How to Make the Beloved Bento-Style Meal Thousands Enjoy in Taiwan Each Day
In Taiwan, where I live, one of the most beloved and novel features of our train system is the railway bento box. Known in Mandarin Chinese as biàn dang (便當), these boxed meals are sold exclusively at train stations or on the train itself, offering sustenance for tens of thousands of travelers daily. The lunch sets were originally inspired by Japanese bentos and first appeared in Taiwan during its Japanese colonial era in the early 20th century, when enterprising vendors sold them packed inside thin wooden boxes off of the train platforms. They became such a hit that in 1949, the Taiwan Railway Administration took matters into its own hands and started producing its own packaged meals.
Today, every morning at 6 a.m., about 28,000 bento boxes are prepared at six central kitchens, an impressive choreography that moves approximately 10 million bentos each year. Official vendors branded with a dark blue Taiwan Railway logo sell the bentos at the stations, and on the trains, cart-pushing attendants hand out the boxes to hungry travelers. Selling for a bit less than $3.50 USD, each bento is a neatly packaged meal filled with an assortment of rice, vegetables, and a choice of protein.
When my parents were young, railway bentos were served in round stainless steel boxes, which could be dropped off for reuse afterward. The railway would clean and reuse the boxes, though the metal boxes were eventually phased out for plastic because people kept forgetting to return them. Today, these train meals remain a nostalgic symbol of the Japanese era, and are still a regular part of modern society.
The composition of a railway bento meal is straightforward yet well-balanced. At its core is a generous serving of white short-grain rice: sticky, absorbent, and perfect for soaking up sauces. Alongside the rice, you’ll find a side of vegetables, typically steamed or lightly sautéed with minced garlic and a pinch of salt. There might be a braised egg or tofu as well, for heft. The centerpiece, however, is always the protein—sometimes chicken, fish, or tofu, but most often, it is a tender slab of fried and braised pork chop. Pork is a go-to protein for these boxes because it’s cheap and popular in Taiwan; at these central kitchens, roughly 15,000 pork chops are made each day.
Preparing the Pork: Why You Should Pound It Thin
Taiwanese bentos are well balanced in that there aren’t copious amounts of just one ingredient. Having a massive slab of pork would throw off the ratio, and you’d need a fork and a knife to eat it, which isn’t the best set-up when you’re sitting on a moving train or quickly wolfing down lunch while waiting on the platform. Bento box pork chops have to be thin and light enough to pick up with chopsticks. The key is getting a small three to four-ounce slab of boneless pork loin and pounding it thinly with a meat tenderizer or the back of your knife until it’s about half-inch thick. (I tried making this recipe with a thicker slab; it was clunky and difficult to eat, and I wouldn’t recommend it.)
How to Make Crisp, Juicy Pork Chops: Marinate, Dredge, and Fry
Because it’s a lunchbox staple that’s meant to travel, one of the most important elements of this dish is its durability. Accomplishing that is a multi-step process: First, you marinate the pork, then coat it with starch, fry it, and finally, braise it.
It might seem counterintuitive to braise something deep-fried, but because frying creates air pockets in the coating, there are plenty of nooks and crannies in the crisp coating for the sauce to cling onto. A similar technique is used for dishes like General Tso’s chicken and orange chicken, where the crisp, breaded exterior helps the sauce adhere better.
But here, the exterior isn’t so much crispy as it is spongy. When the pork is braised, the crispy exterior transforms into a tender surface that holds up well after hours of travel and still tastes good even when it’s at room temperature.
Admittedly, braised pork chops are often overcooked in Taiwan, so I recommend only deep-frying for about two minutes before finishing it off in the braising liquid. Most vendors deep-fry all the meat ahead of time, let it rest for an hour, and just plop it into the simmering braising liquid when it’s time to serve. This way, the meat is served hot.
The Braising Liquid
Usually, when I’m putting together a braising liquid for plain tofu and eggs, soy sauce makes up around 20% of the liquid. However, because the pork chop is already saturated with flavors from the marinade of soy sauce, rice wine, sugar, sesame oil, and white pepper, I dial down the soy sauce level to about 13%. This adjustment helps maintain a balanced flavor that’s savory without being overwhelming. The braising liquid is only for the breading, so the pork only really has to bathe in there for five to eight minutes for the coating to soak up the flavor. My recipe includes tangerine peel and Sichuan peppercorns as optional ingredients—while the pork chops are delicious without the spices, I find that they add a comforting warmth and depth.
