TPAC Savor: The Art of Fine Dining — The Craft of Cuisine

Hsu Chao-Lin — Pushing the Boundaries of Vegetable Flavor: Creative Expression from Farm to Table
At the “TPAC Good Food Time” lecture, Little Tree Food’s Executive Chef Hsu Chao-Lin began by clarifying a common misconception: “I don’t think I’m cooking ‘vegetarian food’; there just happens to be no meat in my ingredients.” He opened by distinguishing between “vegetarian” and “plant-based” cuisine, introducing the audience to the concept of the “five pungent vegetables”—scallion, garlic, onion, chive, and leeks. "The flavors of the Five Pungent Spices are intense and stimulating, which can be considered a disturbance for those practicing religious vegetarianism." Hsu explained. Therefore, traditional vegetarian cooking deliberately removes these flavors." However, once these foundational aromatics are removed, a chef must rethink the very basis of flavor.
Hsu approached this question by returning to the basics of the “five tastes”: sour, sweet, bitter, salty, and umami. "People immediately recognize sour or salty tastes, but what exactly is umami? We always say something tastes 'very fresh and umami, but it is difficult to describe." He noted that umami is not an additional flavor layered on top of others, but rather the key that gives depth and dimensionality to the remaining four. Using a simple meat broth as an example, he explained that without contrast, the flavor can feel flat. Once pickled cabbages are added, the broth transforms into pickled cabbage pork soup: “Suddenly, you feel the layers of the soup open up.”
To help the audience understand the science behind umami, Hsu traced its history. In the early twentieth century, Japanese chemist Kikunae Ikeda isolated glutamic acid from kombu broth and proposed “umami” as a fifth basic taste, leading to the later development of monosodium glutamate (MSG). However, umami is not confined to seasonings alone; it is widely present in natural ingredients. Vegetables rich in glutamates—such as tomatoes, kelp, and mushrooms—provide a gentle, savory sweetness. Inosinates, commonly found in meat and fish, form the backbone of many broths, while guanylates, abundant in dried shiitake mushrooms and bonito flakes, are concentrated through drying and aging. When ingredients containing different umami compounds are combined, they create a synergistic effect, producing a level of savoriness far greater than any single component.
For Hsu, these scientific terms are not abstract theories but practical tools tested daily in the kitchen. “Some soups taste like nothing more than heated salt water because they lack a true umami structure,” he noted. When designing plant-based dishes, he considers umami sources and combinations from the outset—for instance, building a broth with tomatoes, kelp, and dried shiitake mushrooms, then using minimal seasoning to extend the finish. “That way, when you eat it, it doesn’t feel like you’re ‘just eating vegetables,’ but rather experiencing a complete flavor profile.”
Hsu then demonstrated his concept of flavor layering with his "All-Purpose Vegetable Umami Powder," breaking complex flavors down into a four-tier structure.
- The Vegetable Umami Layer: Using cauliflower and tomato powders to provide a clear, three-dimensional foundation.
- The "Mom's Kitchen" Aroma Layer: Utilizing garlic powder, onion powder, and smoked paprika to recreate the appetite-inducing aroma of a hot wok. "It’s that smell when you walk past a neighbor's door and suddenly feel hungry because someone is stir-frying," he laughed.
- The Herbal Spice Layer: Featuring thyme, marjoram, bay leaf, and pepper to give the aroma personality. “The spices we choose determine the character of a dish,” he said. Middle Eastern or Mediterranean profiles might lean on cumin, while softer outlines rely on gentler herbs. He also observed that Taiwanese audiences are particularly receptive to herbal notes: among perfumes and spirits, herbal profiles consistently perform best in the local market.
- The Depth and Finish Layer: Using juniper berries, fennel seeds, and a small amount of sea salt to gather and extend the previous aromas. "Juniper berries act as an extension, stretching the third layer’s flavor profile, adding a tail similar to longan or spirits."
Throughout the lecture, he returned to his core philosophy: placing plants at the center does not mean treating plant-based cooking as a process of subtraction.
Throughout the lecture, Hsu returned to one central idea: placing plants at the center does not mean treating plant-based cooking as a process of subtraction. “If we focus on what’s missing—meat—we’ll always feel like we’re compromising,” he said. “But if we focus on which vegetables and spices can fully realize flavor, the mindset shifts.” He concluded by reaffirming his core belief: “I don’t think I’m cooking plant-based food; I’m simply choosing plants as my ingredients.” For Hsu, plant-based cuisine is not a substitute for meat, but a way of rewriting the logic of flavor itself.

