Railway Bento: How a Single Spare Rib Turned a Long Journey into a Shared Taiwanese Memory

30-second overview: The Taiwan Railway (TR) bento was not first made into a "retro flavor" before being placed on the railway; it was first a solution for long-distance travel, and only later, through platform hawking, carriage sales, preservation technology, and the memories of generations of passengers, did it become a taste identified as Taiwanese. In 1914, merchants were already selling railway bentos on platforms; in 1956, the Express had no dining car, which catalyzed the prototype of the spare rib and vegetable rice; in 1961, the "fried first, then braised" method solved preservation issues and fixed the flavor many recognize. ¹

Figure: TR Bento Original Shop No. 1. Photo: Solomon203, CC BY-SA 4.0; Wikimedia Commons image page.

1. Before the train arrives, the bento appears on the platform

In 1914, taking a train from Taipei to Kaohsiung took about 10.5 hours. At that time, the train was not just a means of transporting people from north to south; it was also a narrow space where one had to solve the problem of eating along the way. Lecture materials compiled by the Academia Historica Taiwan Document and Archives indicate that in 1906, shops on the train already sent staff to sell meals. In 1909, station hawking included tobacco, alcohol, mandarins, and boiled eggs; by 1914, documents already recorded station bentos. ¹

Academic research places this origin in the long-distance dining needs after the full opening of the Cross-Island Railway: platform hawkers had to deliver a portable meal within the short time the train stopped. This beginning was not romantic, but it was precise—the journey was long, there were no reliable dining options on the train, and food had to be delivered quickly and withstand a journey without air conditioning. ²

Thus, the true protagonist of the railway bento is not the spare rib, but time. It transforms "how much longer do I have to sit" into "can this box hold up until the next station," and shrinks the scale of the railway as infrastructure into the steam one smells when opening the lid.

📝 Curator's Note: If we only write the TR bento as a list of spare ribs, braised eggs, and vegetable rice, we miss its most important cultural significance. It is a food tailored for a transportation system; the flavor is merely the edible trace left by the system.

2. Brief transactions on the platform later became TR's work

Railway bentos introduced to Taiwan during the Japanese colonial period carried the shadow of Japanese ekiben (station bento) culture, but upon landing in Taiwan, they quickly mixed with local railway distances, speeds, and commercial habits. Early bentos were not uniformly manufactured by a central kitchen, but contracted to private merchants who completed transactions on platforms, through carriage windows, and at the edges of markets. In the early post-war period, this model continued until 1951, when TR established the Catering Service Office, formally incorporating bentos into its own catering services. ^{1 3}

Exhibition materials from the National Taiwan Museum of Railways Preparatory Office remind us that railway dining was never just a rice box: dining cars, tea service, platform hawking, station restaurants, and accommodations were all part of the same mobile service system. The bento was the easiest part to take away, and thus the easiest way to condense the entire system into a single object. ⁴

StoryStudio's compilation indicates that starting in 1949, TR produced bentos in railway restaurants at stations such as Kaohsiung, Tainan, Taichung, Taipei, and Songshan, transporting them to carriages for sale. In 1960, the "Xiaoying" (Small Camp) department was established to further integrate bento sales. This transformation was not merely adding a dish, but turning scattered platform food into a fixed object passengers could anticipate. ⁵

📝 Curator's Note: "Brought from Japan, improved in Taiwan" is still too simplistic. A more precise statement is: the system, name, and some forms had Japanese origins, but what truly made it a Taiwanese daily routine was the post-war railway service, passenger purchasing power, and local tastes reworking it together.