A Bento That’s Uniquely Taiwanese
While the train bento may hail from Japan, it differs from Japanese-style bentos in several ways. Mostly, the ingredients in Japanese bentos are typically separated into individual compartments. Taiwanese bentos are layered: The rice, protein, and vegetables are on top of or directly next to one another. The flavors are also distinctly Taiwanese; proteins are almost always braised in soy sauce accented with sugar and star anise. Braised foods are a staple on the island—the cooking method is a cheap and efficient way to infuse flavor into meat, eggs, and tofu.
That said, there are also similarities between the two styles. Both maintain a balanced ratio of rice, greens, and protein. Most significantly, the rice is always a short-grain white rice, a variety introduced to Taiwan by Japanese colonists who spent a decade cultivating it. Its sticky, absorbent nature makes it perfect for soaking up the bold flavors of the braised pork and tender vegetables, be it eggplant, cabbage, or simple stir-fried greens.
Even if a trip to Taiwan isn’t in the cards, this recipe offers a taste of its unique railway culture. And it’s a dish that travels well, as proven by the tens of thousands of commuters who enjoy it every day.
In a large bowl, whisk soy sauce, rice wine, sugar, sesame oil, white pepper, five-spice powder, salt, garlic, and egg white to combine; set aside.
Place one pork chop on a clean cutting board and, using the ridged side of a meat mallet or blunt side of a Chinese cleaver, pound pork chops gently to 1/2-inch thickness. Set aside and repeat with remaining pork chops.
Add pork chops to the soy sauce mixture, massaging and tossing the pork to evenly coat with marinade. Cover tightly with plastic wrap or a lid and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or up to 8 hours.
When ready to cook, set a wire rack inside a rimmed baking sheet and line rack with a double layer of paper towels; set aside. Heat oil in a wok or medium-size Dutch oven over medium-high heat until oil reaches 350˚F (175˚C) on an instant-read or fryer thermometer.
In a wide, shallow dish, add sweet potato starch. Working with 1 pork chop at a time, dredge both sides in sweet potato starch, pressing gently to adhere. Gently shake off excess sweet potato starch and transfer to a large plate. Repeat with remaining chops.
Using tongs, add 2 pork chops to hot oil, gently sliding them in as close to the oil’s surface as possible to minimize splashing. Cook until pork is light golden brown, about 2 minutes, adjusting heat as needed to maintain an oil temperature of 350°F (175°C). Using tongs, transfer pork to prepared baking sheet. Using a skimmer or ladle, remove any leftover crumbs from oil. Repeat with the remaining pork chops.
In a medium pot, combine water, soy sauce, rice wine, sugar, ginger, garlic, scallions, star anise, tangerine or mandarin peel (if using), and Sichuan peppercorns (if using). Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat to low and allow liquid to slow to a gentle simmer. Using tongs, carefully add 2 deep-fried pork chops, handling gently to ensure breading does not fall off. Cover and simmer until the pork chop is fully cooked and registers 145˚F (63˚C) on an instant thermometer, 4 to 8 minutes. Gently remove chop and set aside. Repeat with the remaining pork chops. Serve with cooked white rice.
Special Equipment
Meat mallet or Chinese cleaver, wire rack, rimmed baking sheet, wok or Dutch oven, instant-read thermometer, tongs
Notes
Thick sweet potato starch can be purchased at most Chinese supermarkets. It is coarser than the finely ground kind, helping to create the right kind of crunchy coating on this pork; look for brands that specify between thick and thin sweet potato starch on the label to make sure you have the right type. If you can only find thin, you can use a spray bottle or your hands to lightly dampen the starch, then toss it with your hands so that it clumps up and creates small beads.
Make-Ahead and Storage
Thick sweet potato starch can be purchased at most Chinese supermarkets. It is coarser than the finely ground kind, helping to create the right kind of crunchy coating on this pork; look for brands that specify between thick and thin sweet potato starch on the label to make sure you have the right type. If you can only find thin, you can use a spray bottle or your hands to lightly dampen the starch, then toss it with your hands so that it clumps up and creates small beads.