Shortly after I started my job in Seattle, the creative director started talking about making a trip out to a Taiwanese restaurant where I and the other new guys had to try Stinky Tofu, a dish which has been described as “a violation of the geneva conventions,” and which has gotten street vendors in Taiwan fined for breaking air pollution laws.
For weeks, he would regal us with stories about Stinky Tofu. The odor was so strong that you wouldn’t be able to smell or taste anything else for the rest of the day after eating it. It was so foul-tasting that most people could only choke down a single bite. We heard that the waiters would laugh when you ordered it, and then watch eagerly as the stupid foreigners tried to eat it. He seemed to relish building the anticipation with each description of its paint-peeling powers. He took great pride in his multicultural heritage, and he assured us this was the worst thing he had ever tasted from any nationality.
Finally one day we all piled in the car and drove to this utterly unremarkable Taiwanese restaurant. The paint was, in fact, peeling, and there were faded paintings hung on the walls. The main dining room was pretty small, about six tables, and completely deserted. On one table in the corner, an older man in an apron was rolling dumplings and watching a Taiwanese news channel.
Our waiter was a younger guy, who did seem to be amused as the creative director took great delight in ordering a plate of Stinky Tofu for the table. The rest of us took our turns ordering our food, and then waited. There were two of us who were going to be trying it for the first time. My cohort looked worried.
When the plate arrived, it looked pretty much like the photo, but with six pieces instead of three. Each piece was bite-sized, and covered in a sickly-looking sauce. The smell was pungent. It wasn’t as horrific as it had been described, but it was certainly unpleasant. The creative director was grinning from ear to ear as he watched me and my fellow newbie eye the plate suspiciously.
There was only one thing to do. I grabbed my chopsticks, picked up one of the pieces and ate it. It was squishy, almost a little rubbery, and the taste was powerfully bad. But all you have to do is chew for a second and then swallow, and it’s all over. The taste lingered, but not enough to really sour the whole meal. It was very much like eating something really spicy on a dare. The only thing you can do is sit there and act like there’s no problem as the chili burns a hole in your esophagus.
He looked disappointed when I didn’t jump out of my seat or spit it back out onto my plate. He asked me how it was, and I told him that it wasn’t that bad – probably the second or third worst thing I’d ever tasted.
My companion had watched me with dismay, and now it was his turn. He picked up his piece and tried to take a little bite out of it. This was probably the worst thing he could have done. Not only did he look timid, but he now had the stinky tofu sauce all over his lips, and he was going to be tasting it for the whole day. He would have been better off jumping into the deep end and taking the whole bite.
He gave the creative director the show he’d been waiting for. Coughing and practically choking, gulping down water and eating other things to get the taste out of his mouth. The creative director looked overjoyed at his suffering. After that, the plate made its way around the table, and most of the rest of the group also had a piece, agreeing that it was as bad as they remembered.
As we drove back to the office, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself for playing it so cool. Admittedly, it was pretty bad, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been hyped up. So you can imagine my frustration when we got back to the office and I heard him telling to story to another coworker:
“So the plate came, and Scott took a piece and just ate it like it was nothing! It was pretty cool, but I think they gave us the white people version, because it was way stronger last time I had it.”
Edit: I originally wrote that we went to a Korean restaurant. I have since been repeatedly informed that Stinky Tofu is Taiwanese. Sorry about the mix-up.
