Sanma Magazine Issue 42: Taiwanese-Flavor Japanese Eats We Crave Now

What We Eat Is Taiwanese Flavor There's an unnamed Japanese restaurant in Ximending. It's less a "Japanese restaurant" and more a "stir-fry joint that happens to serve Japanese food." The ground floor offers oden, with no menu. You point to what you want from the pots, and the prices are only revealed after the owner has generously portioned it out, often leaving first-time visitors feeling a little apprehensive. Upstairs is the dining area, with dishes like omelet rice and oyako-don, seemingly from a traditional Japanese eatery. Yet, you'll also find platters of bamboo shoots, grilled chicken legs, and clam soup with ginger shreds. Diners sit on red chairs, drink from Taiwanese beer glasses, and can choose from plum juice or Gold Medal beer in the fridge. With a clientele composed entirely of regulars, this is the picture of the unnamed Japanese restaurant. When I was a child, my dad would detour to this place on our way home from school, ordering a bowl of fried udon for me to eat in the car. That's where my entire memory of "udon" began: noodles soaked in a slightly salty broth, stir-fried with shredded pork and bok choy. Sometimes the noodles were a bit too soft and wet, other times just right, each bowl feeling like a lottery of the chef's mood that day. As far as udon dishes go, this fried udon is certainly not the best example. Yet, even after traveling to the birthplaces of udon in Kagawa and Akita and trying the most exquisite udon dishes, my taste buds still tell me that the fried udon my dad ordered to reward me after school, to make me happy with "Japanese food," was the truly best one. And it became my initial memory of Japanese cuisine. Some say Japanese restaurants in Taiwan anger Japanese people. The sashimi is too thick, there's pork floss in the sushi, and why are there meatballs in the miso soup? "Taiwanese-style" Japanese cuisine isn't just about changing the appearance or modifying the ingredients; more often, what we eat is the persistence of the older generation: celebrating with a lavish meal at a Japanese restaurant, ordering large portions for satisfaction at the table, and incorporating beloved seasonal ingredients. Beyond the core Japanese dish, that rich layer of emotion represents Taiwanese family relationships, the generous spirit among friends, and the affection for children. While craftsmanship, ingredients, and culinary traditions are important, Taiwanese-style Japanese cuisine, which has flourished here since the Japanese colonial era, has already become our own flavor. This issue's theme, "Taiwanese-Flavor Japanese Eats," explores three old cities—Keelung, Chiayi, and Kaohsiung—with deep connections to Japan. We embark on a culinary journey and invite three food enthusiasts from different generations to discuss the spirit of Japanese cuisine in Taiwan. "Having genuinely accompanied several generations of Taiwanese, it has long been an integral part of our food culture." As writer Hung Ai-chu, interviewed in this issue, says, the Japanese food we have in Taiwan has flavors we love, uses local ingredients, and has memories rooted in this land. Taiwanese-flavor Japanese eats have already become a unique and proud new cuisine of Taiwan.