Taiwan’s Quintessential Flavor:

“We don’t approach the matter from the perspective of restaurateurs. Rather, as long as something is good for the environment, we’re willing to give it a go,” says Jennifer Wang, CEO of Jiami, an eco-friendly restaurant in Taipei’s Zhongzheng District. Wang explains that Jiami—from the vegetarian menus it has offered since its inception to its recent inclusion of seafood—has always been at the forefront of green food trends. Its pioneering efforts are intended to make a positive impact on the food industry and to raise public awareness of food safety, health, and sustainable food practices.

The Covid-19 pandemic dealt a sudden blow to Jiami’s long-term endeavors, and relocation and refurbishing put extra pressure on the business. Despite the unremitting challenges, however, Wang held fast to her beliefs. Having moved to its current location in downtown Taipei, Jiami enlisted Howard Chen, with his background at prestigious hotels and in American-style cuisine, to serve as its chef. The team work hard to debunk common misconceptions that associate vegetarian food with high prices, and sustainability with unattainably lofty visions. They want every morsel of their tasty offerings to encapsulate authentic flavors of Taiwan—including Taiwanese salt.

Savoring salt

Pack sea salt into a stem of bamboo about five or six centimeters in diameter. Baked in a special kiln, the salt absorbs chemicals released from the bamboo and takes on a zesty flavor reminiscent of the hot springs of Beitou. After gently frying a miiuy croaker sourced in Penghu, coat the fish with bamboo salt to bring out its fresh fragrance. The salt also works magic on the mushy peas accompanying the fish by taking away their astringency—a gentle, sweet aftertaste lingers in the mouth.

Combine locally farmed sea bass with onions, juniper berries, locally grown rosemary, and other spices. Wrap the whole in parchment paper, and bake the packet in an oven. When it comes out, the dish brims with the purest flavors of the sea. A pinch of “Jiami Salt,” which carries a hint of citrus, serves to enhance the delicious taste even further.

In addition to salt that comes from the sea, there is Roxburgh sumac (Rhus chinensis var. roxburghii), a deciduous tree whose trunk secretes a salty substance, and whose berries also have a slightly salty kick amidst their fruity aroma. Roxburgh sumac berries can be stirred into sourdough with cranberries, raisins, and dried apricots. The resulting confection bears a bewilderingly rich scent of fruit that makes us wonder where exactly it comes from. Actually it is that hint of salt that helps boost the sweet fragrance, preventing it from becoming cloying.

Invisible as it often is, salt plays a decisive role in bringing out the flavors of food.

Green food

For most Taiwanese people, salt may indeed be just as Wang describes it: “Salt is something you consume every day. You can’t do without it. Salt is essential for the body, but it’s an ingredient that people generally don’t pay much attention to.” However, Jiami, with its preference for local ingredients, not only puts a high premium on salt, but has gone so far as to use six different kinds of Taiwanese salt in its culinary offerings. This is part and parcel of Jiami’s pursuit of green food.

Speaking of Jiami’s green philosophy, Howard Chen quips that theirs is “a restaurant in the hands of invisible fate.” While most other restaurants have measures in place to ensure a stable stock of ingredients, Chen often finds himself having to quickly adjust the day’s menu in response to unexpected changes in his food supplies. However, rather than complaining about these uncertainties, Chen sees them as precious opportunities to challenge himself and hone his craft.

Chen and Wang spend considerable time visiting farms and factories, where they have discovered various types of local produce. While many restaurants insist on using imported foods, the pair find that these can often be replaced by better-­quality items produced in Taiwan. Many ingredients that do not usually command much attention are in fact Taiwan’s pride and joy, demonstrating the enormous potential of local agriculture. It was during one such visit that Chen and Wang came across a distinctively local kind of salt at Zhounan Salt Field in Chiayi’s Budai Township.

These six types of Taiwanese salt inflect the flavors of the same dish in subtly different ways.

Jennifer Wang (right) and Howard Chen (left) have discovered the enormous potential of Taiwanese produce during their visits to local farms and factories.

Roxburgh sumac berries taste both sweet and salty, just like the lí-á-kiâm candied plums in traditional Taiwanese confectionery.

Taiwanese salt

Like the fleur de sel often used in European cuisine, what is known as Jiami Salt comes from the thin crusts of crystals that float on the surface of salt evaporation ponds on a warm, sunny day. While collecting this special salt, Tsai Jiung-­chiau, founder of the firm that revived saltmaking at the historic Zhounan Salt Field, noticed that its flavor is to a great extent affected by Dunaliella salina, a micro-alga that thrives in salt fields.

One of the few algae found in hypersaline environments, Dunaliella salina produces large quantities of glycerol and beta-­carotene when exposed to intense sunlight, turning salt fields into gorgeous canvases of orange-red or pink. Lured by these romantic colors, tourists visit salt fields to capture the views. For seasoned salt workers, however, these are unremarkable sights.

One day, says Tsai, as soon as he arrived at the salt field, “The scent of algae washed over me, just like the waves of heat you feel in the air when soaking in a hot spring. At that moment I realized that there is more to Dunaliella salina than meets the eye. We shouldn’t underestimate it.” It was this realization that prompted Tsai to explore the influence of this halophilic alga on the flavor of salt, and to embrace it in Zhounan’s commercial blueprint. The result is their “algal fleur de sel.”

