Tastes of Taipei
Continuing the trend of confusion-saturated starts to the weekend, I decided today to pay a visit to the Taipei World Trade Center--right across the street from Taipei 101--to partake in the annual Taipei Chinese Food Festival. It was like food nirvana: Iron Chef-like competitions (in which I didn't know what was happening), cooking classes (which I couldn't understand), promotional materials (which I couldn't read), and a fair number of free samples (which I sure could taste). While I finally got to my desired destination, it wasn't without a fair share of annoyance coupled with ignorance and bone-headedness on my part.
Arriving around 2:00 with an intentionally empty stomach, I ravenously searched for the entrance of the festival. The bus dropped me off at the WTC, and I saw an exhibition hall with tons of people around it and congregating around the crosswalk, with the freebie bags indicative of conventions. I quickly got in line and bought a ticket for $200NT. Whew, I thought. Not so bad.
I suddenly realized thereafter the consequences of not being able to read. As I approached the doorway, I saw throngs of dogs and other furry critters with their owners. I thought that was slightly odd and kind of unsanitary in a culinary convention but considering I am a devout follower of the 10-second rule and a little pet hair never hurt anybody, I decided to roll with it. As I crossed the threshold, my heart sunk and I wanted to kick myself. All I could think of was I needed one of those spring-loaded boots characteristic of cartoons, when uncranked would boot the deserving idiot far across the room or perhaps into another county. I looked around and saw fish tanks, dog toys, and other weird weird things not characteristic of fine Asian cuisine. I pulled out the ticket I just purchased and glanced over the promotional materials the workers bestowed upon me, only to discover I had just purchased a $200NT all-day ticket to the AQUAPETS convention.
Crrrrrap.
It actually wasn't as lame as it sounds--it was lamer. I proceeded to make my way from the front door straight to the back door, stopping very briefly in between to bear witness to the madness. After tripping over a myriad of leashes, watching grown men and women jump and scream for free dog food, and wondering how and why on earth some people even choose to keep certain animals as pets, I finally made my way to the exit. In a mere few hundred yards I saw more flavors of fish food than I ever have in my life (newsflash: they're fish, I don't think they care) and a creative fashion line for ferrets (I can't even begin to comment on this one. There are just too many ways I can run with it.).
I stepped out of the backside of the building and looked to the top and noticed the sign 'TWTC Hall 3.' Using my excellent street smarts and travel savviness, I concluded that there should also be a WTC Hall 1 and 2, if not more. However, this building 3 seemed to be isolated, and I couldn't figure out for the life of me where the others were. I then remembered during my first trip to 101 I had meandered over to the TWTC Exhibition Hall, which is different than the numbered halls, so I figured I might have success there. I arrived, only to see pictures of sofas and lamps (I made sure to examine the signs this time) indicating the Domestic Furniture Show. What is with all these insanely boring conventions??? Augh!!!
Dejected, I made one last effort and walked around the corner in case there happened to be a back side I didn't know about. I knew the festival was this weekend and I knew it was here, but I was about to accept it was in an isolated place I just couldn't find. As I walked down the side, I still saw signs for chairs and dining room sets, and every door that opened outward had furniture aficionados ebulliently departing from the indoors. I took a few more steps, and finally saw one sign that said 'Chinese Taipei Food Festival.' Score! It was in the same hall as the furniture show, with the furniture taking about 2/3 of the floor space and the food taking about 1/3. I could feel my facial muscles flex upward, and I made my way to buy a ticket and sample the declicacies of a nation.
I wandered around and saw beautiful displays of foods from differing regions as well as themes in Taiwan. Many were exhibits constructed by major hotels and restaurants as exhibition and/or competition pieces, and representatives were also present to provide promotional outlets for their respective businesses. Unfortunately the descriptions of the dishes were only in Chinese so I couldn't make out all of the ingredients, but I could still appreciate the sheer artistry and magnitude of the endeavor. (This is why my other back-up career is pastry chef. Or I guess I could be a cycling columist by day, cake designer by night. What do you think?) I saw judges with clipboards walking around, giving the impression there was definitely a competitive aspect to the whole thing. I don't know what the reward was, if anything, but you know the big guns are going to bring their best if they are putting their names and reputations on the line.
I walked around some more, trying to avoid all the video cameras of news stations at the event. Then I turned around and saw one of them following me. Oh, a white person! (I was the only one in the joint.) It was like they were safari expeditioners following a giraffe in its native habitat. I would walk and they would follow, and then I would turn around and they would stop. I just smiled and shook it off, resigned to the fact that I would end up somewhere on the Taipei newscast that evening. That fate was pretty much sealed a few minutes later.
