This method of slow-cooking pork and the meat cooked in this manner are both called khòng-bah in Taiwanese (or kongrou in Mandarin). In tracing its origins, Chen Yu-jen, a professor of Taiwan culture, languages and literature at National Taiwan Normal University and a scholar of the island’s food culture, notes that it derives from hong-bah (fengrou), the braised streaky pork that is a fixture of catered banquet food. And in Taiwan, where pork is an important source of protein, hong-bah braised pork has become one of the most representative dishes of the island’s culinary culture.

The many styles of braised pork

In addition to Taiwanese-style khòng-bah, with its roots in the Hokkien cuisine of Southern Fujian, Taiwan has absorbed braised pork styles from far and wide, including Dongpo braised pork, which comes from Jiangsu and Zhejiang cuisine, as well as Hakka takes on braised pork, such as wenkongrou and meigan kourou. All are commonly consumed on the island.

Huang Shouzheng has run the fusion restaurant Chef Showtime in Taipei for 22 years and is known as Chef Ah-Zheng by his regular customers. Drawing from his many years of restaurant experience, he explains that ­Hokkien- and Hakka-style braised pork and Dongpo braised pork can be distinguished by the variations in their ingredients, seasonings and sauces. Dongpo braised pork is made with Shaoxing rice wine, whereas mijiu rice wine is used in the Hokkien and Hakka versions of feng­rou braised pork. Hokkien-style hong-bah sometimes comes with bamboo shoots, whereas the Hakka version typically comes with mustard greens or pickled bamboo shoots. Huang learned Kyoto cuisine while he worked under a Japanese chef, and he borrowed from its techniques to create his unique take on braised pork—suanmiao changfang (“garlic shoot rectangle”)—for his own restaurant.

With 22 years of experience operating restaurants, Huang Shouzheng combined braised pork techniques from various cuisines to create a unique dish of his own.

The classic Taiwanese braised pork over rice: A piece of braised pork on white rice, drizzled with braising stock and garnished with diced pork and dried daikon radish.

Braised pork around the clock

With modern people’s general preference for less oil and salt, it is rare these days to see large uncut chunks of braised pork outside of banquets, but small chunks of braised pork matched with white rice is commonly seen everywhere in Taiwan, particularly in Changhua, where braised pork over rice, bawan meat dumplings and cat-mouse noodles are known as “Changhua’s three treasures.” Food critic Shu Kuo-chih has described braised pork over rice as one of Chang­hua City’s trademark dishes.

There is a high concentration of eateries in Chang­hua City that sell or even exclusively sell braised pork over rice, higher than anywhere else in Taiwan. ­Reflecting a unique commercial ecology, proprietors have come to a tacit understanding about their hours of operation: For the sake of keeping ingredients fresh and quality high, their operating hours do not exceed two mealtimes. They open from breakfast until lunch or from “snack time” at three or four in the afternoon through dinnertime. There are also establishments that open at nine at night and stay open through the wee hours of the morning.

An establishment’s operating times are determined by location and clientele. In Changhua, shops offering braised pork over rice take their position in a never-ending relay race, making the dish available 24 hours a day.

A braised pork over rice vendor in Changhua carefully selects a cut of pork for a customer. Residents of the city are as particular about their cuts of pork as steak lovers are about cuts of beef.

Because of the length of time needed to braise pork, chefs pin hock skin and shank meat together with bamboo skewers.

Origins as banquet food

In tracing the development of Changhua braised pork over rice, clues can be found in the saying: “Those who cross from Fuzhou to Taiwan carry three blades with them.” Skilled craftsmen, people from Fuzhou carried with them three cutting implements: scissors for tailoring, knives for cooking, and razors for barbering. Among the five main places of origin of early immigrants to Changhua from the Chinese mainland—Zhangzhou, Quanzhou, Chaozhou, Fuzhou and Dingzhou—most came from Fuzhou. And from the Qing Dynasty to the era of Japanese colonial rule, Changhua was an administrative center and a major commercial base. A strong demand for hospitality supported many eating and drinking establishments and cultivated many banquet chefs. Times changed, and in the period after World War II, when many restaurants went out of business, those chefs began to sell snacks from carts or stalls. They cleverly simplified the banquet food of the past and turned it into every­day food for the common people.

“Consequently, many representative snack foods of Changhua demonstrate a clear in­heri­tance from banquet cuisine and possess a certain sophistication,” explains Sam Chiu, founder of the Luko Changhua Travel Library, as we walk the streets of Changhua City to sample what the shops and stalls have to offer. These labor-­intensive and unexpectedly rich snacks can be traced back to the dishes and soups of banquet food, including of course bowl after bowl of oily and fragrant braised pork over rice. Taking a look around, you discover that these foods can be found in ­every nook and cranny of the city. They represent a cultural heritage that is a source of the city’s pride.

