蚵仔煎

Curious about Taipei's oyster omelette (蚵仔煎). We ate a few versions of it. These versions carried so much potato batter, little egg and many oysters. Some are quite delicious, but I always balk at eating oysters because invariably, my worst memories of tummy runs come from oysters in any form. The savory sauces that topped our orders had been rather flavorsome. But I was hankering for sambal belachan. Haizzz.

All the stalls at the night markets and random little stores everywhere else will sell oyster omelette. However, these plump looking small oysters found in the waters around the country aren't freshly shucked. The wet markets sell them without the shells. And at the food stalls, the oysters are left in a pail of water that might or might not be kept cold with ice. The risk of contamination is seriously high. While waiting for another friend one night, we randomly strolled along the bustling streets on yet another night market. Towards the edge of it, there were quieter food stalls and more space to breathe. A snack before actual dinner elsewhere. A practice most Chinese communities eagerly follow. I suppose this explains the inclination to eat small bites all day long. What construes a snack at the night markets can be an almost full portion of dinner for me.

Didn't know what got into us to sit down at one superbly stomach-churning roadside stall to share a plate of oyster omelette. Even right after we saw how the noodles were washed. Eiooowww. The plate that came looked decent lah. I've a cast-iron stomach, but even so, I was reluctant to put stuff from street stalls into it. I picked at the egg bits. Really very little of those. H merrily ate all the gooey starch. As usual, A ate up everything else.