I walked by one of the sample booths, and a very nice girl who was working it (about my age) chatted with me and after a few words came out of my mouth, asked me if I could speak Chinese. I gave my standard textbook response: Yes, in America, for three years at my university, but I studied simplified, not traditional, so I can't read anything, blah blah blah. During this time the chefs (or organization) she was working for were demonstrating how to make lemon aiyu jelly, a very popular and native drink to the island. I had one at Shilin, but it was very sweet, and this type was much milder. The cameramen came over and did close-ups on the whole process, with the ice baths and the swirling and the works. I too watched closely, oblivious to the already-formed winding line for free samples. After completion, the girl with whom I was takling simply went over and fetched a cup and brought me back some to taste, saving me the duty of standing in an endless line. Ka-ching! She asked me if I liked it, and our conversation continued. The cameramen noticed this and thought we were the best things since zebras and lions, so he came on over with his posse and stood like a tree with the camera rolling as we conversed. A short while later I thanked her for the jelly and continued to circle around the exhibition hall.
The next line I stood in was for a sample of chicken in sauce. The sponsoring company was also giving away free bags with stuff inside although I'm not sure what, but in true convention spirit I made my way over and took whatever they gave me. The announcer was using a microphone and talking very quickly and loudly to get people's attention (they do that a LOT here), and then saw me and I heard a 'Waiguo ren,' at which point he started speaking English. I raised an eyebrow, and he said, 'Chicken and barbeque sauce. Very good, please try!' I gave him a nod and said 'Xie xie,' and he proceeded to reply 'Ooooh, she speaks Chinese!' through the microphone, at which point everyone in line stared at me. Oh the price of being Caucasian.
I meandered to other booths and tasted things like special beef soup, seaweed, moon cakes, pastries, pork and sausages, soy sauces, fruit vinegar, oyster sauce, and in the process managed to make up a new game called 'Guess That Pickled Thing.' I moseyed further and purchased silver, collapsible chopsticks (hey, every girl needs a pair) and a book on Chinese cooking (one of the only English titles they had). The author of the book happened to be there at the time, so he signed it for me! I also spoke a little Chinese here and there throughout the hall with certain booth or restaurant owners. The day just reinforced the notion that the more educated and refined crowd, particularly the younger population, will speak with you if you do. However, the older and less educated generations won't give you the time of day even if you say everything perfectly. They don't understand that anyone other than natives can speak Chinese, so they won't even give you a chance.
After the festival I headed over to the movie complex again, this time avoiding any human interaction via the automated card machine, and finally saw 'Over the Hedge.' It really is a great little flick, and I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone, not just the little ones. It's got wit that adults can enjoy, and I think all the characters are great, particularly Hammy the Squirrel (Steve Carrell is brilliant), who is my ultimate favorite.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I don't know what I'm doing and hadn't made any plans, which is kind of sad given I like to get together with my friends on my birthday and do anything at all--it doesn't matter what we do, just so long as we're hanging out. Oh well. I guess it's one more thing in which I will learn to be independent.
Arriving around 2:00 with an intentionally empty stomach, I ravenously searched for the entrance of the festival. The bus dropped me off at the WTC, and I saw an exhibition hall with tons of people around it and congregating around the crosswalk, with the freebie bags indicative of conventions. I quickly got in line and bought a ticket for $200NT. Whew, I thought. Not so bad.
I suddenly realized thereafter the consequences of not being able to read. As I approached the doorway, I saw throngs of dogs and other furry critters with their owners. I thought that was slightly odd and kind of unsanitary in a culinary convention but considering I am a devout follower of the 10-second rule and a little pet hair never hurt anybody, I decided to roll with it. As I crossed the threshold, my heart sunk and I wanted to kick myself. All I could think of was I needed one of those spring-loaded boots characteristic of cartoons, when uncranked would boot the deserving idiot far across the room or perhaps into another county. I looked around and saw fish tanks, dog toys, and other weird weird things not characteristic of fine Asian cuisine. I pulled out the ticket I just purchased and glanced over the promotional materials the workers bestowed upon me, only to discover I had just purchased a $200NT all-day ticket to the AQUAPETS convention.
Crrrrrap.
It actually wasn't as lame as it sounds--it was lamer. I proceeded to make my way from the front door straight to the back door, stopping very briefly in between to bear witness to the madness. After tripping over a myriad of leashes, watching grown men and women jump and scream for free dog food, and wondering how and why on earth some people even choose to keep certain animals as pets, I finally made my way to the exit. In a mere few hundred yards I saw more flavors of fish food than I ever have in my life (newsflash: they're fish, I don't think they care) and a creative fashion line for ferrets (I can't even begin to comment on this one. There are just too many ways I can run with it.).
I stepped out of the backside of the building and looked to the top and noticed the sign 'TWTC Hall 3.' Using my excellent street smarts and travel savviness, I concluded that there should also be a WTC Hall 1 and 2, if not more. However, this building 3 seemed to be isolated, and I couldn't figure out for the life of me where the others were. I then remembered during my first trip to 101 I had meandered over to the TWTC Exhibition Hall, which is different than the numbered halls, so I figured I might have success there. I arrived, only to see pictures of sofas and lamps (I made sure to examine the signs this time) indicating the Domestic Furniture Show. What is with all these insanely boring conventions??? Augh!!!
