There's Something Fishy Going On Here
Chang Chiung-fang / photos Chuang Kung-ru / tr. by Phil Newell
April 2010

There must be some mistake! A sushi restaurant in a traditional market? Where you have to wait in line just to get your hands on some food? It's all the more astounding given that you have to eat standing up, and in just 30 minutes you can easily chew your way through NT$1000-2000. Yet still the customers come in endless streams day after day. What's the secret?
It's just past two in Taipei City's Shidong Market, and the tide of people coming to dine or buy food at a market stall has receded. Only at Chef Ah Ji is there still a lot of action going on, as chefs behind the sushi bar busily slice up fish while customers out front smack their lips in pleasure as they snap commemorative photos.
One regular, a businessman who lives mostly in mainland China these days, immediately upon getting back to Taiwan brought two of his friends from Beijing here to stand in front of the stall and indulge themselves in a meal. When the bill comes to NT$6000, he doesn't blink an eye, proclaiming that it was well worth it.
What's the attraction? Why is it "standing room only"? Why are young people who don't look at all like the typical shoppers you see in traditional markets willing to line up amidst the cacophony and human-bumper-car nature of these places for 30 minutes just to try Chef Ah Ji's sushi?
One of the most striking scenes for any visitor to the Shidong Market is the sight of a crowd of folks forced to stand while eating. Why no chairs? Chef Ah Ji (Xie Zhengji) says that they are just following the rules of the game of the traditional market-his stall is in the fish section, not the dining section, and nobody is allowed to put chairs in the aisles of the food shopping areas.
So why doesn't he just move to the dining area? "The heavy smell of the smoke from the oil of food being wok-fried in the dining area clashes with the light flavor of sushi," explains Ah Ji, "whereas here I'm surrounded on all sides by fish, which is much more compatible!"

Though hidden away in a corner of the Shidong Market, the Ah Ji Shi restaurant gets lines of people waiting just for the opportunity to eat standing up! The diners come for the nigiri sushi, made by laying super-fresh and meticulously carved raw fish (i.e. sashimi) atop rice squeezed by hand into palm-sized portions.
Ah Ji, now 60, who left home at 17 to begin his apprenticeship in a sushi shop, has never been in any other line of work these 40-plus years. He has been employed in famous high-class Japanese restaurants with all the trimmings, and also had his own Japanese restaurants in some of Taipei's toniest neighborhoods. Three years ago he pulled out of the market. He says that he has never really wanted to do anything but "carve sashimi" (the slicing of raw fish is a veritable art form, in case you didn't know!) and didn't want to be part of any big operation anymore. But gourmet friends like Lucille Han and Yeh Yilan wouldn't leave him alone, repeatedly asking him, "Since you have the craftsmanship, why don't you use it?" Unable to resist, Ah Ji "took the plunge" once more, setting up a "stand-up dining" stall (in imitation of a Japanese fad) to sell nigiri sushi (sushi with raw fish laid on top) in the midst of the fresh fish area of a traditional market.
Ah Ji picked up right where he left off, doing everything with extraordinary dedication and perfectionism. Each day at 3 a.m. he has gone to select fresh-off-the-boat fish, starting his food preparation chores in the Shidong Market at six.
Lots of places have nigiri sushi, but the raw fish in Chef Ah Ji's tastes especially savory and has a full-bodied texture. This is because, however much fish he carves, the one thing he never cuts is corners-from bleeding and gutting the fish to temperature control and display.
"A person who cooks for a living has to have a certain kind of determination," says Ah Ji. You don't get tasty sashimi just by having freshness alone-the real key is in how you handle the fresh fish. A fish has to be bled so it doesn't retain that pungent blood-and-guts odor; and it has to be stored for a certain period at a certain temperature in order to produce the amino acids that make it more flavorful.
Each type of fish has its own ideal storage temperature. For example, oily fish (such as salmon) need low temperatures (-5°C); sea urchin is best kept at -15°C; non-oily fish (like bluefin tuna) should be at 20°C; and shellfish should be packed in ice.
Ah Ji further explains that the way the fish is displayed affects not only the visual aesthetic of the meal, but also the flavor. For example, sashimi should never be chilled side by side with things that have been soaked in vinegar or the fish meat will absorb the acetic acid and the solid consistency and grain of the meat will be destroyed.

Though hidden away in a corner of the Shidong Market, the Ah Ji Shi restaurant gets lines of people waiting just for the opportunity to eat standing up! The diners come for the nigiri sushi, made by laying super-fresh and meticulously carved raw fish (i.e. sashimi) atop rice squeezed by hand into palm-sized portions.
Thanks to the Internet's power at spreading information-just google Ah Ji Shi (or "A Ji Shi") and you'll see the name mentioned on numerous blogs-every day from 10:00 in the morning to 5:00 in the afternoon (7:00 on weekends) there is always a group of people circling for one of the six standing spaces in front of Ah Ji's stall. Diners step forward to take their turns under the envy-filled stares of those behind them.
"I get stressed out when I see all those people lining up, and have no time to chat with customers at all," says Ah Ji with a laugh. He has never had the chance to enjoy the leisurely pace and friendly relationships typical of the traditional market, and his "semi-retired" days are more like non-stop fire drills!
With no plateware and no decoration, what Ah Ji really cares about is freshness, health, carving skill, and authentic ingredients. Customers can order what they want, or just say how much they want to spend (NT$500 is not considered too little, nor is NT$2000 considered particularly much) and the master chef will plan your meal. Ah Ji explains that each fish has both good parts (the lower jaw, stomach, spine) and bad parts, so the prices will naturally vary depending on the quality.
"Step by step" is the standard principle for serving, with light flavors (like seabream and halibut) arriving first, shellfish in the middle, and heavy flavors (like bluefin tuna) at the end. A complete 12-course meal-seabream, sweet shrimp, sardine, geoduck clam, Sakhalin surf clam, oyster, scallops, sea urchin, and more-that costs about NT$2000 leaves you feeling full and satisfied.
If you care more about atmosphere, decor, or presentation, then you'd probably be better off going to a restaurant in a big hotel, or one of those kaiseki places where they serve Japanese food with as much decorum as French haute cuisine. But if you just want to have a really good meal, why not head to Chef Ah Ji's at the Shidong Market-for the sake of the food, you'll certainly be able to "stand" it.