Putting food on your face

When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was “Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing” by Judy Blume. In particular, it was the chapter where little Fudge’s parents couldn’t get him to eat, so they brought him up to the bathtub and dumping food over his head. That inspired the phrase “eat it or wear it” which has stuck with me until this day.

It’s also the phrase that inspired us in this week’s edition of Feast Meets West. I thought to myself, ”How can we create a program in which we can get away with putting food on ourselves instead of in ourselves?” The safest answer, we discovered, was the ever-popular food-related facial. Keep reading to find out what I look like with a squash (loofah) facial plastered to my face and to get tips for creating your own facials from edible ingrediants.

We need your help getting out of bed!

Ellen and I have been having a hard time waking up in the morning and starting the day on a fresh note. So we’re holding a competition to learn about your suggestions for creating the perfect morning routine.

The deadline is midnight on Sunday, Nov. 8th (no matter where you are in the world), so send your entries ASAP! Keep reading to find out how to enter.

“Ideas worth sharing” from Taiwan

When Taiwanese living overseas think of “home”, they often reminisce about food. For Kevin Peng (pictured at left), who was born in Taiwan but grew up in Malaysia, those foods include oyster omelets, pork balls, and rice vermicelli among other things. Now that he lives in Taiwan, his food memories of Penang, Malaysia  include durians (the stinky fruit shaped like a spiky football) and nasi lemak (coconut rice).

More often than not, those foods are connected to other memories, stories and images of life in another land. Since returning to Taiwan several years ago, Kevin has been interested in learning more about the island of his birth.

Now, at TEDx Taipei (which will be held on Saturday, October 17th), Kevin and his collaborators Jason Hsu and Eric Tsai will showcase some of the most interesting people and stories from Taiwan. Together, they have curated a day-long event that aims to bring “ideas worth sharing” from Taiwan to the rest of the world.

How Taiwan’s national flower inspired a new way of eating

In 1964, Taiwan’s Cabinet adopted the plum blossom as the National Flower of the Republic of China. It’s a fitting pick for a government that was composed of the Chinese Nationalists who retreated to Taiwan after defeat by the Communists. That’s because the flower is known for its resilience in the brutal winters of Northern China.

Today it can be found on government signage, along the national highways, on Taiwan’s currency, and it’s even the logo of the national carrier – China Airlines.

The plum blossom was also the inspiration behind a way of eating that was popularized in Taiwan by former President Chiang Ching-kuo (Chiang Kai-shek’s son) in 1982.

Water, water, everywhere…

It’s hard to overestimate the importance that water plays in daily life here in Taiwan. We are surrounded by water, and yet there are often water shortages. Typhoons can bring enough rainwater to fill reservoirs, but it often comes at a price:  flooding and landslides like the ones that devastated southern Taiwan in August.

In the September 19th edition of Feast Meets West, we take a closer look at water. We’ll find out how the Chinese word for water — 水, “shui” — is used in idioms; discuss some unique water-related facts, plus introduce some great natural ways to add flavor to water.

Keep reading to find out which Feast Meets West host is pregnant!

“Sticky Rice Corn” from an Aboriginal Village

I’ve always associated corn with Native Americans. But indigenous Taiwanese serve it up too — and not just the mini-corn husks you see in stir-fry dishes.

In fact, big husks of sweet (and sometimes not-so-sweet) corn are sold on roadsides throughout rural Taiwan. It’s usually boiled or steamed with the husks intact. In urban night markets, you can find freshly-barbecued corn with Chinese herbs, sesame or sachar sauce.

In the US, only a small number of corn varieties are available to mass-market consumers (in part due to mass-production spurred on by fast food chains, and an overwhelming demand for sweet, yellow corn). People hoping to sample other varieties have to grow it themselves or look for it in farmer’s markets or specialty stores.

Blended food for dinner, yet again.

I arranged to have dinner with my friend Lars. After all, that’s what friends do – you eat, you have a few drinks, you chat.

But Lars has his mouth wired shut, so that puts a bit of a dent in the works. It means that Lars will be drinking his dinner, and I will be carrying the conversation.

We decide to order takeout from an Indian restaurant in the heart of Taipei. Lars had tired of the steady diet of blended yams and oatmeal that he’d been eating every couple of hours since he broke his jaw a couple weeks earlier. He’d become well acquainted with his blender because everything had to be pureed to a consistency that was thin enough to fit through the long, thin straw on his plastic water bottle.

The Connection between Dads and BBQ

One Taipei BBQ joint gives patrons marhmallows to roast, which are then dunked in something very unusual. Continue reading to find out what!

When it comes to dads and cooking, most people think of BBQ.

There’s something decidedly manly about the flames, the roar of the grill and huge slabs of meat. The communal nature of the activity — men gathered around a massive metal cooking machine wielding tongs, knives, some “tall cold ones” and baseball talk, is enough to separate the men from the boys. And when it comes to cooking steak, I am but a toddler.

Fortunately in this week’s Father’s Day edition of Feast Meets West, I’m joined by new father and BBQ afficionado Konraad Kordula, who shares his thoughts on fatherhood and his passion for grilling. But first, you may be wondering, how can August 8th be Father’s Day?!

A People for Whom Bitter Tastes Sweet

When I bite into the little green pumpkin-shaped fruit, a bitter, acidic juice spreads quickly through my mouth and makes a beeline for my throat.

“AAAAHHH!” I cry out in shock. Wang Lien-mei (王蓮妹), smiles at my reaction.

“For us, the Amis people, our lives are so bitter that we don’t taste the bitter in the gagoorroo,” she explains. “They taste sweet to us.”

I must have given her the most stupefied look in my repertoire, because she quickly explains how she has eaten the little green vegetables since she was a child. But I can’t imagine a life so bitter that these little bitter bombs could actually taste sweet.

What she tells me next stays with me long after the bitterness of the gagoorroo is gone.

I thought Taiwanese didn’t like it sweet.

Dunkin’ Donuts went under in Taiwan not once, but twice. Mister Donut changed his recipes to cater to local tastes. Krispy Kreme never even made it here.

Taiwanese people often complain that American food is too sweet. So can somebody explain dishes like “pineapple shrimp balls” (鳳梨蝦球): deep fried shrimp balls and pineapple chunks coated in sweet mayo and topped with (oh-no-they-didn’t!) colorful sprinkles?

Sweetness (甜) is one of the four flavors that people in Taiwan use to describe both food and life. But for a culture that doesn’t view dessert as the logical end to every meal, sweetness often pops up when you least expect it.