Liang fen looks like see-through, bouncy strips or cubes, and it’s soft, chewy, and smooth. Back in the day it was mostly made with sweet potato starch, kind of like Japanese kuzukiri. It’s coated in fragrant mian cha powder, and lots of old Taipei folks remember it as a classic childhood snack.

On Guiyang Street in Monga — Taipei’s very first street — the sound of a bell rang for half a century. Starting in 1960, the first “Liang Fen Bo,” Gu Mingxiong, pushed his stainless-steel cart through the alleys. With pure willpower, he stirred cheap sweet potato starch into amber liang fen as bouncy and smooth as Japanese kuzukiri, then coated it in rich, hand-roasted mian cha. It comforted the stomachs of so many old Wanhua locals. But all that hard work came at a price: the bones in his hands wasted away, and he got serious work injuries. Luckily, his daughter Gu Kailing couldn’t stand to let this old taste disappear. She quit her job to take over, putting up with the burning heat to keep her father’s handmade craft going. This cold bowl isn’t just a nearly lost Taiwanese wagashi — it’s a warm, never-give-up legacy that two generations of Monga carry in their bones.

When you walk into Liang Fen Bo, you’ll notice the old liang fen cart, which has a lot of stories behind it. It’s made of stainless steel and acrylic, and first-generation Grandpa Gu Mingxiong had it custom-made.