Chronology of Mengchia, written by the late-Qing-dynasty Taiwan literatus Wang Shilang, contains the following entry on "winter tonics": "Some people slaughter a chicken or duck and stew it in 'eight treasures,' some buy lamb and black dates and make a soup, and poor households use dry longan, sticky rice, and sugar to make cakes. All these are commonly called 'tonic foods' which are particularly good for health."

From this you can see that the custom of stewing lamb or duck in Chinese medicinal herbs to "compensate" for the body's dietary shortfalls is a long-standing one. But it wasn't until Tien Cheng-te-a Hakka now in his 50s-came along that the idea of a ginger-duck chain store burst on to the scene. There is quite a story behind Tien's King Duck, one that begins with a serious illness more than two decades ago.

Starting up with NT$500

Tien Cheng-te comes from a very poor family in Chupei, Hsinchu County. After graduating from the Department of Food and Nutrition at Ta Hwa Institute of Technology and completing his compulsory military service, he found himself unemployed without a dime to his name. He was very lucky to find a job as a salesman in a company marketing Western pharmaceuticals. To get ahead, he threw himself completely into his work, and lived sparingly, often stuffing his belly with cheap steamed buns. He finally got his promotion, but just afterwards was diagnosed with liver disease. He also injured his spine, and found himself bedridden, without even the strength to lift a basin of water.

"Lying in bed, I held back the tears by telling myself that 30 years old shouldn't be the end of life, but the beginning," he recalls. Just then a descendant of a doctor of traditional Chinese medicine passed on to him a secret prescription, and admonished him to remember that the prescription should be made into a stew with a two-footed animal. Chen ended up using duck along with the prescription, because in those days duck was cheaper than chicken, and also because of his mother's example (Tien's mother hailed from Changhua, a duck producing center, and always ate duck when convalescing after the birth of a child). Little did he expect that he would be miraculously cured.

After recovering, Tien thought that he might as well start up a little business selling the medicinal duck stew that had saved his life. In 1981, with only NT$500 in hand, he went through a garbage dump and found some old tables, chairs, a gas stove, and old windows, and scarfed some wood from a friend. With these, he hammered together his first shop at the head of the Huachiang Bridge in Panchiao, Taipei County. From the car wash next door, he got a discarded white plastic water bucket, and, in red pigment, painted the characters "Ginger Duck" on it, making his first sign.

"In those days I really had a motley collection of tables and chairs-no two matched," says Tien, seated in a luxurious villa-style corporate headquarters, describing how he literally climbed out of a trash heap. His once code-violating and ramshackle Huachiang store is today brightly and elegantly decorated in "modernized antiquity" style. It remains the favorite of many old customers, and every time a cold front blows in, folks crowd in, creating a huge traffic jam at the head of the bridge.

Quack medicine

After he opened his first shop in 1981, Tien applied for a trademark for the term "ginger duck." When it was determined in 1986 that this was a generic name for a food and thus could not be used as a trademark, Tien formally adopted the name King Duck. Though he failed to get exclusive rights to use the term "ginger duck," and there are now countless other restaurants serving the dish, Tien has always been able to rely on a word-of-mouth reputation built up over the years. In the first year after adopting the new name Tien hung out 100 shingles for King Duck, and today has a chain of more than 500 shops. The flagship store in Taichung is amazing, with more than 330 square meters of floor space and over 2000 square meters for parking.

Tien, who has a degree in traditional Chinese medicine from Xi'an Medical College in mainland China, is able to describe in detail the benefits and special features of the ginger duck with which he has feathered his nest.

Legend has it that the famous Shang dynasty practitioner Wu Zhong used sesame oil to fry up duck meat, and then stewed it with ginger and heated wine. The emperor consumed a dish of this aromatic, peppery-sweet ginger duck, and immediately felt a sense of relaxation, as though his tendons, muscles and acupuncture meridians had all opened up to the free flow of qi. He showered the concoction with praise, and thereafter it spread among the common people.

Traditional Chinese medical opinion relates that ginger duck can "accelerate blood circulation." In women, who supposedly do little and therefore have poor circulation, it resolves the problem of cold hands and feet. In men, presumed to work hard to make a living, resulting in bone and muscle problems and aching backs, accelerated blood circulation can heal injuries quickly.

After red-faced muscovy duck was introduced into Taiwan from Holland in the 16th century, it became known as the best food for children during the developmental stage known in Chinese as "bone transformation" (zhuangu). In fact, fresh red duck meat is loaded with hemoglobin, oxymyoglobin, and protein, so it certainly is very suitable for adolescents just going through puberty. According to the theories of traditional Chinese medicine, duck meat can also nourish women's constitution and help to generate healthy blood, can treat a particular "shortcoming of the organs" of which thirst is a main symptom, and is ideal for those suffering from exhaustion, sleeplessness, or lightheadedness.

