At 4:00 a.m., the fish ponds in Qigu are still pitch black. Fishermen in rubber boots open the sluice gates, and the milkfish schools surge forward at the sound of rushing water. Milkfish cannot tolerate cold; in winter, heating equipment must be installed, and in summer, the harvest season begins before dawn. If the fish aren't harvested, the congee stalls in downtown Tainan will be forced to close for the morning. This supply chain, stretching from Qigu to Guohua Street, has been running its first shift for over three centuries.
This fish has nothing to do with Zheng Chenggong.
The Most Beautiful Story, and the Least Accurate
Folklore claims that when Zheng Chenggong arrived in Taiwan, his army faced a food shortage. Spotting a certain fish on the shores of Anping, he asked his attendants, "What fish is this?" The Taiwanese pronunciation of "what" allegedly mutated into "milkfish" (shīmù), and the fish's name was thus fixed.
This tale circulates at temple entrances, in textbooks, and on tourist brochures. It is evocative, visual, and easy to remember. Yet historians have long pointed out the flaw: the Dutch East India Company introduced milkfish aquaculture techniques to Taiwan from Indonesia during the Dutch colonial period (1624–1662), at least thirty-seven years before Zheng Chenggong arrived in 1661. Written records of milkfish farming already appear in the late-17th-century Records of the Prefecture of Taiwan (1694), with the earliest farming sites located around the Lukangmen area—present-day Anping District. That is over four centuries of history.
📝 Curator's Note: The legend that "Zheng Chenggong brought the milkfish" illustrates a single point: a good story outlives historical evidence by far. The Dutch brought the aquaculture techniques, but Zheng Chenggong took the naming rights.
Qigu: The Geography of Fish Ponds
Today, Tainan remains the island's largest milkfish-producing region, accounting for roughly 50% of the national annual output. The core lies in Qigu District—over 4,500 hectares of aquaculture area and more than 6,000 fish ponds, the highest in the country.
Qigu's topography is key: the coastal terrain is flat with a muddy substrate and moderate salinity, making it a natural fit for fish ponds. It is about a forty-minute drive from downtown Tainan, but there, the roads are flanked by continuous stretches of water, egrets stand on the levees, and the Taiwan Strait lies in the distance.
The straight-line distance from Anping to the congee stalls on Guohua Street is no more than fifteen kilometers. Even factoring in Qigu, it does not exceed forty kilometers. This short-distance supply chain forms the material foundation for why Tainan's milkfish breakfasts are both affordable and fresh.
📝 Curator's Note: Qigu does more than just farm milkfish; it is also one of the most critical wintering grounds for the black-faced spoonbill globally. The ecological imperative to protect wetlands and the economic interests of fisheries have been in long-term tension here—fish ponds are not merely the starting point for food, but also a theater of ecological politics.
The Anatomy of a Whole Fish
Tainan locals eat milkfish without wasting a single part. This is a relic of the dockworker breakfast logic: every part has its proper destination.
The belly (abdomen) holds the most fat, making it ideal for dry-frying; the skin turns crisp while the flesh stays soft, offering two textures in a single bite. The fillet (back meat) is best for congee: fresh, sweet, and bouncy, with a clean aroma that doesn't overpower other flavors. The skin is rich in collagen, making it perfect for soup; drinking it leaves your lips slightly sticky—that is natural collagen, not an additive. The intestines, deep-fried until crisp and crackling, demand extreme freshness and are the hardest preparation to replicate outside the region. The head is braised or red-cooked, rich in gelatin and meant to be savored slowly. Seasonal roe, whether pan-fried or pickled in sauce, is a delicacy known only to regulars.
Every cut is precise because every part deserves to be treated individually.
📝 Curator's Note: The milkfish culture of "separate-part consumption" is fundamentally a zero-waste worker diet logic. When ordering at a Tainan congee stall, you are selecting not just ingredients, but different interpretations of a single fish. Tourists order the "assorted" platter; regulars have clear preferences.
White Congee at 5:00 a.m.
At 5:30 a.m., the congee stall blanches each part separately, portions them into individual small dishes, and brings them to the table for customers to add to their plain white congee themselves.
This self-serve system is not a culinary gimmick; it is efficiency. Dockworkers eating breakfast have no time to wait for a chef to decide what goes in your bowl. The ingredients are laid out; you know yourself what you need to replenish and what to avoid today. If physical labor was heavy, you add extra fish intestines. If you drank too much the night before, you stick to plain congee with fish skin soup.
The farming logic from three centuries ago still lives in the rhythm of this morning.
The Name Remains an Open Case
How exactly the name "milkfish" originated remains unresolved in academia.
Some argue it derives from a phonetic translation of Dutch or Malay; others trace it to the Taiwanese term "sè-bāng" (fine eyes), referring to the fish's densely speckled eye features. Still others believe local farming workers simply named it independently, and the Taiwanese term eventually standardized it.
The story of Zheng Chenggong asking "what fish" remains the most widely circulated version. Sometimes, the easiest-to-remember story is not the most accurate one—but it ensures that the aquaculture industry from four centuries ago leaves a name on everyone's breakfast table.
References
- Milkfish — Wikipedia
- What Is the Origin of the Name "Milkfish" and Its Connection to Zheng Chenggong? — Food Next
- A Walking History of Tainan: Milkfish Enriched the Fish Ponds, and Also Enriched the Mornings and Stomachs of Prefecture City People — The News Lens
- Tainan Fish Soup and Milkfish May Originate from 17th-Century European Imports — CNA
- Viewing Taiwan Through the Milkfish (Part 1) — Journal of the Geographical Society of the Republic of China
- Working as a Fisherman in Qigu Fish Ponds, Tainan: Experiencing the Early Morning Harvest — Smile Taiwan
- Milkfish, Tilapia, and Grouper: Discover the Aquaculture That Brings Culinary Delights to Your Table! — PanSci
- Overview of Qigu District Industries — Qigu District Office, Tainan City
- Tainan Milkfish — Food and Agriculture Education Information Integration Platform (Ministry of Agriculture)