller-friendly (downright posh really). and yes, they have an excellent tofu shop.
A 台铁便当. These iconic bentos made by Taiwan Railways take me straight back to childhood. A braised pork chop sits on top of a bed of fluffy white rice (always perfectly steamed), with pickled vegetables, braised tofu and a braised hard-boiled egg arrayed around the sides, and it costs all of S$5. Pro-tip: If you are taking the high-speed rail (HSR), buy your bento in the train station before you board, because the bentos sold on HSR trains are sadly not as good.
Not Taiwan, but I also want to give a little shout-out to Singapore snack culture. I have been feasting on my favourite Lunar New Year snacks, which in Singapore comprise a melange of Chinese, Straits Chinese, Malay and Indonesian favourites. There’s bak kwa (barbecued meats dipped in a sugar and spice marinate before being air dried and roasted over charcoal), belinjo emping (Indonesian crackers made from belinjo nuts, which taste slightly sweet and bitter), and pineapple tarts (buttery cookies topped with caramelised pineapple jam), to name a few. Food culture in Singapore and Asia in general is unlike any other—you just need to take a stroll through the “food mall” of any Asian shopping centre to understand this. In Singapore, you’ll find staple snacks like curry puffs, fried chicken wings and egg tarts, right next to the latest hot Japanese confectionary trend commanding long queues. True, everything has become commercialised in the last 20 years but the food remains delicious and incredibly varied. It feels to me that food—snacks in particular—is an indulgence that we all take for granted in Singapore, and I’ve never felt it more after moving to Australia.
Favourite item of clothing of the month. I’m skipping my monthly outfit round-up this month, but I do want to show some love for my Beams utility trousers, which are really proving their worth on the road. They’re comfortable, easy to keep clean, work for both hot and cold climates, and just feel effortlessly cool. They were one of my favourite purchases of 2023, and I am very glad I splurged on them.
Shopping addendum
I bought a secondhand jumper in early February before I came to Singapore, which was totally unplanned but hopefully a piece I will appreciate when winter returns to Melbourne.
In Singapore, I was too busy to think about shopping but by mid-Feb, some FOMO feelings had returned. I saw someone on IG wearing an amazing Dries Van Noten coat (fall/winter 2017, his 100th collection and one I adore) and I immediately wanted to buy something, anything. I nearly bought a wool jacket on eBay for no reason other than just to buy something, but eventually the feeling passed. Nothing good can come out of “envy shopping”. I crave a truly amazing, take-your-breath-away find, and there are no substitutes; buying anything else in such a mood is just a waste of hard-earned money.
I was also tempted by the Uniqlo U spring ‘24 collection, especially a dusty lilac blouson jacket in the men’s collection—the colour and fit was lovely. The women’s collection had a similar one that I actually liked more; it was 100% cotton, lightly padded and had a more cocoon-like feel but the colours weren’t as appealing. There was also a parachute material knee-length skirt I really liked, and the men’s wide-fit chinos were incredibly tempting. It took quite a lot of willpower to walk away. But I think I’ll rather get something from the FW ‘23 collection, which will be launching in Australia this month (that’s Southern Hemisphere seasons for you!).
I was also surprised how much I like the Uniqlo: C version of their hugely popular crossbody bag—maybe it’s because it was billed as faux leather, I thought the texture would be icky but it’s really more of a shiny rubberised padded texture, and it actually looked quite cool. I nearly bought it because it added such a nice texture to outfits and it’s a wildly practical bag. But at the last minute, I forced myself to put it down. I’ve saving money to buy a Lemaire Croissant bag (I’m aiming for the medium), and I’m reluctant to go for what I suspect is a “placeholder”. So, the jury is out.
Meanwhile, the striped Lee Mathews shirt I was eyeing in January on Depop is still available, so I’m planning to buy it when I’m back in Melbourne (I may have ordered it by the time this scheduled post gets published). I bought a button-up shirt last year and really surprised myself by often I reached for it, so I’m happy to add a second one to my wardrobe; it’s a red-and-white striped so it should add a cute pop of colour to my outfits.
Finally, I was struck by this observation by Cathy Horyn, writing about the fall/winter ‘24 collections for The Cut:
There’s a formality running through women’s fashion. You could see it in the morning coats at Loewe, in the discretion of a black pencil skirt at The Row woven with wool and fine ribbon and shown with a white shirt and heels, and even in some of the jaunty looks at Chitose Abe’s Sacai. It’s not a dressiness, and it’s not “elevated.” It’s beyond fashion. And it’s easy to adapt on almost any budget.
I like this idea of formality. By formality I don’t mean traditional ideas of chic, or prim and “ladylike” clothing. This isn’t about “quiet luxury” or watching too much Feud, or aspiring to some fantasy of haute bourgeoisie living. This isn’t about prep or Ivy or a Milanese sciura. It isn’t about an aesthetic. It’s simply, a desire to dress in a way that recognises time, place and context, and paying attention to what’s around me.
I have more thoughts, but I’ll save that for a future newsletter ❤️.
Taiwan is such a beautiful, atmospheric place and I really want to go back. Saving your food recs for my next trip. Thank you for sharing such a lovely travelogue with us. I'm also often hit with a pang of bittersweetness when I reunite with family and friends for big holidays. Experiencing the passage of time with those we love brings with it so many complicated emotions. It's a regular reminder to not take anyone or anything for granted. PS I'm excited for your wishlist Lemaire bag! :)
My mouth is watering just reading about the descriptions of the food! Thank you for sharing a piece of your childhood with us and I hope to enjoy some of these items when I visit Taiwan one day.