Lunch

Forty years ago, a woman moved to Taipei from somewhere along the boarder between China and Vietnam.  To support herself, she began selling traditional Vietnamese and Cantonese food.  Today, her niece works many hours alongside her preparing the meat rolls without a pause.  

There are no large signs announcing this simple, out of the way shop, yet word seemed to have gotten around as there was a steady flow of customers at 10:30 in the morning.  There are a few tables, a counter to pay, a refrigerator with chilled items and this simple table where she sits and prepares the meat rolls.  

Steadily she works through the process, over and over.  A ladle of rice milk.  The recipe for the watery rice substance is an important family secret.  The consistency must be exact or the gelatinous rice won't stick together or be the correct thickness to wrap into a roll.  She pours the white liquid onto a drum that looks like it is strung with a dense fabric.  Steam rises from within the drum, through the fabric to cook the mixture.  She swirls the liquid with the bottom of the ladle a few times and covers it with a lid before turning her attention to the aluminum tray in front of her.  After stroking some oil onto her work surface, she removes the lid where the steam has been magically solidifying the rice into a sticky, clear sheet.  With a wooden spatula she cuts the rice sheet into two and puts half in front of her.  She spoons about a tablespoon of meat onto the rice, then tucks in the ends and rolls the sheet of rice up into a spring roll type package.  Quickly the other half is made into a roll and she begins the process again.  Within five minutes, she has a box of 10 meat rolls ready to go.  People wander in and out ordering several boxes at a time.  

My friend went to the refrigerator and grabbed the last two paper cups of coconut soup.  Dessert they declared!    Several more people filed in, their mopeds waiting outside.  Several of them turned away in disappointment when they discovered that we had taken the last of the soup.  Obviously, this was going to be a treat.

A pile of wrapped banana leaves caught my attention.  About the size of my fist, the tightly wrapped packages were tied with string.  The fresh scent of fresh cut greenness caught my attention.  The simpleness of it all was startlingly refreshing.  Banana leaves are used all over the world to cook, transport and store food in.

I carried my treasures in a little pastel, striped plastic bag back to the car.  I was excited about sharing this culinary adventure with Chad.

We sat at the desk in his office and unpacked the food.  Interesting is the best way to describe everything.  Not a single thing was like anything I am used to.  The steamed rice meat rolls were gelatinous with little flavor.  We dipped them in a fresh broth they had sent in a little plastic bag, neatly knotted to prevent spillage.  My favorite was the sticky rice inside the banana leaves.  Inside the rice was crushed peanuts and chicken.  Peanuts are a favorite flavor here in Taiwan.  You can buy peanuts by the bag along the road, or peanut butter in your pizza crust from Dominos.  Dessert was basically a chilled, thick, coconut, tapioca soup.  The slight sweetness was a nice way to finish off this adventure of a meal.