The Best Plastic Bag of Juice in Which to Pour Vodka
The Best Plastic Bag of Juice in Which to Pour Vodka
Mixers in Taiwan
Armed with nothing but a handful of cash from our various internships and a large bottle of vodka we picked up from 7-11, my friends and I embarked on a mission set in the Kenting Night Market in Taiwan: find out what night market drink makes the best mixer.
Taiwan is full of exotic fruits that I rarely eat in the United States: wax apples, dragon fruit, custard apples, and guavas filled the markets with their sweet smells. Vendors held out samples on toothpicks, calling out to and complimenting passersby. Some pick up on our chatter and yell out “Taiwan fruit! Sweeter than USA!.” We knew which fruits we liked from what our hosts and families fed us, but on a summer vacation whim we wanted to go a step further and figure out what fruits we liked best spiked.
The cold and fresh watermelon juice? Too watery. The market’s iconic papaya milk? Gross, which probably should have been obvious in retrospect. As we continued to try and mix various fresh juices and teas, we grew more and more discontent with the stream of perfectly fine beverages we were ruining and unhappily drinking out of guilt. That is, until we saw a vendor lift a bunch of tough and fiberous sugarcane stalks and put them through a loud machine that spit out juice, releasing the dense smell into the humid air.
Sugarcane thrives in the tropical weather of south Taiwan, despite not being a native crop. The country is filled with old sugar factories, remnants of the trade that became one of the countries biggest exports from the seventeenth century on. Nowadays, these factories are museums or “cultural parks” to house educational and artistic spaces. The old railroads that hauled stalks of sugarcane 3000 kilometers around the island in the twentieth century sit unused and abandoned, with a few still running as tourist attractions. Still, the abundance of sugar cane stalls in night markets have made them a reliable staple and reminder of an extensive history.
Our vodka, on the other hand, was nothing special. In my backpack was a moderately-sized bottle of Svedka that smelled like freshman year and a lack of restraint. Taiwanese drinking culture, or the lack thereof, meant it also smelled like disapproving looks from locals as we pulled out the Svedka and discretely poured some into the bag of juice. Luckily, we’re in Kenting, a popular destination for young people; judgement was minimal.
The combination makes the cheap vodka incredibly smooth and my friend, who’s working in environmental protection for the summer, explained to me that it’s common to make alcohol out of sugarcane in different parts of the world. I’m not entirely sure if this is a sufficient explanation, but we were thrilled at this new discovery. When we get back to Taipei, we tell everyone about this unexpected revelation, comparing it with the guy who accidentally invented Slurpees by forgetting soda in the freezer.