Fresh pork is first blanched and trimmed before being pierced with bamboo skewers and braised in a pot with soy sauce, sugar cane and seasonings.

Sam Chiu, founder of the Luko Changhua Travel Library, swells with pride when discussing the snack foods of his hometown.

Changhua’s unique braised pork over rice

The fact that braised pork over rice was able to become one of Changhua’s trademark dishes is thanks in no small part to the county’s abundant agricultural production. Water from the Zhoushui River enters the Babao Canal to irrigate the plain’s thousands of paddies and fields. The high-quality water is also why Changhua has many century-old soy sauce manufacturers. Meanwhile, Changhua ranks third for pig rearing among Taiwan’s counties and has the abundant seafood characteristic of a coastal county. Ingredients for braised pork include pork, soy sauce, spring onions and also the sugar cane or clams that a small number establishments add to the marinade for a certain fresh flavor. A bowl of braised pork over rice does indeed combine the treasures of local agricultural production as well as the bounty of the sea.

And with quality ingredients, the flavor is pure and simple. Changhua braised pork over rice doesn’t need to be heavily spiced or bolstered with Chinese medi­cinal herbs. “The main seasoning is soy sauce, giving it a simple, slightly savory flavor,” notes Chen Shu-hua, the author of Changhua Snacks, who has searched widely for the county’s authentic foods. 

Mouthfeel is likewise an aspect of eating that residents of Changhua emphasize. Taiwanese prefer foods with the pliant chewiness they call “Q,” an unmistakable feature of Changhua braised pork over rice. Its rice should not be excessively soggy, nor turn soft after adding the sauce.

Changhua’s braised pork chefs don’t use the other­wise ubiquitous pork belly. Instead they favor pork shank and other cuts from the legs. Apart from being convenient to cut into chunks and trim properly, it’s also because Changhua braised pork does not have the “melt-in-the-mouth” quality of Dongpo pork or Hakka fengrou pork. Pigskin stewed for a long time remains supple and chewy. As a result, the leaner shank and hock meats with their firm texture have become top choices.

But to make the pork taste well-­seasoned but not dry or tough, establishments must expend some effort while stewing. They can’t simply put a pot of marinated meat on a slow simmer. The cooks at Changhua’s food stalls and eateries are masters of heat control. Many of them choose to ­cycle through lower and higher temperatures, braising in stages. And to keep the skin and meat together while braising, they skewer the skin and the lean meat together. It creates a unique look that makes Changhua’s braised pork stand out from others.

Different cuts of braised pork offer different flavors.

To each a personal favorite

A hundred different braised pork establishments will produce a hundred different flavors of pork. “Ever­yone has their own favorites,” muses Ivy Xie, who runs a shop selling cultural and creative goods in Changhua City. “People have different work and leisure habits and different social circles. Even in the same family, the question ‘which braised pork shop is best?’ will bring different answers and may start a heated argu­ment.”

Sam Chiu leads us to Fish Market Braised Pork Rice. The shop is near his Luko Travel Library and he is a regular customer. Under his guidance, we too select the cuts we like. There are the standard shank and hock cuts that include skin and lean meat. There are also several cuts particularly favored in Changhua, such as the “rounds” between the trotters and the hocks, or the “double layer” of meat at the top of the loins. There is also the rarely used pigskin, the hamstrings (only two per pig), and trotters. And there is the purely lean meat served on the bone. Whatever cut you like, the choice is yours.

Why do people in Changhua love their braised pork over rice so much? Even at non-mealtime hours in downtown Changhua City, you can see tourists and locals alike waiting in line to get some. At Old Zhu’s Braised Pork Rice shop, the third-generation proprietor Big Brother Zhu provides an explanation: “For Chang­hua people, eating braised pork over rice is an emotional experience. That feeling represents the highest realm of braised pork over rice.” Even if these shops have no interior decor to speak of and have relocated several times, quite a few of their old customers loyally follow their moves. Some people come in a quest for the familiar flavors of their youths, and others consider their favorite braised pork shops like extensions of their own homes and come several times each week like clockwork. They become so familiar with the proprietors that they will scoop up the soup and meat for themselves.

When you think about it, what Sam Chiu says makes a lot of sense: “Ever since I was young, when I had a test or had to go to work, Dad would always tell me to have a bowl of braised pork first—that it would give me the energy I needed.” Although Taiwan has long advanced from being a resource-strapped agricultural society, people’s love of food is something that has never changed, and eating a chunk of fragrant meat over a bowl of rice fits the bill in terms of daily abundance. What more reason do you need for giving yourself a boost and recharging your batteries? The easy accessibility of this joy may be why its taste continues to be passed down.

A chunk of meat matched with a bowl of rice presents the very image of daily abundance.