A good time to be in Taiwan

Taiwan is a food-lover’s paradise, and in late May two of its greatest seasonal specialties make their appearance, shu mei (berries) and Yu-he-bao lychees.   

Shu mei are the lesser known of the two. The name means literally tree-berry, officially Myrica rubra. Since I am in Taiwan I will call them Shu-mei  (樹梅 ), their local name; in China they are known as yang-mei (杨梅). There is also a host of English names, among them red bayberry. (They are related to the waxy bayberries that grow in the Eastern U.S., the ones made into candles. although the edible ones are juicy, not waxy.)

One of the most welcome sights in Taiwan—a bowl of shu-mei. (Click on photos to enlarge.)

The extremely beautiful berries are bright red in color, darkening to purple as they ripen. They are sweet yet very tart, and have one of the best fruit flavors I have ever experienced. The season only lasts a week or so, and shu-mei are often not seen in regular stores. This year I located my supply from a street vendor in the Shi-lin night market.

The jewel-like shu-mei as displayed by their vendor.

Shu-mei are one of the most delicate of fruits, so they should be consumed immediately, admittedly not a very difficult task.  Within a day or two they will turn to vinegar, even in the refrigerator.

They are best simply eaten out of hand. They have a stone in the middle, kind of like a cherry, and the fruit is composed of juicy cells that radiate from the seed to the outside of the fruit. The darker berries are sweeter and less acid, yet the sprightliness of the shu-mei comes from their tartness, so if you insist on very ripe ones, the flavor won’t be as exciting.  

I attempted to cut one berry open to reveal the internal structure.

I did try to get the juice out of a few and make a sort of shumei-ade. It was a beautiful pink-red color, and very delicious, but these berries are so precious that unless I had my own tree, I would prefer to eat them fresh.

The evergreen trees are very handsome with their long leaves, and even more ornamental when bearing  their bright fruit. They grow in a number of warm places, and I am sure that they would do well in Florida.

I wish I were in a position to grow a few of these shu-mei trees.  Source: http://034733543-2.tw.tranews.com/

Shu-mei are surpassingly beautiful berries. Yu-he-bao lychees, on the other hand, do not have such a prepossessing appearance. Regular lychees, as you may know, are bright red with a scaly outer shell, juicy white flesh, and a large seed that often takes up half the fruit. Yu he bao are green with a reddish tinge; even when ripe, they never turn completely red, and the shell is prickly rather than scaly.

Everyone in Taiwan knows what a treat is waiting in these plain-looking fruits.

They are larger than most other lychees, and amazingly, when you open them, the seeds are very tiny, giving you a generous quantity of  extra-juicy flesh. Most people also believe that Yu he bao have the best flavor-- they are very sweet, with a tiny sub-acid addition that underlines the taste and gives it complexity.  The season is much longer than for shu-mei. As a rule, the first lychee to appear in May are the Yu-he-bao, and their season can last over a month.

The Yu-he-bao lychees cut open show their plentiful meat and small seeds.

These fruits are a perfect example of something better enjoyed in its native habitat. I can’t imagine that shu-mei could travel at all, and while I have eaten lychees in America, they were only a shadow of their luscious perfection in Taiwan, consumed within hours of their picking. In the same vein, the crisp tartness of good fall apples, or the honeyed sweetness of fruits like mayapples, will have to remain a closed book to those who live in warm climates.

Taiwan has many types of exceptional produce and a plethora of regional dishes, but when shu-mei or Yu-he-bao are available, other specialties are forgotten, and my life suddenly centers around them. They are such a treat that my top priority becomes getting as many as I possibly can.

A fresh package of shu mei, about to disappear.

(All photos by the author, except where noted.)

A Book Lover’s Open Sesame

About half of my recent haul

 

 

 

I just received a shipment of five hundred books from America to Taiwan. This is an exciting event, giving that child-in-the-candy-store feeling that I want to read this one first, no this one, no this one.

A. Edward Newton wrote about the difficulties of sneaking new books into the home, past his suspicious wife. A favorite trick was to add them to the stack on his nightstand, as though he had just taken them from the shelves, and then later redistribute them.

Usually one just acquires a few books at a time, or perhaps an arm- or box-load, but an influx on this scale changes all the rules. This many books required the purchase of new bookshelves, in turn necessitating the rearrangement of my entire apartment.

If you mix new with existing books, the new ones tend to disappear into the background, and you lose the monolithic quality of your new acquisition. On the other hand, sequestering the new books requires a double organization system, and as you read them you constantly have to reorganize the shelves.

For some reason I always mix up these titles. And yes, those are the Shaker Heights, Ohio Shakers.

 

A few titles caught my eye as I was unpacking them. Court Satires of the Restoration sounds right up my alley, and will go nicely with the Complete Works of William Congreve and of Thomas Shadwell. I have never read a novel by John Masefield, so I am looking forward to his Jim Davis.

To me, the great humorists (let me know whom I have forgotten) are Benchley, Nash, Wodehouse, Perelman and Patrick McManus. The latter is my perhaps my favorite living writer; I dote on his essays, and now I can try out his regular novel, The Double Jack Murders.

Two interesting titles for an oboist and a Clevelander

 

 

Since I bought most of these sight-unseen, a couple turned out to be other than I thought. I am a sucker for any books on pomology or fruit-growing, and I thought that Apples I have Eaten would be filled with Bunyard-like commentary. What I received was a small volume of unaccompanied photos, only the miniscule introduction assuring us, “They were really tasty.”

Winifred Carter’s Dr. Johnson’s ‘Dear Mistress’ turned out to be a historical novel set in the Eighteenth century. Unfortunately, Carter’s style owes more to Elinor Glyn than it does to Dr. Johnson. Here is a sample of her immortal prose:

            Mrs. Salusbury’s voice was almost shrill and her old eyes flashed fire. “I know you want it to squander on the trollop from Drury Lane. Neither shall you have any more of my fine things for such a purpose.”

            John Salusbury frowned impatiently. “Really, Mama, I don’t lie. If I wanted money for the divine Kitty Clive I should say so.”

The whole Johnsonian crowd is here—Boswell, Garrick, Reynolds. She must have done her homework, because not only is Mrs. Thrale present, but Mr. Thrale also. Oh, well.

 

A pleasant surprise was Art Buchwald’s I’ll Always Have Paris. I was expecting just a light read, but the jacket avers these are memoirs of “the dazzling Paris of the late 1940’s and the 1950’s.” I have often read about the mythic Paris of the 1920’s, and so am looking forward to extending my Parisian timetable.

Five hundred is a lot of books, but they will have to suffice for a while. Although I have been accumulating these for two years, and worked hard to ship them, I am now experiencing that delightful Ali Baba moment of wonderful treasures suddenly revealed.