Taiwan

"Boba, Bao and Night Markets"

Taiwan, oh Taiwan. The unsung hero of my tastebud memoirs. A place where street food is religion, scooters whiz past like spicy little angels of chaos, and every night feels like a food festival you accidentally got VIP passes to. You don’t just visit Taiwan — you show up hungry, get a little sweaty, fall in love with a dumpling, and leave a changed person.

Let’s start where all beautiful things begin: the night markets. These glorious wonderlands of sizzling grills, neon lights, and mouthwatering chaos are where I truly felt alive. Picture this: I’m wandering through Shilin Night Market, steam rising, garlic wafting, people chatting in the background, and in my hand? A crispy, pillowy-soft Gua Bao — aka the Taiwanese hamburger. Think slow-braised pork (or mushrooms), pickled mustard greens, crushed peanuts, cilantro, and a cloud-like bun that tastes like a warm hug from the universe. I still dream about it.

And right as I’m finishing that, I turn around and BAM — scallion pancake stand. Hot off the griddle, flaky and golden, with egg and cheese folded in. I was full. I still ate it. Because Taiwan doesn’t care about your diet — it came to feed your soul.

And then it happened.

✨The moment I tasted real-deal Taiwanese boba tea.✨

You think you know bubble tea. You’ve had it at home. You’re confident. Then you go to Taiwan and realize… oh. Oh no. I’ve been drinking frauds. The boba pearls here are warm, chewy but soft, made fresh daily. The milk tea is rich, perfectly sweetened (pro tip: always ask for half sugar if you're not about that sugar rush life), and it comes in a cup that feels right. I had brown sugar boba that nearly brought me to tears. Matcha boba that made me rethink matcha. Taro boba that made me wanna write poetry.

I had boba every day in Taiwan. Some days twice. Some days three times. I’m not ashamed. I was hydrated, caffeinated, and living my best milk tea life.

And let’s not forget the dumplings. Juicy xiao long bao (soup dumplings) that burst in your mouth like tiny bombs of joy. Steamed buns filled with sweet red bean or savory vegetables. Grilled skewers, oyster omelets, fried chicken that’s as big as your face, and fruit that tasted like it had been blessed by nature itself (I see you, wax apples and mangoes).

Even vegetarian buffets here were a spiritual experience — row after row of dishes made with care and flavor so deep, I had to double-check they didn’t sneak in grandma’s love potion.

Taiwan made me feel alive. Full. Slightly sticky. Endlessly happy.

You eat standing up. You eat walking. You sit on plastic stools, lean against carts, and eat something mysterious just because someone’s grandma is handing it to you with a smile. Taiwan taught me to be bold, to try it all, and to always, always leave room for boba.

So tell me — if I handed you a boba and led you through a Taiwanese night market right now, what would be your first bite? Drop it below and let’s foodie-dream together! 🇹🇼🧋🥟👇