Ling Wei-Lien — The Philosophy of Flavor in Fine Dining: Rethinking the Perfect Steak
In the second session of the lecture series The Philosophy of Flavor in Fine Dining, A CUT’s Executive Chef Ling Wei-Lien opened with a frank statement: “What is a perfect steak? Everyone has a different answer.” This, he explained, is the essence of steak’s appeal—its perfection lies precisely in the absence of a single standard.
He began with the purchasing experience most consumers are familiar with. The vacuum-packed steaks found in supermarkets represent typical "wet aging. Some people prefer American beef for its sweetness and rich fat, while others find the meat flavor less pronounced than expected. He noted that acidic or milky notes in beef are directly related to the animal's diet, water source, and environment. "What it eats, what it drinks, and where it grows up all affect the flavor of the meat."
Ling then connected these differences to breed. Angus cattle, known for their even marbling and consistency, are the most common choice in restaurants. Retired black-and-white dairy cows, when aged, produce darker meat with deeper flavor. He recalled serving a 13-year-old cow whose meat was “refined, elegant, and long-lasting,” unlike American beef, which he described as immediately sweet on the palate. Akaushi, a Japanese breed known for its intense, full-bodied flavor, was once rare in Taiwan but is now accessible following the lifting of import restrictions on Japanese beef over 30 months old.
He devoted considerable attention to feeding methods. In his view, grass-fed and grain-fed beef are not a hierarchy of quality, but expressions of character. Grain-fed cattle undergo a finishing period that results in concentrated marbling and pronounced sweetness, while grass-fed cattle, due to diet and higher activity levels, yield firmer meat with a different textural profile.
Regarding Wagyu grading, he emphasized: "A5 is not necessarily the best." While visually stunning, its high fat content can be heavy on the palate. Ling personally prefers the balance of A3 or A4, noting, "A5 is too sweet and oily; I prefer meat with a lingering savory profile."
Explaining “aging”. Ling described how low temperatures over two weeks to three months allow enzymatic breakdown and moisture evaporation to create new flavors. During the lecture, he invited the audience to smell and compare two aged cuts of beef. The key variables in controlling aging, he explained, are time, temperature/humidity, and airflow. Given Taiwan’s high humidity, stronger air circulation is essential to prevent aging from turning into mere dehydration. When asked whether home refrigerators can be used for aging, he laughed: “That’s not aging—that’s air-drying.” Air-dried beef becomes brittle on the outside and lacks the aroma and texture of true aging.
What, then, is the limit of aging? Ling has experimented with dry-aging beef for up to 400 days. He described the flavor as “wild, extremely intense,” evoking associations with peated spirits. At the same time, structural changes inside the meat become more pronounced: enlarged air pockets and altered fat distribution. “Not every type of beef is suited to long-term aging,” he noted. It is a process that demands constant observation and experimentation.
Toward the end of the lecture, he returned to the subject of heat. Doneness, he stressed, is not about time, but perception. “You watch it, you listen to it, you smell it.” Once the meat hits the pan, the temperature drops rapidly, especially if surface moisture is present—hence the importance of thoroughly drying the steak before searing. He also emphasized tempering, clarifying that it does not mean placing meat near a heat source, but allowing it to return slowly to temperature in a cool, shaded room.
Resting, he added, is another essential technique. “After searing, it must rest,” he said, allowing heat to redistribute so the juices remain inside the meat. Resting time should roughly equal the time spent searing the first side. Proper ventilation and avoiding sealing the meat are his key principles.
What Ling ultimately presented was a combination of scientific sensitivity to flavor and the cook’s judgment. There is no absolute perfect steak—only chefs and diners who understand its character. This echoed his opening remark: “There is no standard for a perfect steak.” Flavor, in the end, always follows its own direction.
During the Q&A session, an audience member asked about the heavy butter basting often seen in Western cooking shows. Ling explained that butter undergoes a transformation when heated, producing nutty aromas that lend steak a distinctive character. In restaurants, they may also use beef tallow, olive oil, or canola oil, depending on the dish. Additional oil is only introduced when the pan lacks sufficient oil to maintain proper browning.
In closing, he and Hsu Chao-Lin shared common considerations in menu design: seasonality, origin, and supply stability. “The biggest fear is a shortage of ingredients,” Ling remarked. Only by understanding every variable can a chef decide how to construct a dish.
From plants to beef, the two chefs—working with very different ingredients—jointly revealed that flavor is never accidental. It is the result of understanding, choice, and accumulation. Whether rebuilding flavor logic through vegetables or exploring the boundaries of beef aging through scientific methods, the core of fine dining lies not in luxury, but in how chefs use technique and thought to redefine what “delicious” can mean.
