Fine Japanese dining is easy to find in Taipei, but Shanhua Cuisine Japonaise (山花) stands a cut above the rest. The restaurant, which sports a facade that looks as if it was plucked straight out of an alleyway in Kyoto, offers simplicity and elegance with a warm, homey touch.
The same might be said of the Japanese-style multi-course meals, or kaiseki, served by restaurateur Lin Kun-tian (林昆田). The 50-year-old Kaohsiung native and life-long chef says he takes a strictly traditionalist approach in preparing meals.
Lin says the key to his meals are fresh ingredients, some locally sourced, most imported from Japan. He stays away from fancy sauces and sticks to simple garnishes, whether it’s a light soy sauce or freshly grated wasabi.
Photo by David Chen
A lunchtime visit left me impressed with Lin’s penchant for the basics. I went for the set of eight “mini-courses” (NT$1,000), which was full of subtle surprises and delights.
The meal started with a cube of sesame tofu topped with a glutinous soy sauce to whet the appetite, and then a platter of sashimi served on a bed of ice in a ceramic cup with a floral design. The petit cucumber with a flower growing out of the end was both a tasty and beautiful garnish.
The tuna and yellowtail slices were as fresh as could be and of high quality, but it was the raw shrimp that bowled me over. The coldness made it sing, and there was a buttery flavor that Lin says comes from a light squeeze of fresh lemon, a flavor I hadn’t noticed. In any case, shrimp will never be the same for me again, at least until my next visit.
Photo by David Chen
The raw delights continued with a serving of calamari (also melt-in-your-mouth delicious), followed by a delicate cut of eel meat served in a light broth.
The next platter offered a bit of exotica: a slice of blowfish skin, which looked like and tasted a bit like jellied ham, and a tofu cube-sized block of monkfish liver, which I enjoyed for its savory, nutty flavor and buttery texture.
The main courses were grilled fish, which had firm but tender white meat similar to grouper, and a soul-satisfying bowl of steamed egg full of stringy mushrooms and chunks of yams. Just in case you aren’t full by this point, the “mini-course” meal ends with a bowl of rice with pickled vegetables and miso soup.
Photo by David Chen
The food and the interior are refined and minimalist, but the vibe is down-to-earth and welcoming. Billie Holliday played in the background as I sat at the solid wood bar in front of a stylish open-air kitchen, where Lin and his team of four chefs multi-tasked with ease. They sliced fish, grated wasabi root and manned the grill, all while engaging in friendly banter with customers, many of whom are middle-aged regulars and business-types.
There is no menu, as diners simply choose how much they want to pay: NT$1,000, NT$1,500 or NT$2,500 for lunch; NT$3,000, NT$4,000 or NT$5,000 for dinner. Higher prices get you more in quantity and quality of ingredients.
Shanhua, which is just a five-minute walk from Liuzhangli MRT Station (六張犁捷運站), is situated in the corner of an old concrete building in a nondescript neighborhood. The restaurant looks out of place with its clean, natural-hued exterior and sliding wooden doors, almost as if it were put there by mistake. Once inside, the food and the atmosphere will indeed transport you to another place.
On the final approach to Lanshan Workstation (嵐山工作站), logging trains crossed one last gully over a dramatic double bridge, taking the left line to enter the locomotive shed or the right line to continue straight through, heading deeper into the Central Mountains. Today, hikers have to scramble down a steep slope into this gully and pass underneath the rails, still hanging eerily in the air even after the bridge’s supports collapsed long ago. It is the final — but not the most dangerous — challenge of a tough two-day hike in. Back when logging was still underway, it was a quick,
From censoring “poisonous books” to banning “poisonous languages,” the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) tried hard to stamp out anything that might conflict with its agenda during its almost 40 years of martial law. To mark 228 Peace Memorial Day, which commemorates the anti-government uprising in 1947, which was violently suppressed, I visited two exhibitions detailing censorship in Taiwan: “Silenced Pages” (禁書時代) at the National 228 Memorial Museum and “Mandarin Monopoly?!” (請說國語) at the National Human Rights Museum. In both cases, the authorities framed their targets as “evils that would threaten social mores, national stability and their anti-communist cause, justifying their actions
In the run-up to World War II, Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, head of Abwehr, Nazi Germany’s military intelligence service, began to fear that Hitler would launch a war Germany could not win. Deeply disappointed by the sell-out of the Munich Agreement in 1938, Canaris conducted several clandestine operations that were aimed at getting the UK to wake up, invest in defense and actively support the nations Hitler planned to invade. For example, the “Dutch war scare” of January 1939 saw fake intelligence leaked to the British that suggested that Germany was planning to invade the Netherlands in February and acquire airfields
The launch of DeepSeek-R1 AI by Hangzhou-based High-Flyer and subsequent impact reveals a lot about the state of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) today, both good and bad. It touches on the state of Chinese technology, innovation, intellectual property theft, sanctions busting smuggling, propaganda, geopolitics and as with everything in China, the power politics of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). PLEASING XI JINPING DeepSeek’s creation is almost certainly no accident. In 2015 CCP Secretary General Xi Jinping (習近平) launched his Made in China 2025 program intended to move China away from low-end manufacturing into an innovative technological powerhouse, with Artificial Intelligence