Read an excerpt from the Booker-shortlisted TAIWAN TRAVELOGUE!
Taiwan Travelogue is a bittersweet story of love between two women, nested in an artful exploration of language, history and power.
Taiwan Travelogue is shortlisted for the International Booker Prize 2026. Read an extract here:
The rich scent of spice engulfed us.
I’d heard that, though India was widely regarded as the birthplace of curry, there was in fact no dish called curry there. It was an umbrella term that English colonizers had coined to refer to all Indian dishes that used a large number of spices. As one idiom went, “the untended bud blossoms”; so-called curry was brought from colonized India to England; then, after Commodore Perry forced Japan to end its era of isolation, it was imported to Japan under the misnomer of yōshoku, Western food, and from there made its way to another colony—Taiwan.
The day following our return to Taichū, Chi-chan filled the dining table with curry dishes.
These were not the Japanese iterations of pork katsu cutlet curry or potato croquette curry, nor were they the Indian originals.
Chicken curry: a whole chicken and cubed potatoes stewed on low heat until they were tender and fluffy, then seasoned with curry powder, soy sauce, and black vinegar, then further simmered until the liquid was reduced to a chowder-like consistency.
Shrimp curry: shelled and gutted shrimp ground into a paste, mixed with potato starch and egg, shaped into shrimp balls, then steamed; water chestnuts and mushrooms sautéed in a separate frying pan; stock boiled from shrimp shells and seasoned with curry powder, turmeric, and salt. When topped with chopped scallion, it looked like a golden sea with a green archipelago drifting on top.
Fish curry: Spanish mackerel cut into strips, coated with egg and flour, then deep-fried; bamboo shoots, wood ear fungus, yellow daylily, carrots, and chili peppers julienned and seasoned with curry powder, pepper, brown sugar, soy sauce, and a pinch of vinegar, all of which was drizzled over the fried fish.
All were called curry, yet each was distinct. The chicken dish, with its substantial meat and potato, had a thickness somewhere between gravy and soup. The shrimp ball soup, meanwhile, contained a diverse array of textures. The fried curry fish had a particular sour-and-sweetness from the vegetable medley. None of it was strictly yōshoku, and of course it wasn’t Indian cuisine or Qīng-style Shina cooking, either. This was, quite simply, Taiwanese food.
“Did Aoyama-san not say so yourself? A dining table can hold the multitudes of oceans and continents. Mainland Japan gave birth to yōshoku, but the Island has its exclusive take on yōshoku as well.”
I was busy stuffing my mouth with chicken curry and white rice. I chewed hastily and swallowed. “Chi-chan, are you trying to imply something?”
“I am sure that your hometown Kyūshū is a wonderful place. But, to me, the Island is wonderful enough. I feel no need to travel far.”
“Is this a formal rejection of my invitation?”
A pause. “By this time next year, I will be married and living in Tōkyō. Therefore, while I am incredibly grateful for Aoyama-san’s kindness, I cannot feasibly travel to Kyūshū for fun.”
“What a distressing conclusion to draw.”
“I hope you can understand.”
“Ack, don’t be so formal.”
I put a chunk of fried fish in my mouth, then followed it with yet more white rice, gulping down all the words threatening to spill out of my mouth along with the food.
Chi-chan picked up her chopsticks and helped herself to some rice and potato.
“Aigh,” I sighed, “let’s talk about happier things.”
“Aoyama- san probably hasn’t heard of koa-á books, have you? Next time, I’ll bring the koa- á book of the ‘Song of a Dozen Dishes’ for you.”
“What’s the ‘Song of a Dozen Dishes’?”
“An Islander folk song. Koa-á books of these lyrics are written in Taiwanese Hokkien, and this one is a story about a woman hosting a banquet, creating her menu of twelve dishes, and serving the dishes to her guests. One of the dishes is curry chicken.”
“Oh, I didn’t expect curry chicken to make it into a folk song! It must be very popular.”
“The ‘midbanquet small dish’ and ‘finale small dish’ are taro dates and thousand-layer cake, respectively.”
“Both sweet?”
“Yes. Taro dates are made by rolling taro paste into date-sized chunks and deep-frying them. Thousand-layer cake is also called nine-layer cake on the Island, which is the Shina way of saying it—because koa-á actually originated in Xiàmén. It involves grinding white rice into a paste, adding brown sugar to half and confectioner’s sugar to the other half, then steaming them layer by layer, alternating between brown sugar and confectioner’s sugar. It is a dessert that looks as good as it tastes, with its pretty clear stripes.”
“That does sound delectable!”
“They are both Taiwanese banquet dishes. I will try to make arrangements.”
I tried my best to look happy and claimed that I was looking
forward to it.
She only smiled.
Taiwan Travelogue | Shortlisted for the International Booker Prize 2026
by Yáng Shuāng- zǐ
'With sumptuous food writing, laugh-out-loud dialogue and metafictional twists, this novel was impossible to put down. Taiwan Travelogue pulls off an incredible double act: it succeeds as both a delicious romance and an incisive postcolonial novel’
The International Booker Prize 2026 judges
