2025 Vol 04 Taitung Times

If time is often the enemy of fresh fruit, the sun has long been an ally. With high UV exposure and clear skies following the rainy season, families across the East Rift Valley and coastal plains have sun-dried fruits as a way to preserve sweetness for less productive months. Dried pineapple is perhaps the most iconic of these sun-preserved goods. Sliced thin and laid on bamboo racks, the fruit slowly transforms under the sun's rays, concentrating its sugars and intensifying its tangy flavor.

The practice stretches back generations. In indigenous Amis communities, wild bananas and guavas were dried in similar ways, often layered with fragrant leaves or bundled in woven baskets for long fishing trips. These foods not only traveled well but provided energy on long coastal journeys.

Today, valencia oranges, mango, roselle, lemon, longan and even dragonfruit have joined the roster of popular dried snacks, now exported or sold in boutique Taitung shops and used as ingredients in creative dishes nurtured and promoted by Taitung’s Slow Food network and the DONDON STYLE (東東市) curated local product selection, storytelling and sales platform. As part of a no-waste, slow economy movement supported by initiatives such as the Japanese boutique MUJI’s “Found Market,” dried citrus fruits—like the Valencia oranges grown in Chenggong and Donghe—have found their way onto shelves, with the sun-dried Valencia orange slices sold next to orange and apple jams and red oolong biscuits with orange fillings.

When Hakka settlers arrived in Taitung in the 1800s, they brought with them a culinary tradition rooted in thrift, resilience, and fermentation. Along the fertile volcanic soils of Luye, where pineapples flourish under the sun, Hakka families developed a unique way to preserve surplus harvests—not by cooking them into jam, but by fermenting them into a bittersweet preserve.

Hakka-style fermented pineapple (鳳梨醬) is made by combining chopped pineapple with salt, sugar, rice wine, and bean koji (豆麴) to ferment for several months. The bacteria on the koji brings about the fermentation process. The result is a sour, salty, sweet, and savory chunky condiment used in everyday cooking—steamed over fish, stirred into bitter melon soup, or tossed into stir-fries. Each household often customizes their version with liquorice or herbs, making every jar a reflection of local taste and identity.

Originally, this method helped farming families stretch the summer’s bounty into the leaner months. While the tradition had faded in recent decades, a revival is underway thanks, in part, to initiatives such as the Slow Food Taitung movement and community preservation workshops that bring together locals to slice, salt, and layer pineapples with bean koji, sealing them in jars for fermentation—just as their ancestors once did.

Fermented pineapple is more than a condiment. It’s a cultural time capsule—bridging seasons, generations, and histories. In a region where the sun ripens fruit quickly and time can easily spoil it, this simple but complex preserve is a reminder that with care and creativity, nothing needs to go to waste.  

Among Taitung's most celebrated fruits is the sugar apple—a creamy, custard-like delicacy widely cultivated in Beinan, Taimali and Luye. Taitung produces both the soft, squidgy Damu variety and the firmer atemoya.

Exports—primarily to China—brought prosperity to local farmers in the 2000s. However, recent years have brought mounting challenges. Typhoons, increasingly intense due to climate change, frequently damage crops that spoil quickly in heavy rain and under hot Foehn winds as well as ongoing quality control issues such as excessive mealybug residue. In 2021, China abruptly suspended imports of Taiwanese sugar apples, leaving farmers with a glut of unsellable “green gems” and causing significant economic losses.

As past generations turned to preservation during times of hardship, today’s growers are also adapting. While government agencies continue to explore alternative markets both domestically and abroad, some producers have begun harvesting early in anticipation of storms. Additionally, by collaborating with the Taitung County Government, Taitung County Farmers’ Association, research institutes, and food export companies, they are transforming the fruit into value-added products such as dried atemoya slices—which retain their moist, fragrant sweetness and can be stored for up to a year.

Sugar apples are also made into jams, jelly snacks, cake fillings, candies, ice creams and fruit wines and sold in local tourist boutiques, high-end restaurants, and increasingly across East and Southeast Asia. Innovative brands like Spring Wind Fruit Farm (春風果園) in Beinan have even developed atemoya sparkling drinks and atemoya noodles. These efforts not only diversify incomes and reduce food waste but also introduce this unique fruit to a broader audience.  

Taitung’s abundance of fruit has long inspired indigenous communities and small-scale producers to craft fermented beverages that reflect both seasonal rhythms and ancestral knowledge. These traditional methods—using wild yeasts, minimal additives, and slow fermentation—transform fresh fruit into rich wines, vinegars, and flavor concentrates, preserving not just ingredients, but memory, culture, and place.

Plum wine is one of the most common and beloved homemade ferments across Taitung. Families typically gather unripe green plums in spring, layering them in jars with rock sugar and local rice wine or spirits. Over the course of several months, the fruit softens and releases its sharp, floral aroma into the liquor, creating a tangy-sweet drink enjoyed both at family gatherings and on hot summer evenings. Different households have their own methods—some add licorice, perilla leaves, or chili to give it a regional twist. As a result, plum wine in Taitung is not only a drink but a symbol of home and heritage.

Alongside wine, plum vinegar is a widely used functional food, known for its digestive and cooling properties. Made by fermenting plums with black sugar and water in clay jars, this tart concentrate is typically diluted and drunk before meals or added to salad dressings and marinades. Both plum wine and vinegar are commonly found at local farmers’ markets, agricultural co-ops, and slow food fairs—often handmade, beautifully bottled, and labeled with the name of the household or community that made it. The Lujia Farm in Luye not only produces a range of plum, pineapple, atemoya, loquat and mulberry vinegars, but also has a tasting and experimentation salon, where you can learn the fruit vinegar crafting process yourself.  

Roselle—a crimson hibiscus flower—is another favorite for fermentation. Taitung farmers harvest the fleshy calyces in late autumn and use them to make a variety of preserves, including roselle vinegar, roselle wine, and dried or candied roselle. The vinegar is celebrated for its vibrant red color, tart floral flavor, and high antioxidant content. It is often blended with honey or sugar and served as a cooling drink during Taitung’s hot season. In recent years, roselle has also become a prized ingredient among bartenders and chefs, used in syrups, jams, and cocktails for its bright color and complexity. 

An emerging trend is for these local fruits to be transformed into bitters, infusions, liqueurs and garnishes that are fuelling the budding local cocktail bar scene, with Bar Cynic, Bar Kumori and Tatihi No Lalan adding a multiple layers of sophistication to the Taitung City nightlife while retelling the stories behind Taitung’s fruit through the art of mixology.  

Whether served as a celebratory toast or consumed as part of daily health rituals, these fruit-based ferments embody Taitung’s unique climate, creativity, and cultural intersections. They connect generations through shared methods, stories, and seasonal abundance—proving that fermentation is not just a technique, but a living tradition.  

The history of fruit preservation in Taitung mirrors that of its people, resourceful, adaptable and full of flavor. As global trade shifts and climate change introduces new uncertainties, preservation techniques—both ancient and evolving—offer a roadmap for resilience and sustainability.

Whether it’s a slice of sun-dried pineapple, fermented preserve infused into a soup, or a sip of atemoya wine, every preserved fruit product tells a story. Not just of soil and sunlight, but also of grandmothers, farmers, memory, innovation, and of a region that continues to nourish through change. Taitung’s fruits may be fleeting, but through preservation, their essence endures.

In the next edition of this series, we explore time-honored indigenous traditions of using grains such as rice and millet as fermentation starters in alcohol-making and as additional cooking flavors in Taitung cuisine. From sticky rice wines to millet brews to koji-rich byproducts from fermentation used in Taitung’s slow food cooking.