AT THE CHINESE TABLE

A food writer and cookbook author recounts her love story with Taipei and Chinese cooking and with her husband and his family.

In a smooth mixture of memoir, family biography, cookbook, travelogue, and travel writing, Phillips ably conveys her knowledge of Chinese cuisine even though she is not Chinese. She is a White American from Hawaii who moved to Taiwan in 1976 to explore and learn Mandarin “by some sort of magical osmosis.” Phillips ran into the obstacles one might expect—cultural differences, loneliness, language barriers—but she endeavored to overcome these challenges by accessing the complex culture through its delicious food. Along the way, she fell in love with a Taiwanese man, J.H., who is now her husband. The narrative is most enjoyable when the author narrates her memorable experiences with meals both decadent and delicate, painting vivid pictures of enticing aromas and flavors. Describing one deceptively simple dish, she writes, “the egg white melted on my tongue into a puddle of perfectly seasoned chicken stock, ginger, and wine. Intrigued, I pinched off a side of the egg, eager to find and taste the yolk. There was none. The whole thing was a fusion of albumen and savoriness, a ridiculous yet tasty poke in the eye.” However, the author’s detailed retelling of J.H.’s family history sometimes feels out of place, as do the often dry, lengthy historical tangents. Recipes appear throughout, often tied to engaging stories of the author’s life with J.H. as a young couple in Taipei, falling in love and making food for friends and family. Helpfully, Phillips often includes substitutes for ingredients difficult to find in the U.S. and tips for achieving the most authentic results, recounting which shop owners, cooks, or friends passed the tips along to her. It may take an extra trip to the store, but the recipes are worth the effort. The line drawings are pleasant if unexceptional.

A uniquely presented story of love and food that reaches across genres and generations.