Dejected, I made one last effort and walked around the corner in case there happened to be a back side I didn't know about. I knew the festival was this weekend and I knew it was here, but I was about to accept it was in an isolated place I just couldn't find. As I walked down the side, I still saw signs for chairs and dining room sets, and every door that opened outward had furniture aficionados ebulliently departing from the indoors. I took a few more steps, and finally saw one sign that said 'Chinese Taipei Food Festival.' Score! It was in the same hall as the furniture show, with the furniture taking about 2/3 of the floor space and the food taking about 1/3. I could feel my facial muscles flex upward, and I made my way to buy a ticket and sample the declicacies of a nation.
I wandered around and saw beautiful displays of foods from differing regions as well as themes in Taiwan. Many were exhibits constructed by major hotels and restaurants as exhibition and/or competition pieces, and representatives were also present to provide promotional outlets for their respective businesses. Unfortunately the descriptions of the dishes were only in Chinese so I couldn't make out all of the ingredients, but I could still appreciate the sheer artistry and magnitude of the endeavor. (This is why my other back-up career is pastry chef. Or I guess I could be a cycling columist by day, cake designer by night. What do you think?) I saw judges with clipboards walking around, giving the impression there was definitely a competitive aspect to the whole thing. I don't know what the reward was, if anything, but you know the big guns are going to bring their best if they are putting their names and reputations on the line.
I walked around some more, trying to avoid all the video cameras of news stations at the event. Then I turned around and saw one of them following me. Oh, a white person! (I was the only one in the joint.) It was like they were safari expeditioners following a giraffe in its native habitat. I would walk and they would follow, and then I would turn around and they would stop. I just smiled and shook it off, resigned to the fact that I would end up somewhere on the Taipei newscast that evening. That fate was pretty much sealed a few minutes later.
I walked by one of the sample booths, and a very nice girl who was working it (about my age) chatted with me and after a few words came out of my mouth, asked me if I could speak Chinese. I gave my standard textbook response: Yes, in America, for three years at my university, but I studied simplified, not traditional, so I can't read anything, blah blah blah. During this time the chefs (or organization) she was working for were demonstrating how to make lemon aiyu jelly, a very popular and native drink to the island. I had one at Shilin, but it was very sweet, and this type was much milder. The cameramen came over and did close-ups on the whole process, with the ice baths and the swirling and the works. I too watched closely, oblivious to the already-formed winding line for free samples. After completion, the girl with whom I was takling simply went over and fetched a cup and brought me back some to taste, saving me the duty of standing in an endless line. Ka-ching! She asked me if I liked it, and our conversation continued. The cameramen noticed this and thought we were the best things since zebras and lions, so he came on over with his posse and stood like a tree with the camera rolling as we conversed. A short while later I thanked her for the jelly and continued to circle around the exhibition hall.
The next line I stood in was for a sample of chicken in sauce. The sponsoring company was also giving away free bags with stuff inside although I'm not sure what, but in true convention spirit I made my way over and took whatever they gave me. The announcer was using a microphone and talking very quickly and loudly to get people's attention (they do that a LOT here), and then saw me and I heard a 'Waiguo ren,' at which point he started speaking English. I raised an eyebrow, and he said, 'Chicken and barbeque sauce. Very good, please try!' I gave him a nod and said 'Xie xie,' and he proceeded to reply 'Ooooh, she speaks Chinese!' through the microphone, at which point everyone in line stared at me. Oh the price of being Caucasian.
I meandered to other booths and tasted things like special beef soup, seaweed, moon cakes, pastries, pork and sausages, soy sauces, fruit vinegar, oyster sauce, and in the process managed to make up a new game called 'Guess That Pickled Thing.' I moseyed further and purchased silver, collapsible chopsticks (hey, every girl needs a pair) and a book on Chinese cooking (one of the only English titles they had). The author of the book happened to be there at the time, so he signed it for me! I also spoke a little Chinese here and there throughout the hall with certain booth or restaurant owners. The day just reinforced the notion that the more educated and refined crowd, particularly the younger population, will speak with you if you do. However, the older and less educated generations won't give you the time of day even if you say everything perfectly. They don't understand that anyone other than natives can speak Chinese, so they won't even give you a chance.
After the festival I headed over to the movie complex again, this time avoiding any human interaction via the automated card machine, and finally saw 'Over the Hedge.' It really is a great little flick, and I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone, not just the little ones. It's got wit that adults can enjoy, and I think all the characters are great, particularly Hammy the Squirrel (Steve Carrell is brilliant), who is my ultimate favorite.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I don't know what I'm doing and hadn't made any plans, which is kind of sad given I like to get together with my friends on my birthday and do anything at all--it doesn't matter what we do, just so long as we're hanging out. Oh well. I guess it's one more thing in which I will learn to be independent.
posted by Shannon @ 10:25 PM
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