It’s been almost six years since my visit to Taiwan, and I can still feel the dense air inflating my brown waves into a mess of frizzy flyaways. I can still hear the hum of people in line to order xiao long bao (soup dumplings) and turnip cakes while the cook—who is also the cashier—sizzles scallion pancakes and plopped warm soy milk into bowls for the lucky guests further ahead in line. The warm scents of cloves and cinnamon still dance with sharp peppercorns in my nose, aggressively interjected every so often by the sour sting of chòu dòufu (stinky tofu). Taipei seemed to have grown alongside lush gardens, each block as much a metropolitan as a greenhouse. I roamed the city with surprise and ease in equal measure.
Somehow, a 14-hour plane ride away from the place where I was born, where everything I was seeing and tasting and experiencing was new, I felt the warmth of home. People were kind and generous despite my pitiful attempts to greet them in Mandarin, but they also didn’t treat me like a helpless infant. My interactions were often in cafes and restaurants and they worked with me to achieve our common goal of exchanging pieces of ourselves. I, my enthusiasm and curiosity and hunger; they, their craft and expertise and home. Something about these exchanges felt supremely comfortable, despite the lack of language. There was a softness. An embrace of quiet among the usual chaos.
Wandering around felt no less relaxed. It seemed on every block there was a coffee shop waiting to open its arms and invite me in for the hug that is a brown sugar latte. Tea houses beckoned me with their quiet library of earthy oolongs. And the food…The food! Cafeteria trays filled with supple dan bing and juicy dumplings and crispy, light youtiao started our days like each was a celebration and cost only three U.S. dollars. Night markets lined the streets with chicken cutlets the size of human heads and charred sausages and mysterious balls—almost like the Danish pancake balls, aebleskiver—with tender octopus in them. A cart positioned on a quiet street near Christian’s apartment sold one thing only: brown sugar bread. We gathered two slices and these would be my first bites in Taiwan. The amber-colored slice comforted my weary tongue after airplane meals with flavors of the richest caramel. The texture was delightfully chewy and toothsome like I’d never encountered.
I could wax poetic about Taiwan and its food for a long time—I didn’t even get to the national dish, beef noodle soup yet!—but I’m here to share a recipe with you that was inspired by my second bite in Taiwan, and arguably my favorite: gua bao. Fluffy buns filled with fatty, braised pork and topped with pickled mustard greens, sugared peanuts, and cilantro. Every taste bud comes alive with sweet, sour, salty, savory as your mouth crunches and gnaws and melts each bite. It’s pure magic. I ate them several times throughout my stay, always from the same spot at Shi-da Market, Lan Jia. A lanky young man built each sandwich with a set of tongs that seemed to be an extension of his noodly arm. Swiftly and artfully, he piled the simmering ingredients into a bao, my eyes transfixed on his movements, my mouth moistening with anticipation.
I’ve scoured the internet for all of its gua bao recipes, had some failed attempts, and purchased every Taiwanese cookbook I could find (there are many, many excellent ones). I’m still looking for the perfect likeness to Lan Jia that I can make at home (and if you know/have a good recipe, please let me know!), but as I seared short ribs and stirred risotto for a dinner party several months ago, I had the idea to braise them with the flavors of gua bao. And what if I served it with rice? And made some of those sweet peanuts? And what if I pickled something myself? So I did. And it…was…good.
This recipe could be super chill if you want to just cook the meat and serve it with some steamed rice or noodles or in bao buns—it would be delicious this way. However! I encourage you to make these quick pickles (they’re quick! You can and should make them ahead of time!). If you don’t want to make the sugary peanuts, you could use store-bought honey-roasted and it would have the same sweet, textured effect. I also served roasted carrots with mine but that's just because I wanted a vegetable. They aren't essential.
My palate reminisced on humid walks through the windy streets of Taipei as Christian and I devoured this dish. It’s not Lan Jia. It’s my Midwesterner love letter to a place that I visited for only a few short weeks, but that made sure I would miss it. If you have questions about the recipe, please reach out. I’d love to hear from you! Love to you, always <3
*MISS YOU TAIWAN* SHORT RIBS with pickled cukes & sugary peanuts
Serves 6ish
SHORT RIBS
5 pounds bone-in short ribs
1 onion, minced
6 garlic cloves, minced
2 tablespoons fresh grated ginger (or ½ teaspoon ground)
1 tablespoon five spice powder
2 teaspoons fennel seed
2 teaspoons coriander seed
½ teaspoon cinnamon
½ cup Shaoxing wine
⅓ cup soy paste
½ cup soy sauce
2 tablespoons brown sugar
½ cup rice vinegar
3 cups water/broth/water+bouillon
6 whole scallions
Steamed Rice (for serving)
Pickled cukes & Sugary peanuts (for garnish, recipes below)
Cilantro (for garnish)
Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.
