One of the first things I noticed when I got to Taiwan was that I am indeed a picky eater. People have been saying this about me off and on for years, but I honestly couldn't think of any vegan food I wouldn't eat, besides kale and cornbread, which I have since learned to like. (Yes, I realize that being vegan makes me picky. It torments me nearly every day as a guest in a foreign country.) However, when I started eating most of my meals with Willy (backstory: we started dating in January of 2004, despite the fact that we are near polar opposites), it became clear that I do have preferences. For example, I would rather eat fresh, healthy food than dishes drenched in oil or beverages that are half sugar. I tend not to enjoy food that's so spicy it hurts. And perhaps most notably, my body simply does not want to ingest anything gelatinous. After a couple minutes, the gag reflex kicks in, and that's the end of that. However, under duress, I can sample a gelatinous food or eat a whole greasy meal, no sweat.
When I arrived in Taiwan, it was almost time for the Dragon Boat Festival, the Cinco de Mayo of the lunar year in China. Though I'm not exactly clear on what this holiday is all about, the main focus seems to be zongzi. I was told that zongzi were rice and other fillings wrapped in bamboo leaves and tied with string. You don't eat the string or the leaves--duh. The first day I was here, Willy's kindly parents found a booth at a night market that sold zongzi with vegetarian meat inside (lots of this in Taiwan, mostly for Buddhists) and we brought some home for breakfast the next day.
Now, for my first meal in Taiwan, I vaguely recall eating youtiao, which translates to "oil strips"--greasy crullers wrapped in a greasy pancake. De-lish. And at a price of half a dollar, who can complain? My first impression of Taiwan: good, cheap breakfast, and dogs everywhere. (But more about that later.) So the next day, when Willy and I sat down at the breakfast table, chopsticks and sweet chili sauce at the ready, with the intention of eating as many zongzi as we possibly could, I was not fully prepared for what came next.
You know those TV shows where someone gets an injury or has facial surgery and the producers make the unwrapping of the bandages as dramatic as possible? The unveiling of the disfigured supervillain? That is how I picture this moment--I carefully remove the string and unwrap layer after of layer of bamboo leaves, when, suddenly, I exclaim:
Me: What is this stuff?
Willy: Rice. What?
Me (poking the green blob): It's gelatinous. Why is it gelatinous?
Willy: I don't know.
Me: Why is it green? Please tell me it's from the bamboo leaves.
Willy (helpful as always): I don't know.
Always a trooper, and not wanting to appear rude, I sampled this holiday treat. To be fair, it did taste almost exactly like rice. Rice with a hint of bamboo leaves, in fact. And the back of my throat allowed me to eat nearly two thirds of the lump. Impressive! Must've been the jetlag.
I think I'm gonna like this place. That is, if I don't die of heat exhaustion.