Lai Cing-­soong, the founder of the Ko-Tong Rice Club and a luminary in Taiwan’s back-to-the-land movement, describes Small Location Book Cuisine as being “located at a five-way intersection meriting a traffic light in Shen­gou’s silk-stocking district.” This “silk-stocking district” isn’t really much to look at. 200 Akker (a grass-roots organization promoting sustainable agriculture on the Lan­yang Plain) is nearby. Next door is the Cat Lady Restaurant, whose proprietress is also a 200 Akker partner. But don’t underestimate the power of this interconnected community of new-age foodies and back-to-the-landers.

Small Location Book Cuisine embraces the ethos of environmentally friendly agriculture. The fruits and vegetables it sells were grown by local small farmers. The produce may not look perfect, but buyers can rest assured it is free from pesticides.

The writer Liu Ka-­shiang describes Small Location Book Cuisine as a “general store of the future.” Though it seems as if you’re going back in time when you enter, the store is actually on the cutting edge.

It opens at ten sharp, at which time its female proprietor Peng Xian­­hui gets busy arranging the fresh produce she has just purchased from farmers.

The two handmade bookcases display used books, which are arranged by category, as well as a small number of recently purchased new books. A nailed-together wooden platform at the center of the space, in addition to displaying vegetables, also features an eclectic mix of prepared foods, stationery and knickknacks. Non-GMO fragrant stewed tofu, handmade lard, handmade soy sauce, peanut brittle, toy birds made from reclaimed wood, maps, and postcards are all cheerfully mixed together.

Of course, the shop also carries the Xiao Jian Rice that the store’s male proprietor, Peng’s husband Jenner ­Chiang, produces himself. Today the sun-dried Tai­chung long-grain rice is displayed for sale in a bamboo sieve. Curious customers ask: “What’s the difference between sun-dried and mechanically dried rice?” “If you really pay close attention while you’re eating,” ­Chiang responds with a smile, “you’ll notice that sun-dried rice has the flavor of sunlight.”

Trading vegetables for books brings to mind some idealized time from the misty past, when people bartered and took only what they needed.

Why would a couple just entering their forties choose to open a store selling used books and environmentally friendly produce? It never ceases to amaze people.

For most of the past two decades, ­Chiang worked as an information engineer and his wife Peng worked as a graphic designer. “In all honesty, it wasn’t all that difficult to change course,” ­Chiang says. Each of them separately confirms that they had grown weary of their nine-to-five jobs in the city, so they left Tai­chung and decamped to Yi­lan, where they rented some farmland. To put food on their table, they went from being workers attentive to the needs of their bosses, to famers attentive to the whims of the weather.

Just when they were looking forward to a fresh start in life in Yi­lan, Peng had a stroke. After convalescing for more than a month, her condition stabilized and she decided to push forward her plan to realize a long-held dream of opening a bookstore. Rather than a business, it might be more apt to describe Small Location Book Cuisine as a a manifestation of Peng’s post-illness worldview.

“‘Small Location’ is the phrase that best describes our approach to the second half of our lives.” Peng explains that the Taiwanese phrase for “small location” comes from the Japanese koma, which means “a space the size of six tatamis.” It carries a connotation of desiring only the smallest amount of material possessions.

Jenner Chiang went from being a worker attentive to the needs of his boss, to a famer attentive to the whims of the weather. Is he happy with the transition? His growing vitality and stamina offer the best answer to that question.

The bold move to open a lonely bookstore in a remote rural town was supported by a strong need.

“I opened a bookstore to meet a need of my own,” says Peng. Frail and sick in childhood, she became a voracious reader to pass the time. Ever since she worked at the Tung­hua bookstore as a college student, she held the dream of opening a bookstore herself. When she graduated and entered the workforce, she found a job in graphic design and drew up covers for books and magazines. A close connection to books thus remained. The strength of that connection is obvious.

In a location too remote for most book distributors, Small Location Book Cuisine has largely relied on media to get the word out. Friends new and old bring a couple of books in exchange for some food. Everyone benefits and gets what they need.

Because the store was founded based on the needs of the owner, the imprint of her spirit and personality are clear to see. The shop only purchases books that she herself likes. “I only take books that I’d be happy to take home if the shop one day had to close,” she says pithily.

The bookshop boss prefers more literary and artsier choices, such as novels, poetry, travelogues, photography collections, cooking books, children’s books and so forth. Books on finance and investment are politely refused.

She is distressed by people who are too lazy to take the books that the bookshop doesn’t want back home with them, and instead leave them behind for the bookshop to deal with. “Just because I don’t want them doesn’t mean that other stores won’t want them.” Peng hopes that these books will find friends elsewhere.

Ultimately how are values determined when bartering? What is acceptable, and what isn’t? “There’s no set standard. It’s all spontaneous,” replies Peng Xian­hui.

Operating for more than a year with this standard of no standards, Small Location Book Cuisine has started breaking even, allowing its proprietors to make ends meet.

Located in a refurbished rice mill, Small Location Book Cuisine has a simple, down-to-earth style that reflects the aesthetics and design talents of its proprietress.

The store is open from ten to five every Wednesday to Sunday. The owners get up when the sun rises and rest when it sets. They haven’t gone the way of 24-hour urban convenience stores.

Interestingly, the business follows the rhythms of the solar terms outlined in traditional Chinese almanacs. Its busiest time of the year is when March and April flowers come with spring’s warmth. ­Chiang’s fields, totalling more than 3.5 hectares, are already filled with green rice seedlings, but it’s no time to relax. Every day he’s busy replanting patches where the seedlings haven’t taken, and picking apple snails off the plants. It’s only on the weekends when you can see him in the store spelling his wife.

As the saying goes, “Those who live near the temple pay the deities no heed.” Those who live nearby don’t seem to understand what Small Location Book Cuisine is trying to do and aren’t particularly interested in going inside for a look. On the other hand, teachers and office workers from other Yi­lan locales come by to visit from time to time. “During the week our customers are all from Yi­lan, and during weekends and holidays many come from outside the county.”

This is the third year that ­Chiang has planted rice in Yi­lan. It seems he’s already established a name for himself: Although he’s only just planted his Xiao Jian Rice and harvesting is four months away, he already has orders for half of the expected harvest.

Word is gradually getting out about the store too, drawing more and more people to come and exchange books. Some even send boxes full of books to donate. After assembling stock for more than a year, Peng now has so many children’s books that she has decided to rent a space across from the Shen-Gou Elementary School to turn into a reading room filled with books for children.

When you sincerely want to do something, everyone is willing to help. Small Location Book Cuisine is not only taking people back to a benevolent age of bartering and taking only what you need, it is simultaneously bearing witness to the boundless beauty that can be found within a small space in a remote location, and to the simple joys of farming and reading.

Handmade kumquat jam, homemade prunes, home-brewed black bean soy sauce, peanut candy…. The store is stocked with a variety of artisanal food products.