The story behind Gua Bao: The Taiwanese street snack that’s taking the globe by storm

It’s a typical Thursday evening at Lan Jia Gua Bao, a humble spot in Taipei’s Gongguan district, where a line snakes out the door.

Inside, a server quickly replenishes two steaming baskets with the irresistible bites that everyone’s waiting for – soft steamed buns called bao. In no time, every last bun is gone.

The highlight of the restaurant’s limited menu is gua bao, a classic Taiwanese street food featuring braised pork, pickled vegetables, crushed peanuts, and coriander, all packed into a fluffy steamed bao shaped like a clam shell.

Only a few years ago, these tasty treats were mainly enjoyed by Taiwanese food lovers. But after making their debut in New York in 2009, they’ve exploded in popularity worldwide.

“Gua Bao is also known as hu yao ju, or tiger bite pig, because its shape resembles a tiger’s jaws biting into a pig,” says Jack Lan, owner of Lan Jia Gua Bao. “It’s traditionally eaten during Weiya, the final celebration of the year to honor the earth god,”

“Eating a gua bao symbolizes consuming all the bad luck and misdeeds of the past year, allowing you to start fresh in the new year,”

The rise of Gua Bao

Now nearly synonymous with bao itself, gua bao was hardly known outside of Asia until American chef David Chang introduced it to the menu of his Momofuku restaurant in 2004.

However, it wasn’t until 2009, when restaurateur Eddie Huang opened Baohaus in New York City, that the name “gua bao” truly made its mark in the United States.

Since then, it has spread globally as a food trend, even though it’s occasionally confused with hirata, the Japanese steamed buns.

The latest success story for gua bao comes from London.

“When we first launched in London, people often mistook our buns for hirata buns or the steamed buns from David Chang,” says Shing Tat Chung, who co-founded Bao London with Taiwanese partners Erchen Chang and Wai Ting Chung in 2014, speaking to Dinogo.

What started as a small six-seat gua bao bar at a London street food market has now expanded to four locations across the UK capital, with queues regularly forming outside.

“There were even discussions comparing hirata buns to gua bao,” Chung recalls. “But those debates are a thing of the past… now everyone just calls them BAO!”

According to Chung, part of the allure of the dish is its cultural association with prosperity, as its shape resembles a small white purse.

“To most Taiwanese, it may not be the star attraction at a food market – people tend to rush for fried chicken or oyster omelets,” Chung adds. “But it definitely has its own subtle appeal, perfect for lunch, after school, or as a late-night snack,”

Among the top spots for gua bao, Lan Jia Gua Bao stands out as a must-visit when in Taiwan.

The undisputed king of gua bao

The lively atmosphere at the restaurant is nearly as enticing as its food.

“Four people entering,” announces 60-year-old owner Lan, who keeps a constant flow of orders, encouragement, and lighthearted scolding. “Come on in, don’t be shy.”

“Two fatty gua bao. One without peanuts, one without coriander,” he continues. “Focus on your food, and stop fiddling with your phone. Or focus on your phone and forget about the food!”

The customers pause, put down their phones, and laugh.

Lan shares his story while managing the busy kitchen. About 30 years ago, after returning to Taiwan from South Africa, he found himself unemployed.

“My cousin told my mom, ‘Auntie, your gua bao is so delicious. Why not have your son sell them too?’ He helped me find a small hawker cart right across the street from here,”

“On my first day, I brought 50 gua bao with me and sold about 30. I was over the moon. Little did I know that I would be selling 3,000 gua bao today,” Lan recalls to Dinogo.

Known as the “king of gua bao” by local media, Lan Jia holds the title of the most popular gua bao shop in Taiwan.

“Even Eddie Huang visited my shop,” says Lan.

The perfect gua bao

Lan is a stickler for perfection when it comes to his family’s gua bao recipe.

“A perfect gua bao has to be flawless from the inside out. Let’s start with the bao – it needs to be soft and fluffy,” explains Lan.

He’s been sourcing his bao from the same supplier his mother relied on.

They get their pork fresh from the butcher, wok-fry it with garlic, shallots, sugar, soy sauce, and rice wine, then braise it for two hours.

“Our peanut powder comes from a 100-year-old shop in Taiwan that roasts and grinds its own peanuts. It’s pricier, but the aroma and flavor are incomparable,” Lan says.

Ham choy, or Hakka pickled mustard greens, are also braised and expertly seasoned.

Extra juice and sauce from the ingredients are carefully spooned off to ensure that the bao doesn’t become soggy when the filling is added.

Chung sums it up perfectly: “With the ideal gua bao, everything melds together – the tender braised pork belly meets the subtle crunch of fermented mustard greens and peanut powder. It’s a perfect balance of sweet, savory, and a tangy kick from the pickles all in one bite.”

Going global

Lan attributes the global appeal of gua bao to its similarities with other well-known international snacks.

“I believe gua bao is universally loved because it’s akin to a hamburger for Americans, a rou jia mo (a meat sandwich from Shaanxi, China) for Chinese, and a taco for Mexicans,” he explains. “But gua bao is a more refined version of a hamburger, as its fillings stay neatly inside.”

Chung points out other aspects that make the dish appealing.

“The bao’s texture is so incredibly soft, it’s almost irresistible, and the sweetness gives it an addictive quality,” says Chung.

“With a closed bao, the filling is steamed inside, limiting what can be added. The open bao format, however, offers more flexibility in what you can stuff it with.”

“It’s soft, sweet, and warm, yet it doesn’t feel as heavy as bread,” he adds.

Bao London offers six different types of bao at its stylish and minimalist bar restaurant. These include a vegetarian-friendly daikon radish option and one with fried ice cream flavored with Horlicks, a classic English malt drink.

Lan Jia serves just one type of gua bao – the classic – with a choice of five different meat options: fatty, lean, half-half, or a mix of more fatty or lean meat.

“It’s my first time here, and I love that they have so many meat options,” says Teresa Yu, a customer braving the Thursday night crowds. “Most gua bao shops don’t usually let you choose.”

Lan takes pride in the variety offered at his shop. “We can’t let customers wrap their own gua bao, but we make sure to prepare it just the way they want,” he says.

Local legend

He also takes pride in the strong bonds he’s built with many of his regular customers.

“After selling gua bao for three decades, the most memorable moments have been witnessing...”

“The sweetest customer was an elderly man who had been coming for years. He never noticed the queue outside. He’d always walk right up to me and say, ‘Boss, here I am again,’ and I’d let him in without hesitation,” recalls Lan.

“One day, he stopped showing up, and I was really upset. His daughter came by and told me she was here because her father had spoken highly of me,” Lan says.

“I thought maybe she was going to tell me her father left me some money, but of course, that didn’t happen,” Lan laughs.

Lan hopes his son will one day carry on the family legacy.

“Gua bao, to me, is a gift from my mother. I’m committed to making it famous and creating a 100-year-old gua bao brand,” says Lan.

Lan Jia Gua Bao, located at No. 3, Alley 8, Lane 316, Section 3, Luosifu Road, Zhongzheng District, Taipei City, Taiwan. Contact: +886 2 2368 2060

Bao London, situated at 53 Lexington St, London. Contact: +44 20 3019 2200