To better understand the relationship between salt and climate, Tsai used worksheets to record details such as salt harvesting dates, temperatures, weather conditions, and rainfall, deliberately distinguishing between algal and non-algal fleur de sel. In 2020 Zhounan launched a series of fleur de sel products whose flavors subtly reflect seasonal changes across the year, named for some of the 24 solar terms of the traditional Chinese lunisolar calendar, such as xiazhi (summer solstice), dashu (“major heat”), and xiaoshu (“minor heat”). Because salt harvesting varies every year in response to changes in the climate, these seasonal salts are also referred to as “climate-change special editions.”

Packed with unique, irreproducible flavors, these one-off products gave Tsai the opportunity to build a connection with consumers.

Through close observations at Zhounan Salt Field, Tsai Jiung-chiau has come to realize that even the slightest changes in the climate can have a profound impact on the flavors of salt.

Tsai Jiung-chiau, who played a key role in restoring Zhounan Salt Field in Chiayi County’s Budai Township, has been devoted to the promotion and development of Taiwan’s artisanal salt industry for many years.

Subtle differences

If Jiami uses culinary ingenuity to tell stories of ingredients, food producers, and the land, Tsai also borrows other people’s culinary expertise to communicate the story of Taiwanese salt.

Wu Chien-hao, chef at Asha’s Restaurant in Tainan, once said to Tsai: “Since I started to use your salt, I’ve never looked back.” Today, this decades-old local establishment uses salt produced at Zhounan for all of its culinary creations. Wu has also selected 3.5-millimeter coarse salt, produced to order at Zhounan, for curing mullet roe, an essential part of traditional Lunar New Year cuisine.

Through Tsai’s recommendations, Regent Taipei teamed up with artisan salt makers across Taiwan in 2023 to offer specially crafted foods featuring eight types of local salt. The hotel also trained salt sommeliers not only to help customers discern the subtle differences between the salts, but also to tell the stories behind them, demonstrating how to relate food to the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals.

Perhaps the most outstanding item on Regent Taipei’s salt bar is the fleur de sel contributed by Wan Feng Soy Sauce in Douliu, Yunlin County. This comes from salt-rich black bean soy sauce vats, produced through a process of ­repeated evaporation and recrystallization. Having absorbed the aroma of soy sauce over a long period of time, the salt carries a particularly rich and pungent flavor.

Wu Kuo-pin, third-generation owner of Wan Feng, says that this special fleur de sel was originally just a byproduct of making black bean soy sauce. Thanks to Tsai’s encouragement, it was recommended to professional cooks, and—to Wu’s surprise—has become immensely popular. Only a very small quantity is produced each year, and supplies are not always guaranteed, but orders keep rolling in.

Tsai believes that salt is like fruit, insofar as both are affected by rainfall, sunlight, and subtle environmental changes. These factors account for the unique character of each batch of salt. “Every piece of fruit tastes different. Salt is the same. It’s just that we don’t usually make a song and dance about those fine differences.” But it is precisely the little-noticed variations that point to the true value of Taiwanese salt: being born of nature, it embodies the authentic flavors of the land.

The special flavors that different environmental conditions bestow on salt don’t often cry out for attention. However, compared with other seasonings, salt plays an indispensable—albeit self-effacing—role, serving faithfully to enhance the original flavors of the main ingredients. “Only by stepping back from the limelight can salt help round out a tasty and flavorsome dish,” Tsai says.

Tsai Jiung-chiau is on a mission to debunk stereotypical associations of salt production with backbreaking labor. He seeks to create new connections and interpretations for this traditional industry by finding inspiration in the everyday life of modern Taiwan. (courtesy of Zhounan Salt Field)

The Regent Taipei hotel has launched a farm-to-table initiative, helping customers understand the connections between salt and Taiwan while pampering their tastebuds. (courtesy of Regent Taipei)

Telling the story of Taiwan

Tsai is currently sketching out a vision for the next phase of developing Taiwan’s artisanal salt industry: “I hope to link up all salt makers in Taiwan so that we can work and grow together, like friends, to benefit handmade salt across the whole of Taiwan, as well as processed and value-added products that are advertised as featuring Taiwanese salt. And then, we’ll aim to foster international connections by promoting Taiwanese salt on the global stage.”

With the restoration of abandoned salt fields, Taiwanese salt is making a comeback, this time laden with the rich tradition of solar salt production across our islands. What’s next? Taiwanese salt makers are set to embrace new opportunities to exercise their creativity and show us that local salt is far more than just a condiment. Rather, it offers insights into how the Taiwanese people perceive and appreciate their environment.

This special fleur de sel carries the aroma of soy sauce. Not only is it perfect as a condiment, but it can also be combined with chocolate to enrich its cocoa flavor.

Tsai Jiung-chiau has teamed up with salt makers across Taiwan to curate Taiwan Salt Selects, an exhibition at the Huashan 1914 Creative Park which aims to bring precious local salts to the attention of the wider world.