I know explanted Southern Californians who need In-n-Out every time they go back and I have a friend from Atlanta who requires Chik-Fil-A on the way home from the airport. This has made me realize that I don’t really have such a food that signals, “I’m home.”
I’m told that here in Taiwan, Yong He Soymilk Magnate is what returning overseas Taiwanese insist on between landing at Tongyuan Airport and going to sleep off the 18+ hour flight.
The food is prepared just outside the restaurant so that pedestrians can grab-and-go for less than one US dollar per item.
The quintessential Chinese breakfast is a fried dough stick wrapped in a sesame-encrusted, very flaky bread. One of my American quirks that people in Asia always comment on is my need to have a cold drink with every meal. I was thirsty, so I had two cold, sweet soybean milks. Hot soymilk is served in a bowl and can either be sweetened or savory.
An excellent way to start eating my way around Taipei. I also guess that this means that I should think about what food means “home” to me.