Stinky Tofu

I tried stinky tofu today! Actually, Rachel, Karina and I all tried it, and by 'it' in this case I mean we each had a tiny little piece about the size of a fingernail.

It was an interesting experience, but one that I knew was going to have to happen at some point this year. You see, stinky tofu (臭 豆腐) is a signature dish around here. Because, you know, what could be more appetizing than a dish for which, according to Wikipedia,  "The traditional method for producing stinky tofu is to prepare a brine made from fermented milk, vegetables, and meat; the brine can also include dried shrimp, amaranth greens, mustard greens, bamboo shoots, and Chinese herbs," which is then fermented with the tofu. Apparently, the shrimp variation is particularly popular around here.

First Google hit for "stinky tofu." Love it.

In any case, stinky tofu has been on my to-do list to eat since I got here. Every time I walked past a stand, though (and believe me, you can't avoid them here), the in-your-face-terrible smell would come wafting out and I would think "eh, maybe next time."

So what, you may ask, prompted me to go for it today?

Hard to say. Rachel, Karina, Brittany and I were at Rachel's host family's house for dinner, and they were asking if we'd tried it, or wanted to try it. Rachel said she might. I said I would if she would. So...we did.

And here's what I learned: eating it is fine. The chewing, you can hardly taste a thing, and it's by no means horrible. Then you swallow, and it's still okay. Give it a few seconds. And then...you realize that the smell, not the taste, has become lodged in your mouth. So, rather than having the actual, innocuous taste stuck in your mouth, you're stuck with the taste of the horrific smell, and it won't go away. Trust me, I tried: grape juice, then broth, then Asian pears. The only cure I found was concentrated sugar, which eventually came my way via the mango creamsicle they gave us for dessert and, later, the Hi-Chews I had at home. Still, it's a recurring kind of smell...

In other news, we ended up being at Rachel's host family's house for almost 5 hours, which was fun--their house reminded me, somehow, of Seattle (maybe because they have 3 kids so I felt like I should be nannying?). Our visit turned into an impromptu hours-long Chinese-and-Taiwanese lesson in which Brittany featured prominently, and which I lost entirely somewhere around hour 4. But I can now remember the tones on pineapple (鳳梨; 4th-2nd), and I learned the word for curious (好奇).

At one point the dad's dad came in (this was the beginning of the switch to Taiwanese), and he reminded me a lot of my own grandpa, which was great. There was also a strong family resemblance between him, his son, his daughter (who came to visit partway through), and his grandkids; being so far from my own family, it was great to see a complete and obvious family.

So it was a good evening, complete with memories of old experiences and the making of the new--memories which, like 臭豆腐, will stick around for a while.