Old and dry with a sleeper of water in follow. Without the unspeakable, this medalic red has an over-suggestion of forgotten earthiness. It’s finish isn’t too strong in the chest, but it feels frail and precious. The nose hits well before the tongue, the dry, fragile silk shimmers down, and all that’s left is a paper-thin memory of what we wanted to last forever. Taken with fried Taiwanese leak flatbread roll.
Rudy and richly royal with one thought and a half of zinfandel. Not as cherry as her friends; she’s from the lane laced with cranberry for the bees. Oakily moist, leaving a dry tongue with wet cheeks. Yet, not to be found is evidence of tannin. Taken with spicy, Aussie beef prepped medium after a bath in Tabasco soy. Still, the almost Cajun beef cries up from the bowels for evermore to help digest.
The best of medicine delish! Oaky on the tongue front, richly wet at the mouth back. Not so tannic as it is an oasis that comes with its own desert for dessert. Happy as cherries, tasteful and concentrated in flavor. This has all the things we secretly love about cough syrup, but don’t tell on the bottle.
Taken with medium steak, brie, and omelette a la kimchi. Who thought wine suited a late night breakfast. But, the brie—together with this red in your maw and you’ll forget which is which. Even if you could remember, you’d never never want to.
The Taiwanese eclectic restaurant chain, Tasty, won’t leave you wishing for the West. When asked, they don’t even have chopsticks on request. This six-course meal, plus the drink as the chaser, comes from only a few selected entrees . But, they don’t need many.
We begin our night with shrimp a la asparagus. That is no hollandaise sauce; it’s more likely yellow mustard and mayo with a dash of… something else. Most of the most delicious food is often the most simple.
Quickly follows the salad, topped with dried fruit and bacon, served with a delectable cup of Caesar. Far be it for the Taiwanese to know that iceberg is tacky without having to be told. But, at least half of the lettuce is Romaine.
Before you finish, the potato gratin arrives in its flat plate for baking. It’s not too much, but just enough to make you want more before what arrives next.
The cream of corn is mostly potato, but the corn finds its way to the bottom. Again, just enough to be filling on the way to something greater.
The steak plate is largely empty, decorated with a dazzling comet of mustard and served with a side of veggies, including a Taiwanese caramelized sweet potato—something the Taiwanese can’t resist.
The cut is lean. And, while the slab of beef could be larger, it doesn’t need to be. Then again, you always wish it never ended.
The panna cotta doesn’t celebrate the fruit as we usually expect. This tips its hat to the berries and something green that once grew. But, the best part of this panna cotta is the cotta itself.
The drink didn’t come until last, as the honorary seventh course to chase whatever thoughts remained, pining for more of the most Tasty night out in Taiwan.
Royally bold in a deep confidence, it doesn’t pose. Nothing pungent about it nor any need for attention. Light as feathers, but an impression of weight so grand it begs question of legend and origin. Medium tannin and unusually filling, though it needs a steak cheese melt, and don’t hold the mustard.