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Breakfast stall customers are mostly local regulars who are at ease with one another and given to chatting about their families and other matters. A warm human touch and customized service are hallmarks of Taiwan breakfast culture.
If you ask 100 Taiwanese what they ate for breakfast, they’ll give you 101 different answers. How about Taiwanese-style dry noodles, vegetarian sticky rice dumplings, milkfish congee, rice noodle soup, plain congee with side dishes, or radish cake? Or try some dishes that originated in China, such as sesame seed cakes with fried dough sticks, soy milk, steamed buns with egg filling, sticky rice balls, and egg pancakes. Finally, there are Western-style hamburgers, sandwiches, toast, teppanyaki-style spaghetti, and milk tea. What a delightful dilemma of choice so early in the day!
Li Zhenming has long risen at 4:30 a.m. to make his congee soup base. Even today, at the age of 85, he still mans the stall, ladle in hand, making sure every bowl of congee tastes just right.
During the Japanese colonial era (1895–1945), most Taiwanese had clear rice congee with side vegetables for breakfast. After World War II, when soldiers and their families from different provinces in China decamped for Taiwan, soy milk, sesame-seed cakes and fried dough sticks began to appear on Taiwanese breakfast tables as the new arrivals brought with them their home cuisines and began to set up small eateries.
In 1981 Taiwan’s first Western-style breakfast joint, Mei Er Mei, opened, and 1984 saw the arrival of McDonalds. Employing standardized ingredients and cooking methods, Western-style breakfast places opened one after another, such that hamburgers, sandwiches, milk tea and coffee all became common breakfast foods here.
Different localities also have their own distinctive breakfast fare: In Taichung they like to eat thick noodle soup, whereas in Chiayi they eat shredded turkey meat on rice, and in Changhua braised pork on rice. These preferences are tied to local food production. In Tainan, where the Shanhua Market was Taiwan’s largest cattle market during the Japanese era, a popular breakfast option is beef. Needless to say, the beef in Tainan was always fresh, so restaurants would compete on the flavor of their soup base. Milkfish congee is also a regular choice for breakfast in Tainan, which is known as the “homeland of milkfish.”
“Anything can be turned into a breakfast,” enthuses Hsu Chia-ling, director of the Foundation of Chinese Dietary Culture. “That’s one of the interesting things about Taiwan.”
Speed, convenience, and the human touch“Many food scholars have pointed out that compared to other Asian nations, Taiwanese eat out for breakfast a lot,” Hsu says. Eating out for breakfast became a regular part of daily life here in the 1980s. With more women joining the workforce, double-income households grew in number along with demand for breakfasts to go. Western-style restaurants began providing quick and convenient options.
Louis K.H. Tsai, brand director for the breakfast chain My Warm Day, explains that local regulars comprise the bulk of breakfast store customers, and they tend to stick with what they like, ordering pretty much the same thing every day. Remembering customers’ favorites, staff can provide customized service. “It makes customers feel special and offers a strong human touch.”
Three generations of the Zheng family have worked at their zongzi stall. Already busily employed at the stall, Sisi Zheng (center) will carry their delicious legacy forward.
Through market research, Hsu Chia-ling discovered that Taiwanese people are very particular about the temperature of their food. They expect prepared meals to be served piping hot. Beverages, meanwhile, are available in a variety of temperatures, including cold, lukewarm, and hot, catering to customer preferences that may change with the weather.
“I feel that the temperature of food is an important determinant of satisfaction for Taiwanese,” Tsai says. He describes how convenience stores, which also sell breads and sandwiches, became a major rival of breakfast restaurants ten years ago, but he notes there has been a gradual shift back to breakfast restaurants because everyone likes hot food. Serving food hot, which conveys the feeling that “this was made for you,” provides an ample “human touch.”
Milkfish congee in TainanThe congee stall located next to the San Guan Da Di Temple in Tainan’s South District has been serving the local community for over 40 years. Its 85-year-old proprietor, Li Zhenming, rises at 4:30 a.m., lights the gas stove, and starts simmering the soup base with milkfish bones. Then he cooks some fish belly, blanches fish skin, and prepares oysters, working tirelessly by the stove until around 6:10 a.m. when he opens the stall for business.
The stall opened in 1976. “We are actually the second milkfish congee vendor in Tainan. The first one is located near Shi Jing Ju,” says Li. The menu on the wall lists only a few items: fish congee, fish skin congee, and fish skin congee with oysters. All are made with locally sourced ingredients.
Li Zhenming recalls that milkfish didn’t use to be available year round, so their fish congee was only sold from the second to the tenth month of the lunar calendar. His wife, Li Cai Meiyun, explains that the soup base is cooked fresh every day. Six kilograms or so of fish bones have to be simmered for half an hour. “Our soup base is naturally sweet,” she adds. The rice in the fish congee is also carefully selected. They use only indica rice that can withstand being boiled with the soup.
Most of the customers are regulars. When elderly customers sit down, they shout out their orders: “One bowl of fish skin and oysters.” “Two bowls of congee, extra rice.” “Keep the bones in the fish.” Then you see Li Zhenming picking a few oysters and skillfully managing the cooking time of the fish skin and fish belly at the stove. He ladles some soup over the ingredients, sprinkles white pepper and celery seeds on top, and brings the bowl to the customer’s table. Having a bowl of fish congee is a morning ritual for many people in Tainan, marking the start of their day.