Cold duck time

According to the Chinese culinary worldview, duck is "cold," so you have to stew it with ginger or alcohol in order for it to have the functions of "dispelling wind and eradicating cold" and "relaxing the tendons, muscles, and meridians, and accelerating the flow of blood." Moreover, you must use ginger that has produced seeds for more than two years-this is known by the term jiangmu ("old ginger") in Chinese-and be sure to use the bark as well.

As for that other vital ingredient, rice wine, in the past King Duck always used "red label" rice wine, a long-time staple of local cooking. Each duck was divided into five servings, and they used one bottle of red label (about 600 cc) per serving, or five bottles of rice wine for each bird.

Now that the price of standard rice wine has gone up to NT$130 per bottle, taking into account the need to maintain quality and to give the public confidence that the wine they are consuming is safe, King Duck now make their stew with 80-proof "Daoxiang" cooking rice-wine, produced by the Taiwan Tobacco and Wine Company (formerly the government monopoly bureau), and moreover they only use one 600 cc bottle per duck. After the duck comes out of the cooking pot, those who prefer more zing can buy a bottle of whatever they like-the options include 40-proof Daoxiang, Taiwan Sugar Corporation DIY sweet rice wine, or privately manufactured medicinal liqueur-and pour it in themselves. And if you dip your ginger duck, with its medicinal and alcohol flavor, in some especially appetizing fermented tofu, it will go down even better.

Taiwan produces 1.8-2.0 million muscovy duck per year. At least half of these end up in ginger duck. At, say, one million servings of ginger duck per year, at five bottles of rice wine per duck, ginger duck operators alone used five million bottles of rice wine, so you can see that the switch over to cheaper alternatives has created a dramatic shift in demand.

Now that the rice wine market has been liberalized, if you ask Tien Cheng-te what rice wine goes best with ginger duck, not wanting to offend anybody, he just says, "Each has its own flavor." But he also states that Taiwanese have been stewing food with "red label" rice wine for decades, so everyone is accustomed to that taste. The most unique thing about red label rice wine is the sweetness that comes from its use of a kind of alcohol known as mixiang ("rice-aromatic"). Mixiang alcohol is produced by fermenting and distilling rice, and then adding flavorings. It has the same effect as MSG, accenting the flavor of food. It's no surprise that Tien also has high praise for Taiwan Sugar Corporation's DIY sweet rice wine, which includes mixiang alcohol: "TSC's rice wine makes ginger duck even tastier!"

Mum's the word

In Taiwan food fads are here today and gone tomorrow, but Tien Cheng-te shrugs off the possibility of losing public favor like water off a duck's back: "Ginger duck will never go out of fashion, because its flavor reminds people of their mothers; it is deeply imprinted inside everyone." After women in Taiwan give birth, it is customary to "sit for a month"-i.e. convalesce-and during this period women have traditionally consumed tonic foods like sesame-oil chicken and ginger duck. Tien avers that during this time newborns pick up the aromas and flavors of these foods, even in mother's milk, and develop a "habit" that forever associates these with the idea of Mum.

It is nighttime, and on red lanterns are written the words "dispels wind and eradicates cold," calling ginger-duck lovers to squeeze in. Through the open door of the shop, you see enormous round tables set out like a wedding banquet. Next to the cooking pot just outside the door are stacked cases of rice wine. At the stove, the chef heats up some fragrant sesame oil in a wok, and tosses in some ginger. With a cleaver he chops a duck into pieces, and quick-fries the chunks over a high flame. After he throws them into a broth, he dumps in a bottle of rice wine. The ginger duck in the pot tumbles and roils, and flames leap up; it is served still bubbling.

Three or four old buddies sit around a table munching away, feeling the satisfying warmth spread through their bodies. As the alcohol takes effect, they become happy and excitable. Amidst the noise and chatter, they feel that enormous sense of well-being that comes with crowding around a blazing fire in wintertime. It would be safe to conclude that there is no wintertime "tonic" dish more welcome and more deeply rooted in Taiwanese culture than ginger duck.

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Glug-glug! With an extra bottle or two of rice wine added, ginger duck-which also includes Chinese medicine, rice wine, and sesame oil-is certain to send a satisfying sensation of warmth and comfort from head to toe.

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Fermented tofu

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Dark sesame oil

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Old ginger