2024/11/24

Taiwan Today

Taiwan Review

That old, good, natural Iced Sour Plum Tea

October 01, 1982
Tea, taster, and tropic foliage in the center of Taipei.
It has been 18 years, and the Kung Yuan Hao still maintains its reputation as the establishment selling the best suan mei tang (sour plum tea), a traditional Chinese cold summer drink.

Walking out the west gate of Taipei's New Park, one faces the old, white Holland-style building with the sign­ board, Kung Yuan Hao. After so many years, the establishment has become, like the two giant bronze cows on each side of the park's main gate, a fixture of the area.

Ten years ago, when business at the beverage shop reached its peak, if visitors to the park did not drink a cup of iced suan mei tang or down a four-colored ice­ cream, they would feel exactly the same as the kids who did not get to ride the huge bronze cows.

The Chinese have an old saying, that those who live near a mountain make a living on the mountain, and those who live near water make a living on the water. However, among the many busi­nesses facing New Park, only the Kung Yuan Hao has specifically benefited from its location.

Ou Shih-chun, who favors crew-cut hair, now owns the shop, and judging from his appearance, it is hard to believe he is over 60. "This store was first opened in 1973 right after my retire­ment," Ou reminisces. Before it became a store, the Kung Yuan Hao was a road­ side stand. Back in 1964, Li Shui-shu set up the stand under the arcade of the San Yeh Chuang Hotel, just several simple and crude tables and benches, and sold ice cream and suan mei tang to park goers.

In the beginning, Li only intended to run a small street business. But later, to his surprise, the reputation of the deli­cious items (especially the sour plum tea) travelled fast, and soon, people near and far came to the stand for the delight­ful summer drink. In the evenings, Li's tables would be jammed with students, carrying satchels of schoolbooks.

As Li's business grew, he expanded it to the sidewalk across the street. Then in 1973, the street stands gathered near the park were all told to move to the Chunghua market-place. However, Li was not willing to relocate. He knew clearly in his own mind, that only its location near the park could guarantee the continuation of the now thriving enterprise.

After considering the matter again and again, Li finally called on Ou and asked his cooperation in the business, since Ou's house was not far from Li's street stand, and locating there would assure that Li would not lose old customers.

A new sign, reading "New Park Suan Mei Tanlg," was hung high in front of the new location. Later, "Park Suan Mei Tang" replaced the original sign. The lucrative trade brought in rich profits for several years.

A brilliant coat of red paint announces the "new" Kung Yuan Hao to passersby.

"The good business of the past was because of the low cost of supplies," Ou explained and added, "But now, prices are terribly high. A catty of dried plums has increased from NT$30 to NT$150. A large bag of sugar has jumped from NT$400 to NT$1,450. Even the os­manthus flowers now cost NT$200. It is harder for us to do business now. We earn smaller profits though we are selling more."

Due to health problems, Li withdrew his investment in 1977, and died several years ago. Ou took over.

Although the Kung Yuan Hao offers both suan mei tang and ice cream, only the former is a year-round seller. Once nearby entrepreneurs, unwilling to let the "God of Wealth" particularly favor the Kung Yuan Hao, also began to offer sour plum tea in the summer. But the dif­ference was especially obvious on holi­days - long lines in front of the Kung Yuan Hao, while emptiness reigned at the other establishments. In a short time, the businesses which had tried to directly compete with the Kung Yuan Hao closed their doors.

"There are no secrets in our sour plum tea. The raw materials are the same for everyone," Ou admitted, then emphasized, "but we do hold to some special principles." The first is that they do not use saccharine, only a high-quality sugar. Second, they make their own sour plum syrup from the raw materials - never purchasing it from wholesale sources. Third, they insist on keeping item profits small and selling more. Most regular cus­tomers are students from National Taiwan University and the nearby First Girls' High School. "They come in groups," Ou said. "At times, they buy our suan mei tang by the bucket for school garden parties."

As for the main reason why the Kung Yuan Hao attracts so many customers, Ou answers with a question: "Which smells better - a soup made with one catty of pork or a soup made with ten catties of pork?"

Once every year, the Kung Yuan Hao purchases raw materials for use over a whole year. It orders 3,000 catties of the best and biggest plums at a cost of several hundred thousand New Taiwan dollars. Since the materials are bought in such large quantities, the prices are compara­tively low; consequently, Kung Yuan Hao is not stingy in using them. That is why its suon mei tang syrup smells so good.

On the third floor of the Kung Yuan Hao are one bag after another of dried plums, brown sugar, hawthorn, licorice, and osmanthus flowers. A gas Stove supports three huge stainless steel cooking pots, fragrant with piping hot, thick sour plum syrup. A white plastic bucket of already-cooked osmanthus flower nectar is moved to a corner - the flowers turning over and over in the hot liquid. These fragrant essences, prepared on the third floor of the establishment, are always available in quantity to meet the demand downstairs.

The best of the crop - natural ingredients for sour plum tea await their savory fate.

"Weather is an important factor in the course of our business day," Ou said. "If it rains and we do not prepare new syrup, it creates some problems for us, since the syrups keep their original flavors for only about five days, provided we don't add sugar or ice," he added.

From a huge container in the corner of the third- floor staircase, a pipe runs down to the first floor. Whenever the suan mei tang supply on the first floor is exhausted, the syrup (made of plum nectar, osmanthus flower nectar, and sugar) from the third floor is sent oozing down through the pipe. It is quite a time­ consuming affair.

Ou described one cautious old gentleman from the suburbs of Taipei, who marched directly to the third floor to monitor the process of making sour plum syrup. Satisfied, he bought several bottles of the concentrate.

"Hawthorn and dried plums are both aids to digestion. After a party, suan mei tang is a useful drink," Ou commented.

Historical traces glimmer in the Kung Yuan Hao. The building is old, the wooden staircase is old, and even the tables and chairs are old. Many of the personnel have been companions now for more than 20 years. All, male and female, get along very well; for them, the Kung Yuan Hao is a big-family experi­ence. It is not rare to see a waitress in a bright, formal gown-ready to go out for a night on the town - busily serving customers.

Supermarkets and restaurants offer their customers new varieties of summer drinks – seemingly - every few days. But the Kung Yuan Hao, guarding the gate of New Park, sells only suan mei tang made according to its time-honored recipe.

Of course, compared to today's TV commercials, Kung Yuan Hao's reliance on word-of-mouth publicity is obviously out-dated. Some Taipei residents may not be aware that the enterprise still exists. So many of the students who once called at the Kung Yuan Hao, carrying their book satchels, are now in their 30s or 40s - one wonders how many still remember the taste of an iced sour plum tea?

Popular

Latest