The next Taiwanese delicacy was a revelation for me when I first encountered it. I didn’t expect to like it—there were clearly intestines in it. Of course I tried it. My guiding culinary principle is to try everything. To my amazement, I enjoyed every mouthful and have since overcome any squeamishness about eating poop tubes. (See: Gross Out Porn for the Armchair Traveler).
We’re talking about one of the quintessential Taiwanese dishes, Oyster Vermicelli.
If you’re going to try it, you’ll need to learn to say it in Taiwanese. You won’t get far ordering it in Mandarin. The characters are 蚵仔麵線 pronounced ô-á mī-sòaⁿ in Taiwanese. Using the Roman alphabet to transliterate produces some pretty incomprehensible spellings; Oamisoir, Oh Ahh Mee Sua, Orh Aaa Mee Suan, etc. It’s a bit of a mouthful. Here’s my two-bit Taiwanese lesson: The first syllable (ô) is pronounced ehh, like someone just farted in your face or punched you in the stomach; the next two syllables are easy (á) is pronounced ahh, like you just had an epiphany; (mī) is the same as the English pronoun me; and, (sòaⁿ) is hard to describe, it is a bit like saying the first part of suave, but then having the rest of the word get stuck in your throat, and become a guttural nng sound, while your tone simultaneously drops, and your mouth widens at the corners, like you’re grimacing. Make of that what you will. I suck at languages, so grain of salt.
Taiwanese Oyster Vermicelli is a soup. It has a delightful woodiness that comes from the Japanese smoked bonito flakes (katsuobushi) in the soup stock. The stock is geng (焿 or 羹), meaning thickened, usually with starch, giving it a smooth and slimy texture. Many Taiwanese soups are prepared this way. The vermicelli is made primarily of wheat flour, formed into noodles and steamed until tan-brown. The process allows it to be cooked for a long time without breaking down. The main ingredients are rounded out by oyster and intestines. If you order 蚵仔麵線 Oyster Vermicelli in Taipei you can assume it’ll include intestines, unless you specify otherwise. However, if you want to be very precise you can order 蚵仔大腸麵線 Oyster and Braised Intestine Vermicelli.
The soup is garnished with cilantro. Garlic paste and spice may be added. To suit my own taste, I generally add vinegar to any geng soup stock. The soup itself is a full-flavored hearty blend, dominated—but not overwhelmed—by the fish flakes, with oyster providing a touch of the sea, and just a soupçon of shit on the palate from the intestines. It is a well-balanced blend of flavors. The vermicelli, because it’s been cooked for a long time, is very tender. It hits the spot perfectly on cold winter days. It really is delicious.
or clear silvery gelatinous gluten-looking material, served floating in a reddish brown sauce.
shoots and shiitake mushrooms. Sometimes there will be a vegetarian option.
One example calls for heating ketchup, vinegar, miso paste, soy sauce, and sugar together with cornstarch and water. I imagine that would taste approximately correct.
The pickled mustard greens are made by taking a head of green mustard and fermenting/pickling [lacto-fermenting] it in a similar manner to sauerkraut or kimchi. The result is a slightly tart and zesty green vegetable. The fermentation process, unfortunately, takes away some of the mustard’s vibrant green, and also makes it a bit limp. To counteract the poor visuals, and add a more lively mouth-feel, fresh cilantro is added. (The cilantro is usually chopped with the stems to maintain as much crispness as possible). It could hardly be called a Taiwanese dish without cilantro—it’s on almost everything. The final ingredient is the Taiwanese peanut powder. It is made of finely ground peanuts and finely ground rock sugar.
textures and colors. Plus, it is messy enough to eat, that it is guaranteed to keep the kids entertained. It is awesome.
Basically, the woman sits on the chair, placing her legs in the thoughtfully provided stirrups, so that she may… present, as they say in animal husbandry. At the business-end of the chair there is a pull-out foot stool for the man to kneel on, and a pair of long handles to aid in his exertions. The handles give the apparatus that gym equipment appearance. If used as a mobility aid the chair offers significant improvements to an elderly or disabled person’s quality of life, but, you know, it is used in much more creative ways by perfectly able-bodied people. [Caution: If there is a large weight differential, with the male being heavier, when he kneels on the pull-out foot stool—which is attached to the chair—the unit becomes a teeter-totter, with a fulcrum point between the stool and chair. In such a case, the female could easily be launched over your left shoulder, sent flying across the room, and land on the floor in an upset puddle of naked chick, hypothetically speaking,… or so I’ve heard somewhere].
Motel rooms get more elaborate from there. Plenty have bathtubs large enough to function as small lap pools, some rooms even have pools. Often there will be a room with an elaborate sound system and karaoke machine. These rooms function more as a party room than a den of iniquity. Some motels even have theme rooms. You know the type; a Hollywood themed room, a Hello Kitty room (because this is Asia), a pirate room, etc. Not all amenities are elaborate, sometimes it is the small touches that show they care. Many motels have a vending machine in the room selling various sex toys. If not, the room service menu will likely offer a dozen or two, in case you didn’t have a chance to stick a dildo in your purse
that morning. Virtually every motel provides a complimentary condom and free lube. That’s just plain classy.
. They just think they need to catch up. That’s natural. The grass is always pervier on the other side of the fence.