Mainlanders who decamped for Taiwan with the rise of the PRC brought with them breakfast yearnings for soy milk, fried dough sticks, and sesame seed cakes.
At 5:30 in the morning, in front of the Shatao Temple in the West Central District of Tainan, the Zheng family’s zongzi (leaf-wrapped rice dumpling) stall is bustling with activity. As they greet customers, the family of three works together unwrapping the zongzi from their leaves, drizzling them with their special sauce, adding a swirl of fragrant oil, sprinkling finely chopped cilantro on top, and serving them with a bowl of miso soup. Their movements are quick and smoothly coordinated.
The stall, under the banyan tree in front of the temple, has been in business for 74 years. The second-generation owner, Zheng Shinan, explains that he learned his craft from his father. They used to sell meat dumplings and vegetarian dumplings. But Taiwanese people prefer lighter breakfast options, and the meat dumplings didn’t sell well, so now vegetarian dumplings are all that they offer.
The only ingredients in their dumplings are glutinous rice and peanuts. They wrap them in shell ginger leaves rather than bamboo and don’t add peanut powder. Zheng’s wife, Wu Peijin, says they are afraid peanut powder would overpower the fragrance of the leaves. Though the ingredients are simple, the zongzi take a lot of time and effort to make. Zheng notes that shell ginger leaves are thicker than bamboo leaves. After being washed, they are boiled to soften them. “Our dumplings are cooked in water overnight. They go on the stove at 10 p.m. and come off around 4 a.m. That ensures the peanuts are fully cooked and the fragrance of the leaves and peanuts blend together. They must be boiled for five hours.”
Zheng points to the building across from the Shatao Temple: “That used to be Tainan’s biggest wholesale vegetable market. Early on, our customers were all stallholders there. They’d typically set up at midnight and operate until three or four, by which point they were getting hungry. So my father would open after three and close after seven.”
Zheng Shinan’s daughter Sisi Zheng is also working at the stall now and eventually will take over. Long live these delicious treats!
Shi Jie Soymilk KingMr. Zhuang, manager of Shi Jie Soymilk King in Yonghe, says that the establishment was founded in 1955. The founder was Li Yunzeng, a native of Shandong. Along with a friend, he started the business using a pushcart. He then went on to open a store, extending business hours from six or seven in the evening to nine or ten the following morning. In the 1970s, when television sets were still a rarity, people would crowd into homes with televisions to watch Taiwan play in the Little League World Series. When the games were over, it was already getting light out and they’d gather at the shop in Yonghe to drink soy milk. The shop quickly moved to 24-hour operations. “We began opening 24 hours a decade ahead of 7-Eleven.”
The main items Shi Jie Soymilk sells are soy milk, fried dough sticks and sesame-seed cakes. Zhuang emphasizes that their soy milk is made with 100% non-GMO soybeans with a protein content as high as 35%. The slightly burnt aroma of the beans helps to bring out the special flavor of soy milk. The sesame-seed cakes are made using scalded dough, which makes them crispy. The savory soy milk contains fried shrimp, deep-fried dough sticks, chopped green onion, and pickled radish, with a little vinegar added. These additions transform the soymilk such that foreign visitors are inclined to exclaim: “I don’t know what I’m eating exactly, but whatever it is, it sure hits the spot!”
The restaurant’s clientele comes from Taiwan and abroad. Luminaries such as the American food show host Anthony Bourdain, members of the Japanese girl group Morning Musume, and the Hong Kong actor Chow Yun-fat have all eaten here. A few years ago, the place was renovated to spruce up its image. Despite being in business for more than 70 years, it is continuing to develop new dishes like sesame-seed-cake sandwiches filled with beef or pickled mustard greens. “We are not bound by tradition” is how the store manager puts it. “We are a very contemporary old shop.”
My Warm Day (MWD) features a breakfast menu that runs the gamut from Taiwanese-style daikon radish cakes to Western-style hamburgers.
Founded in 1987, the chain My Warm Day (MWD) has survived 36 years amid fierce competition. Louis Tsai points to the menu’s proud declaration that “no artificial preservatives have been added to any item.” That accomplishment is the result of a lot of work by MWD over recent years. He explains that their sauces—such as their jams (which are particular favorites of children) and their soy-sauce-based dipping sauce—posed the biggest challenges. But MWD set a target of providing all its customers, young and old alike, with safe food: “We influenced both our suppliers and our franchisees,” he recalls. “The entire industry has been pushed to change…. When the breakfast industry faces a crisis, it adapts.”
He looks back at some key milestones for the chain: In 2005, attuned to changing lifestyles, it introduced a line of “exquisite breakfasts.” With work schedules changing, more and more people “were coming in for late breakfasts or early lunches.” In 2010, MWD installed coffee grinders in their shops. In 2012 they reconfigured their cooking, counter and sitting areas, separating the kitchen’s smoke and smells from the areas visited by customers. In 2014 the company reoriented its corporate branding, emphasizing its atmosphere and dining experience. And it launched fish and chicken dishes as it steadily moved in a more health-conscious direction.
Breakfast restaurants are a unique part of Taiwan’s streetscape. Just as MWD has evolved in step with the needs of consumers, breakfast restaurant culture here more generally represents a microcosm of Taiwanese society.
For more pictures, please click 《The Best Way to Start the Day!—Breakfasts in Taiwan》
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