Before you begin, did you make your pickled cucumbers? How about your peanuts? If you haven't but you intended to serve this all together, go do that now. The recipes are below.
Now, line up your short ribs on a sheet pan and season them liberally with salt and pepper. If you have time and think to do this a day ahead and keep them uncovered in the fridge, amazing! If you don't (I didn’t) they will be just fine seasoned just before you cook them.
In a dutch oven or otherwise heavy-bottomed pot (one that will eventually go in the oven) sear the short ribs on high heat in a little vegetable oil. You want the ribs to have space to breathe, or else they will start to almost steam, so you will likely have to do this in 2 or 3 batches. You want a deep, chocolate brown on all sides. If your meat starts to blacken like mine does in the second round of searing, just reduce the heat a little. Use the same sheet pan you seasoned them on to line up your browned ribs (I promise this is food safe, these ribs are about to be cooked for three hours).
Reduce the heat to medium-low and add the onion. These will brown pretty immediately because you just cooked a bunch of meat in this pan, but you still want to mellow and soften the onions, so saute these for at least five minutes, but ten would be better. Add the garlic, ginger, five spice, fennel, coriander, and cinnamon and toast for another two minutes.
Add Shaoxing wine to deglaze the pan and reduce by half. Turn the heat up now to medium-high. Add the rest of the ingredients and bring the mixture up to a boil then turn the heat off. Add the ribs back to the pot, cover with a lid, and cook in the oven for 2 ½ - 3 ½ hours.
Cooking time depends on how big your short ribs are, so start checking the tenderness at 2 ½ hours. They should fall apart when grabbed at with a fork. You’re not going to overcook these—the worst effect of cooking is that the meat won’t stay attached to the bone at all, so you won’t have as dramatic and beautiful plating opportunities. What I’m saying is that if you’re unsure whether or not they’re done, better to leave them a little longer.
Once tender, remove from the oven and crank the temperature to 425 degrees. Now is a good time to cook your rice.
This next bit is a move I borrow from Alison Roman. Remove the lid from your short ribs and cook them for 20-30 minutes longer or until the sauce has thickened and reduced around the meat so that some meat is no longer as submerged and has gotten a little crispy on top. The photos below display the before & after this extra cooking and hopefully sell you on why it is worth it.
PICKLED CUKES
Makes more than you need. Put them on a sandwich!
1 English cucumber or 4 of the small ones, sliced thinly
1 shallot, sliced thinly
3/4 cup rice vinegar
3/4 cup water
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon coriander seed
1 tablespoon black peppercorns
1 teaspoon fennel seed
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
Put your cucumbers and shallots in a quart-sized container with a lid. Set aside.
In a small saucepan, bring the vinegar, water, sugar, and all of the spices to a boil over medium-high heat. Once boiling, turn off the heat and pour it over the cukes and shallots. Let some of the steam come off the mixture (for maybe fifteen minutes) before you cover and chill these in the fridge for at least 4 hours (overnight is even better).
These will last a couple of weeks in the fridge.
SUGARY PEANUTS
Makes more than you need. Use them on oatmeal? In a cookie?
1 cup unsalted peanuts
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup water
Maldon salt or other flaky salt, to finish
Set up a baking sheet with parchment paper or a Silpat, if you have one (I don't).
In a small saucepan, combine the peanuts, sugar, and water over medium heat. Once this comes to a boil, use a heatproof spatula or spoon to stir constantly. It'll take 5-10 minutes for this mixture to thicken, and then turn into a sort of sandy mess over the peanuts.
Turn the heat off at this sandy stage, toss with a generous pinch of salt (probably 1/4 teaspoon if you prefer to measure) and then pour out onto the prepared pan. Cool completely and chop to use for your short ribs.
These last...I dunno, forever? I mean not literally, but they're a great snack so they shouldn't take you long to go through.
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