Taste All of Taipei —
25 Dishes You'll Miss When You Get Home

If Taiwan had to pick one dish to represent it, most locals would name beef noodle soup — a deep mahogany broth simmered from beef bones, soy sauce, Chinese spices and spicy doubanjiang bean paste. Shin of beef is braised until it falls apart, the noodles are springy and chewy, and a scatter of scallion and pickled mustard greens cuts the richness. Taipei even holds an annual beef noodle festival to crown the city's best bowl.

The dumpling that made Taipei famous worldwide — a thin, 18-pleat skin wrapping minced pork and a nugget of gelatin that melts into scalding soup as it steams. Lift one onto a spoon, nip the skin, let the broth pour out, dip in shredded ginger and black vinegar, then eat the whole thing. The legendary Din Tai Fung was born in Taipei and holds a Michelin star — but humble neighbourhood shops are every bit as good for less.

The cheap, comforting plate Taiwanese people eat more than any other — steamed rice crowned with finely chopped fatty pork braised in soy sauce, sugar and spices until it becomes a glossy, intense sauce. The pork melts on the tongue and the sauce soaks into every grain; some shops add a sprinkle of fried shallots. Pair it with a braised egg and blanched greens for a full meal. It's the dish that tells you instantly whether a kitchen knows what it's doing.

One of the great classics of the Taiwanese kitchen, named for its original recipe — one cup of sesame oil, one of rice wine, one of soy sauce — stir-fried with chicken and a generous handful of Taiwanese basil in a sizzling clay pot until the sauce reduces to a glossy glaze. The aroma of toasted sesame oil and basil fills the whole table. Rich with a faint sweetness, it's the kind of dish that has you asking for a second bowl of rice.

The snack that became a symbol of the Taipei night market — a chicken breast pounded thin and wide, bigger than your hand, battered and fried until the crust puffs up crackly, then dusted with a chilli-plum-white-pepper seasoning. The inside stays juicy; each bite shatters audibly. The world-famous Hot-Star chain started at a market here. Eat it hot off the fryer as you wander — it's a snack substantial enough to count as a meal.

A small, thick, glossy bowl that serious eaters seek out — fine brown mee sua noodles simmered in a starch-thickened broth seasoned with oyster essence, studded with tiny starch-coated oysters (some shops use braised pork intestine instead). It's served piping hot in a paper cup, topped with minced garlic, coriander and chilli sauce. Easy to slurp, easy to swallow, warming to the core. The famous Ay-Chung shop near Ximending draws a queue all day long.

A fixture at every night market — egg bound with tapioca starch into its signature chewy, gooey texture, packed with small fresh oysters and Taiwanese greens, fried on a flat iron griddle until the edges crisp. It's finished with a sweet-and-faintly-spicy orange sauce blended from sweet soy and chilli sauce. The slippery, springy texture surprises first-timers, but it quickly wins them over — and it's the dish that shows whether a cook can master the heat.

Taiwan is hot-pot obsessed — it has more hot-pot restaurants per head than anywhere on earth, from personal single-pot setups where everyone gets their own simmering bowl to fiery Sichuan-style mala broths. A local favourite is suan cai bai rou guo, hot pot with pickled cabbage and pork belly, its gently sour broth cutting through the richness. On a cold night, you'll see queues stretching down the street. It's the perfect choice when you're travelling as a group.

A dish born in the southern city of Chiayi but easy to find in Taipei — steamed rice topped with shredded turkey, drizzled with turkey-fat oil and a lightly salty gravy that soaks into the rice. Some shops finish it with pickled radish or fried shallots. The turkey is tender and moist, the flavour simple but quietly addictive. It's about the cheapest rice plate going and good any time of day — a fine choice for breakfast or a quick hunger fix.

Not a single dish but a wonderfully fun way to eat — grab a basket and pick your own from the racks: noodles, fish balls, tofu, eggs, leafy greens, mushrooms, even offal and chicken wings. Hand it over and the cook braises it in hot herbal soy broth, then tosses it with sauce and scallion. There's a hot version (re lu) and a cold one (liang lu). Tasty, cheap and entirely customisable — it's the legendary late-night meal of Taiwan.

Taiwan's gift to the world — invented in the city of Taichung in the 1980s. Black or oolong tea blended with fresh milk, plus tapioca pearls cooked in brown sugar that are chewy, sweet and fragrant, sipped through a fat straw with sweetness and ice dialled to taste. The legendary Chun Shui Tang claims to have created it, and several global chains were founded right here in Taipei — drink it at the source and it tastes like nowhere else.

Taiwan's legendary heat-beating dessert — finely shaved ice as soft as snow (the best shops shave it from frozen milk, making it even more tender), heaped with juicy ripe mango in big cubes, drizzled with condensed milk and crowned with a scoop of mango ice cream. Mango season, roughly May to August, is when it's at its absolute peak. A plate is big enough to share between two or three — the trip's closing dessert that everyone photographs first.

Silky-soft tofu pudding scooped with a spoon like a custard, floating in warm ginger syrup or cold iced syrup. Pick from a spread of toppings — mung beans, red beans, pearl barley, small glutinous rice balls, mashed taro or tapioca pearls. Eat it hot in winter, iced in summer. It's a light dessert, never too sweet, that suits every age. Several long-running douhua shops in Taipei have been at it for decades.

Chewy glutinous-rice balls simmered in hot ginger syrup — the small unfilled ones go alongside other desserts, while the larger ones hold a filling of ground black sesame or crushed peanut that flows out warm and fragrant when you bite in. Sweet, nutty and rich, tang yuan is an auspicious sweet for the Winter Solstice and Lantern Festival, symbolising family togetherness — but you'll find it year-round in dessert shops, and some night markets serve it over shaved ice.

The signature dessert of Jiufen village, but easy to find across Taipei — chewy balls made from mashed taro and sweet potato bound with starch, kneaded, cut into small pieces and boiled until springy, with a texture like a lighter mochi. They're served in a clear syrup with red beans, mung beans and pearl barley, eaten hot or cold over shaved ice. The soft natural purple and yellow look as good as they taste, with a sweetness that's gentle, never cloying.

Taiwan's number-one souvenir sweet, made to be carried home — a crumbly, buttery shortbread shell melting in the mouth around a thick jam of slow-cooked pineapple, tart-sweet to cut the richness. The traditional version blends pineapple with winter melon; the "tu feng li" version uses 100% true Taiwanese pineapple for a sharper tang. Taipei has several legendary makers — SunnyHills, Chia Te and Kuo Yuan Ye — all sold in handsome gift boxes, easy to buy on the way to the airport.

A legendary pastry born in Taichung but found all over Taipei — dozens of wafer-thin flaky pastry layers that peel apart in sheets, wrapped around a filling of malt syrup that's soft, fragrant and sweet. Bite in and the pastry showers flakes across your plate; the filling inside is gently sweet, never sickly. It's best with a cup of hot tea, a classic gift-box sweet alongside pineapple cake, sold in pretty boxes at heritage bakeries and at the airport.