You don’t just walk into MingFu — you stumble into it, like falling through a door into a room full of quietly kept secrets and loud, clattering teacups. On the surface, it’s another tight, fluorescent-lit canteen in Taipei’s aging urban sprawl — the kind of place with calligraphy scrolls on beige walls, peach-colored tablecloths, and chairs in need of retirement. But inside, it’s sacred ground. And on this particular day, the altar was a bubbling clay cauldron of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, served hot, rich, and unapologetically extravagant.
This dish isn’t dinner. It’s a time capsule, a ceremonial soup once reserved for imperial banquets. Ours arrived steaming, reverent — 4200 NTD of gelatinous sea cucumber, pig trotters, sharks fin, chicken innards, baby abalone, dried scallops, bamboo shoots, water chestnuts and bamboo shoots boiled for more than 5 hours. A combination so potent they could exorcise a mild flu or at least soften the edges of your next hangover. Each sip of the broth grew deeper, like aging Pu-erh or a good novel — earthy, complex, and quietly commanding.
The room was packed, mostly multigenerational locals, some in golf shirts, others in floral prints, all with that particular glint of anticipation you only see when a long-awaited meal finally lands. Tables were loud but grounded. Diners brought their own wine, poured each other tea, and most — like us — had either the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall or a whole chicken soup boiling away in a similar pot. It wasn’t special occasion dining. It was the occasion.
The rest of the dishes held their own. Oysters arrived slick with soy and garlic, fried just enough to remind you that raw seafood in Taiwan is still a religion. A plate of verdant stir-fried greens came glossy with oil and dotted with black beans and tiny anchovies — the kind of simple, umami-forward plate that ties a meal together without needing to speak above a whisper.
What made the whole experience sing was the service — not fussy, not over-eager. Just kind. They explained each dish, offered to pack up the leftovers in airtight plastic pots, and smiled like they knew you were lucky to be there — because we were. A group of four had bailed that morning, too hungover to make it before the kitchen shut at 2 p.m. That’s how we got in — by fate or by the spirits of the ancestors who might still haunt that broth (one staff member has been there for 47 years)
7000 NTD in total. Worth every cent. A meal like this doesn’t happen often — not because it’s hard to find, but because it requires time, patience, and a palate that doesn’t shy away from the unctuous or the strange.
⸻ Reservation for Buddha Jump Over the Wall required 1 week in advance Bring friends. Bring wine....
Read moreMing Fu Taiwanese Cuisine: A Refined Interpretation of Local Flavors in a Humble Alley
Tucked away in a quiet alley of Taipei’s Zhongshan District, Ming Fu Taiwanese Cuisine has earned a Michelin one-star distinction for consecutive years through its masterful execution of traditional techniques and subtle innovations. Behind its unassuming facade lies a deeply thoughtful rendition of Taiwanese cuisine—never ostentatious, yet meticulously precise and refined in every detail.
The chef embraces the core principles of Taiwanese flavor—clarity, lightness, freshness, and depth. The Braised Bamboo Shoots in Broth delicately elevates the natural sweetness of young shoots, showcasing fundamental technique. A more inventive creation, the Tuna Sausage, surprises with a harmonious blend of land and sea, balancing the umami of fish with the richness of fat. The Garlic-Fried Fish Maw transforms mullet stomach into a texture reminiscent of abalone, with garlic used sparingly to highlight rather than overpower. The Crispy Pork Intestines, often praised as the pinnacle of Taiwanese fried fare, are encased in a golden shell that locks in aroma and flavor—crispy, rich, and deeply satisfying.
Ming Fu’s mastery of doneness is evident in the Blushing Pork Liver, seared to a tender rosy hue with a splash of Kaoliang wine to impart a distinct wok aroma. The Sesame Oil Kidney and Chicken Testicles, a traditional tonic dish, showcases delicate knife work and precise timing to achieve a balance of texture and nourishment. Their expertise shines particularly in seafood: the Garlic Oysters, made with large, plump oysters, are flash-blanched with exacting precision to preserve their oceanic sweetness.
The pre-order-only Sticky Rice with Red Crab is a house signature, with rich crab roe flavor infused deeply into glutinous rice for a layered, savory experience. The Fried Rice with Mullet Roe, made with hand-ground roe, lends a quiet luxury to an otherwise humble dish. To close, the Clear Stewed Beef Brisket Soup demonstrates clarity both in appearance and flavor, a refined broth steeped in beef essence without heaviness.
Praised by Michelin inspectors as “near-perfect handmade cuisine,” Ming Fu elevates everyday flavors into an art form—not through showy technique, but through precise control of ingredient quality, cooking times, and seasoning ratios. Every bite feels like a contemporary footnote to the story of Taiwanese cuisine—worthy of a...
Read moreAfter reading good reviews and the past endorsement from Michelin, I made a reservation and had lunch here with my family today. I hate to say that this place is now subpar for how much they charge. They have two really good dishes: Rice chicken soup and Buddha jumping over the wall. Those are amazing but expensive. The rest of their menu is just an overpriced, mediocre selection. The famous crab sticky rice is just awful. The sticky rice was cold and tasteless, and the crab wasn't fresh. The oyster dish is plain and no better than some random quick stir fry spot that charges ~$80 NTD for the same thing. I am very...
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