Drying cabbage plants draped over riverside railings and orange pylon
stantions. Plate-size cabbage leaves cover a section of sidewalk to dehydrate; mini
limp green quilts are drying after a spring cleaning. Scooters whiz by. City
trees add their own leaves.
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drying by the river
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hanging over pylon stantions
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watching the scooters fly by
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What is this, and what are they making? First, the mindset and
spirit.
The Taiwanese take the initiative. People make or create
something in any space and with what’s available. The floppy leaves could represent
a personal or commercial venture. Equally important, no one interferes - other
people or city officials. The entrepreneurial spirit is alive and well. These drying
cabbage plants and leaves typify the character that helped transform Taiwan.
***
What’s going on here?
Farmers and gardeners are making food - Lucky Vegetable (Fu
Cai), to be exact. Lucky because the preserved cabbage can be kept and used for
months. Fu Cai is a Taiwanese Hakka dish used throughout Taiwan. The Hakka are
a Han Chinese subgroup and one of many integrated into modern Taiwanese society.
***
I’ve written before about grandmas, grandpas or anyone borrowing
a tiny parcel of public land to create a garden. City bureaucrats turn a common
sense blind eye to official regulations. No city official comes to ticket or
destroy someone’s gumption. Free-range
cabbage-capitalism? Government hands-off vegetable democracy?
To a certain degree, you can do what you want in Taiwan as long
as you don’t harm anything or anyone. And how can an industrious little garden
or food preparation enterprise disturb anything? It’s something I admire about
Taiwan - an individual’s ability to undertake something with independence and
not drown in bureaucracy.
***
Vegetable politics aside, here are the nitty-gritty cabbage details.
The cabbage is harvested, washed, and the drying process begins.
There are a few preparation methods. Different Taiwanese foods use specific cabbage
parts. Chopped cabbage stalks and leaves
are used in beef noodle soups and braised pork dishes, while the dried crumbly
leaf edges become a topping for rice congee.
Plants are washed and then layered in containers with salt for
several days. The salt draws water out and shrivels the plants. The most common
method involves a straight-up salt soak and drying.
One procedure uses salt and seasonings for seven days. This
method and its added ingredients and drying times change the flavour. After
soaking, these plants are rinsed and hung in the sun. Weather conditions and personal preference
dictate how long the cabbages blow in the breeze. The shrinking leaves are collected,
rinsed, and returned to sunbathing spots.
Cabbage leaves for home and retail use are stored and sold in two
ways: first, some plants marinate in brine and are stored at home in containers
or sold in markets from large bins. Other plants are dried and folded tightly
together, like rolls of laundered socks. The dried bundles need soaking
and rinsing before cooking to remove the salt.
***
I’m at my local beef noodle soup restaurant for dinner heaping cured cabbage into my bowl. I get to enjoy the fruits of someone’s
unfettered industry. The plant is
crunchy with a tangy taste and a hint of salt. It’s the perfect condiment for
noodles and thick beef slices.
Munching away, I ponder the cabbage’s origin. Is it from the
canal railing or the pylon drying rack? I hope the street tree leaves were removed
if this cabbage leaf dried on the sidewalk. But that thought doesn’t slow me
down.
Mostly, I tuck in and enjoy, thankful for laissez-faire government
involvement in what the average Taiwanese can do with their cabbages.
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cabbage with my beef noodles - delicious!
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