Ritual of Return: A Cha Shao Story
Not everything needs to be reinvented. Some dishes — like memories — just come back when we need them most. Our Cha Shao has lived many lives, and its return is as comforting as a favorite family meal.
There’s something about drinking tea in a robe you should probably wash more often, in a creaky old rocking chair your grandma gave you — the one her friend remembered you loving as a kid. You sit there alone, but somehow, you’re not. The moment is stitched in memories: hand-me-downs, shared recipes and meals, the soft and soothing ritual of repetition. Even in solitude, we’re connected — by memory, by habit, by the strange comfort of doing something again and again. This is how I feel about bringing back the Cha Shao Bowl.
It started years ago, at one of our first pop-ups — a Taiwanese lunch inspired by Frances’ childhood. She led that one. We offered a Kabocha Congee bowl with various toppings, including Cha Shao stewed soy curls. It was a hit. People asked for more. We even sold it as jerky for a while. That memory still lingers: the joy of introducing something personal and watching that flavor ignite joy in others. Later, when our pop-ups moved to the Bottlehouse, tacos became our biggest draw. And the first taco we created? The Taipei. Built around those same soy curls.
I’ve said it before — Cleveland isn't always adventurous when it comes to food. So I find ways to frame things, wrap them in something familiar. Hence: tacos. A vehicle for experimentation disguised as affable comfort. That’s how fusion snuck in. And now, years later, I’ve made peace with that label.
The Taipei taco never made it big at the restaurant — the Bangkok taco has always reigned supreme. But I couldn’t let go of the Cha Shao. Or the ramen egg we created later, when ramen night became a thing and Frances perfected the “boiled” egg that had everyone swooning. Eventually, the ramen estivated — which is a lovely word for seasonal rest, and frankly, a state I’d like to enter myself. I remembered the Cha Shao. I remembered the egg. I remembered Gai Lan — with its contrasting textures and flavors — it’s my favorite green. So I brought them together in a bowl. It started as a weekly special. You loved it. It stayed.
Now, the bowl’s back. Like Backstreet. Say “back again” to any millennial and you’ll hear the tune — and possibly get a harmony in return. Same roots, but with a change: added crunchy lotus root made with that chili crisp recipe I love but haven’t had many chances to showcase lately. Why bring it back? Because you asked. Because I missed it. Because not everything has to be new to be meaningful. We don’t always need reinvention. Sometimes we need to return. Maybe that’s why I keep circling back to old favorites, to old chairs, to flavors that feel like home. Maybe I actually believe in reincarnation. At least when it comes to bowls.