It’s as if the air changes when you enter. There is a lightness in serenity and a weightlessness of good feng shui. The little vegetarian haven tucked into the narrow, crowded alleys of the Da An neighborhood is a respite from the bustle outside. The design is meant to simultaneously soothe and invite creativity, a sharp contrast to the spikes of cement rising from the pavement, acting as shelter and office space in so much of the city. Much of Taiwan is quite ugly on the outside, but more and more spaces are playing with their inner spaces and the design that is cropping up is quite amazing.
This restaurant in particular (the name escapes me) is a medley of lines and curves, of different textures. The deep curves of the rough hewn bowls mirror the curves of the backs of our seats, and contrast with the vertical slatted dividers which both segment and integrate the place. The restaurant also serves as a showcase and store for the beautiful hand made pottery. Pricey and exquisite, I can see spending hours pouring over each individual piece, mostly tea kettles. The colors of the clay, the severity of the curves, the amount of texture, call out how lovingly each one was created.
When you can tear yourself away from the shop area, you are seated in a cozy corner (for there are a number of cozy corners in this place) with great acoustics. Even with a number of other diners in close proximity, it was only my party’s conversation heard. The menu is all vegetarian with tasty options like seseme sauce noodles with fresh sprouts and greens, open ravioli with creamy tomato topping and parmesan cheese, and a delicious curry with all local, seasonal, extremely fresh ingredients.
This place is a haven of beauty in a sea of lackluster exteriors and, often, interiors. When we know that our experience with food, our experience with each other, can be so full of beauty, dimension and light, why do we so often accept much less?
