Jingliao Taro Kuaiqiao in Tainan, Grandma's Handmade Rustic Goodness

Among the many traditional snacks, "taro kuaiqiao" is the taste of childhood in many people's memories. Although it can still occasionally be seen in traditional markets in the city, the ones bought from the market always seem to be missing a certain flavor. Which flavor is missing? Thinking about it, it is probably Grandma's flavor.

Originally I was just going to Jingliao to visit Grandma Axue. Two days earlier, a call came through saying the grandmas were going to make taro kuaiqiao together, and as someone who loves rice-based foods the most, I decided to set off early. That day, as soon as I arrived at the home of the "mama zhang" (the head of the mothers' class, shortened in the countryside to "mama zhang") and had just parked the car, hearty laughter came from not far away. A group of grandma-level ladies were busily working with their hands and feet, and many taro kuaiqiao were already laid out on the table waiting to be steamed.

 

In the early days in the countryside, when a large family lived together, the men went out to farm early in the morning, and most of the work in the kitchen was shouldered by the mother leading the daughters-in-law and daughters to handle the family's chores, big and small. When traditional festivals came, this traditional good taste was naturally passed down. But now, with young and middle-aged rural residents moving away, the grandmas have fewer hands. So the members of the mothers' class took on the role of looking after and supporting one another. With great unspoken coordination, they split up to knead glutinous rice dough, weigh and shape it, heat the pot, and steam it. When one grandma's hands got sore from kneading, another took over. If someone needed help, they called out, and someone quickly stepped in automatically. It was orderly amid the bustle, and their hands moved very quickly.

In the countryside, taro kuaiqiao varies somewhat from place to place in flavor, appearance, and filling. I grew up in Taichung, and taro kuaiqiao in central Taiwan is usually round with a slight oval shape. Here in Jingliao, the shape is a bit like a crescent moon, but I think it looks even more like a jiaobei (divination block). Grandma said the traditional shape is just like that. It was almost the eve of the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the finished taro kuaiqiao could be used to worship ancestors and gods, and also for the children and grandchildren about to return home for reunion to taste. So the grandmas made an especially large amount. If piled together, they would be like a small mountain, so abundant.

Perhaps because the grandmas saw that a young person had come, which was rare, their expressions were a little shy. But after I asked one or two questions, the grandmas became very enthusiastic, laughing while answering. I guess they were laughing because they were thinking, "Why is he asking such simple questions?"

Below, I will briefly share with you through pictures a record of the process of making Grandma's taro kuaiqiao in Jingliao:

• First, stir-fry shredded taro, shiitake mushrooms, fried shallots, minced meat, glutinous rice slurry, glutinous rice flour, and dried shrimp until cooked, and set aside. (Grandma's tip: after all the ingredients are stir-fried until cooked, then add the shredded taro and stir-fry until half-cooked. Cooked shredded taro easily becomes too soft, which makes the later kneading inconvenient; also, if cooked shredded taro then goes through the steaming process again, it easily becomes mushy and loses its texture.)
• Mix a certain proportion of glutinous rice slurry and glutinous rice flour evenly. Add the "fried kuaiqiao cloth." After the glutinous rice dough gradually forms, add the stir-fried ingredients and knead them in to complete the basic material.
• Weigh the raw taro kuaiqiao dough one by one and divide it into small portions (3 to 4 liang), then shape them into jiaobei shapes and place them on oiled banana leaves. They can then be put into the pot to steam, and the fragrant and chewy taro kuaiqiao is ready!

Fried kuaiqiao cloth: First fry a few pieces of glutinous rice dough until cooked.

Grandma still has a lot of hand strength!

Add the stir-fried ingredients and knead them in.


The fragrant and chewy taro kuaiqiao is ready!

After the work was finished, everyone each carried home their allotted taro kuaiqiao. The mama zhang, with great authority, loudly instructed, "Don't forget to come back after noon to clean up together!" The grandmas rode their bicycles through the small country lanes and each disappeared, probably hurrying home to cook and wait for their grandchildren to return.

When I was little, before the New Year, Grandma would gather everyone back to the old home, and we would all get together to make sweet rice cake. The winter was cold, and we all huddled in the kitchen of the sanheyuan, kneading dough while leaning close to one another for warmth. I really miss that warm scene. Although the weather this time was hot, seeing this scene that I had not seen for so long really gave me the illusion of returning to Grandma's home.