Bing Bao III - The Rechao

East Asia columnist Liam Elliott Brady explores how Taiwan has been shaped by its varied colonial past and unique geopolitical situation through food. Through continuous interaction with foreign powers, Taipei has developed a diverse culinary culture; this column aims to make sense of it, discussing the significance of one aspect of the Taipei food scene in each instalment.

Deep in the throes of Taiwan’s miserable tropical winter, as pelting rain clouds render the prospect of a safe motorcycle home unimaginable, there are few sights that bring me more childlike pleasure than the warm glow exuded by a rechao (hot stir-fry) eatery.

A typical rechao storefront featuring a classic circular table with its ‘Lazy Susan’ turntable, used for circulating food among guests (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

These restaurants’ iconic neon signs are scattered across the island, and guarantee passers-by evenings filled with hearty fast-food, cheap beer, and unfettered dining chaos. Outside the storefronts, stacks of tanks brimming with crabs, lobsters and oysters dutifully awaiting their oily doom are enough to make any like-minded vegetarian’s stomach wretch. Above, drab signage resembles the product of a slightly unproductive Year 8 ICT lesson more closely than the polished marketing of an upmarket Taipei establishment. This, however, is central to the rechao’s dingy charm. The cacophony of pans clashing, bottles smashing, and orders being bellowed out to the kitchen blends to create a hypnotising rhythm that draws hungry (and thirsty) punters from all strata of Taiwanese society towards its swinging doors. Excited by the rustic allure of the rechao, we walk in.

Upon entering, customers are invariably welcomed with haste and candour by overburdened waiting staff. Sprawling menus are crammed with classic dishes that exhibit the best qualities of rechao cuisine: numbingly hot tofu lathered in a rich umami sauce (mapo doufu), sizzling carp served swimming in a pungent chilli broth (shuizhuyu), and fragrant century eggs flash-fried in chilis, peppers, peanuts and garlic (gongbao pidan) constitute some of the mainstays of this fiery culinary culture.

Mapodoufu (Mapo tofu), a staple of Chinese and Taiwanese cuisine (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

Deep-fried dough-sticks (youtiao) are typically served as the centrepiece of the world-famous Taiwanese breakfast alongside warm sweetened soy milk, but are chopped up and thrust into thick chilli sauce in rechao kitchens. With a small group of friends, it is not uncommon to order upwards of ten large plates. Each dish is shared, enjoyed, and eaten to its last morsel, and each customer leaves satisfied.

However, between mouthfuls of piping-hot crispy tofu and generously seasoned shreds of beef, visitors have been known to find themselves working up a thirst. Fortunately, the rechao occupies a convenient middle ground between the bar and the restaurant. Drinking in excess is not only permitted, but actively encouraged; placed strategically beside the communal bucket of white rice, fridges are piled high with Taiwan Beer – a wonderfully light, crisp beverage and a source of tremendous national pride – while bottle openers are strung loosely to all tables. Naturally, this layout is conducive to a rowdy, jovial and quintessentially Taiwanese atmosphere. The air thick with spice and laughter, travellers perch on the stools in these folksy diners until the early hours.

A trip to the rechao is incomplete without a bottle - or more often a crate - of Taiwan Beer, often abbreviated to taipi by locals (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

A typical post-rechao scene of empty Taiwan Beer bottles and dishes piled high on one enormous table (Photo: Will Oliviero)

Adopted as a method to kill germs at a time of unprecedented population growth, the rechao cooking technique was popularised in 1950s Taiwan following a wave of migration from the mainland. Like most subsections of Taiwanese cuisine, rechao food mirrors the island’s complex history of colonial subjugation, most strikingly at the hands of Japan. Plates of thinly sliced raw fish - known universally as sashimi - are perhaps the most conspicuously Japanese dish to feature on rechao menus, while shrimp in a mayonnaise sauce is also said to have developed from a Japanese interpretation of a prawn cocktail. Besides this, the diversity of Han Chinese inhabitants from the mainland is also apparent in the dishes on offer: seafood items from Fujian (the region to which the vast majority of Taiwanese Han settlers trace their ancestry), such as starchy oyster omelette (o’a’chien), numbingly spicy plates like fish-fragrant aubergines (yuxiang qiezi) from Sichuan, and sticky barbecue chasiu pork from Guangdong have all established themselves as pillars of the rechao menu.

Rechaos marry fiery, flavoursome and substantial food with a lively, convivial atmosphere in a way which is simply unrivalled by any British fast-food joint that comes to mind. It therefore comes as little surprise that elements of rechao culture have permeated into the Western fast-food landscape in recent years; opened by American-Taiwanese chefs, Eric Sze and Andy Chuang in 2018, Taiwanese diner 886 has earnt its reputation as a New York fast-food heavyweight through serving classics such as sesame noodles (majiangmian), beef spring onion pancakes (niurou juanbing), and pig’s blood cake (zhuxiegao) in a relaxed setting. As the world slowly approaches a state post-covid normality, there are plenty of lessons to be learned about food and community spirit from the Taiwanese rechao.

In addition to local favourites, rechao menus also incorporate dishes from abroad, such as starchy oyster omelette from Fujian or fish fragrant aubergines (shown above) from Sichuan.