Wu grew up in a village for military dependents, and his parents knew quite a bit about cooking. His family kitchen was where he learned the ropes. He is adept at Cantonese, Hakka, and Sichuan styles, and he can hold his own against many a famous restaurant chef.

For an experienced cook like Wu to be willing to pay good money to attend, a course has to be held on location. It has to give the tastebuds, the eyes, and the ears lasting sensations and impressions of the local flavor.

Near to Taiwan and full of cooking classes, Thailand is an important spot for foodies wishing to learn more. Wu first traveled to Chiang Mai in 2001 to learn authentic northern Thai cuisine at a cooking school there.

Wu says that the Thai cuisine popular in Taiwan is southern style, heavy on seafood, soups, and coconut milk. He decided on Chiang Mai in order to learn the lesser-known northern cuisine. “Northern Thai food is more sour and it’s spicier, but it’s also drier and more refreshing,” he says. “It’s similar to Yun­nan­ese and Burmese food.”

Over a week-long course, Wu learned for himself how common and convenient the Thai cooking courses were—all visitors had to do was turn up at the tourism bureau or a local hotel and ask, and they’d receive ample information. Schools also provided transportation and meals for enrolled students, and the courses were all in English. Tuition was also cheap (it is now around NT$1250 per day). For these reasons, the courses are a big hit with American and European tourists.

As for the content of the courses, they didn’t go beyond standard dishes like tom yum soup and green curry chicken. Thai cooking relies heavily on spices rather than factors like cooking times and knife work, so just about every student could make an authentic-tasting dish. The success rate was very high.

Wu visited Thailand again several years later, this time attending the cooking school set up by the famous restaurant Blue Elephant in Bangkok. Compared to the courses in Chiang Mai, the Blue Elephant’s were expensive (now around NT$2400 for a half-day), but they were carefully planned out.

The teacher would first take students to a nearby traditional market to experience the abundant variety of Thai ingredients. The strange-shaped fruits, the unfamiliar spices, the fresh fish, the live chickens, the jet-black preserved eggs—the sights would always amaze foreign visitors, but at the same time they would give them unforgettable impressions of everyday Thai culture.

The class would only formally begin once they returned to the classroom. These classes too were based around popular Thai dishes, and at the end, students were presented with a certificate to show off to their friends, a small bottle of authentic Thai sauce, and the apron they’d worn in the class.

“The entire course was an in-depth experience of food culture,” he says. “Compared with just eating a meal, it felt more fulfilling and satisfying. A tourist like me who has taken the course will always love Thai cuisine and will promote it at home for the rest of his life. This is the root of Thai cuisine’s ability to sweep the world.”

As Taiwan looks to market its food culture abroad, Wu stresses that cuisines have more striking power and influence than you would imagine. “If we want to promote Taiwanese cuisine to the world, then we should start with running more cooking schools like Thailand’s,” he says, “and move beyond the simple consumerism of having a meal. Only then can the ‘taste of Taiwan’ make a deep impression on tourists.”

“A gourmet meal can relieve your exhaustion and frustrations.” This chef with a background in broadcasting plans to keep hosting his show Happy Kitchen, searching for the good life alongside his fellow foodies.