Fanning for Formosa

As the youngest, and thus automatically the smallest, least well read, and least Taiwanese member of my family, I know that with each MLB season of American League East I watch, I get a little more New England and a little less Taiwanese. I know that in a few months, I will be missing this place (the Bo') like no other, and that New England is much more of what I know than anywhere else I've been. I know that when I go back to Taiwan, as familiar as everything feels, and as welcome as all the sights and stores and sounds are, I can not stand there alone. I have no peers there, only family friends and relatives who I'm not tight with. But whatever. Even as it is increasingly foreign, it is home. And on nights like this, when there is yet another snow storm in April and the work is piling on, my mind is wandering to other parts of the world. Sometimes, the Wayback takes me to the convenience stores of Eddie Bert, to taxi rides in Chinar, or to a church basement in Dorchester. Tonight, it is longing for Taiwan.

Nightmarket vendor in Taipei. Fried salty chicken from stands like this will definitely be on my "should I be persecuted for the gospel and put to death" last supper list.

From my grandfather's apartment in Tainan, in southern Taiwan. This street is lined with restaurants that thrive on the local university population.

Casual breakfast at eatery in Tainan. I love Taiwanese breakfast food. Much bettar than raisin bran. And definitely much better than the lima bean porridge they made me drink in Chinar. Or those freaking lamb noodles. WHO SERVES LAMB FOR BREAKFAST!?

A couple of blocks away, a pretentious end to an overpriced, but ultimately excellent meal with a very nicely done New Zealand shank in a new steakhouse. With its crazy prices and stiff starched napkins, it probably won't last long in the neighborhood, but boy was it tasty.