The "Xiaoying" Department: Turning Individual Bentos into a Supply Line

The "Xiaoying" department, established in 1960, was important not because the name sounded like a small restaurant, but because it moved bento sales from scattered vending to a manageable supply line. Restaurants had to prepare ingredients, cook, box, and then deliver the bentos to trains and in-station sales points. What passengers saw was a box; behind it was the result of kitchens, transport, train attendants, and station staff synchronizing their efforts. ⁵

This also explains why railway bentos cannot be understood solely as "local specialties." While their flavors were indeed influenced by local tastes, they had to first obey the train schedule: being one minute late might mean missing a train. Leaving it for too long exposed preservation issues with the spare rib and rice. Standardization did not eliminate local differences; it first ensured that every box arrived at the correct time.

Figure: TR EMU1200 EMU passing through Yongjing Station in 2003. Photo: Kazehayashi, CC BY-SA 4.0; Wikimedia Commons image page. This image depicts the mobile scene the bento served, not a photo of the bento itself.

3. The Express without a dining car spawned a spare rib

In 1956, TR introduced the Express to shorten long-distance travel time between Taipei and Kaohsiung. However, it could not add a dining car. Research by Zeng Ling-yi,收录 in the Hua Yi Database, indicates that this limitation prompted Tao De-lin, manager of the Taichung Railway Restaurant, to introduce a spare rib and vegetable rice with Jiangsu-Zhejiang flavors, becoming the initial prototype of today's TR spare rib bento. ²

It was not a representative dish suddenly invented by a famous chef, but the answer left after speed, carriages, and dining services compromised with each other. Unable to rely on on-site cooking or require passengers to wait, the complete meal had to be compressed into a single box.

Most trains at the time lacked air conditioning; bentos left too long would easily "go sour"—research summaries explain in Taiwanese Hokkien that food oxidizes and spoils, emitting a sour stench. In 1961, Lin Huo-chai of the Taichung Railway Restaurant changed the original fried spare rib to "fried first, then braised," increasing the salt content so the food could better withstand the journey. This processing also changed the texture: the outer layer sought not only crispness but also to absorb the braising sauce, ensuring it still had flavor even if not eaten fresh from the kitchen. ²

This is the counter-intuitive aspect of the Taiwan railway bento: its most nostalgic flavor stems partly from the lack they had to face back then. No air conditioning, no dining car, no immediate heating—these were not just background conditions, but co-authors of the dish itself.

4. Vegetable rice is not white rice; the spare rib is not a standalone main course

The focus of early TR spare rib vegetable rice was not simply placing a piece of meat on white rice. Research summaries and historical compilations indicate that the spare rib vegetable rice gradually formed at the intersection of Jiangsu-Zhejiang flavors, preservation needs, and TR catering services. It was not a single recipe descending suddenly, but a meal repeatedly corrected by journey conditions. ^{1 2}

English reports also note that Taiwanese bentos often place protein, vegetables, pickles, and rice in the same box, differing from the common Japanese practice of separated cold bentos. The meat in the TR spare rib bento is marinated, coated with sweet potato starch, fried, and then stewed for about 20 minutes, allowing the meat to retain moisture even when cold. ⁶

This approach means the bento is not just "spare rib plus rice." The vegetable rice absorbs the soup; the braised egg and pickles provide saltiness and contrast; different foods in the box complete the tasks of preservation and texture together. It is a micro-system, allowing passengers to not need to find soup, vegetables, and a main course separately on the train.

5. Four transformations of the box

A round aluminum TR bento box in the collection of the National Taiwan Museum of History has the registration number 2010.019.1782, with dimensions of approximately 14.5 × 14.5 × 4.7 cm. Both the lid and the body are embossed with the TR Bureau emblem; the lid is also engraved with "Railway Public Property" and "Do Not Use Privately," reminding passengers to return it after finishing. ⁷

These words are like the cold, hard traces left by administrative management, yet they also preserve a specific scene: someone finished the meal on the train, holding an empty box, and had to decide whether to return it or take it away as a journey souvenir. The lunch box is not just the bento's shell; it leaves the tug-of-war between system and people in the act of "finishing."

Collection records note several shifts in packaging: from the 38th to the 58th year of the Republic of China (1949–1969), bentos mainly used disposable wooden chip boxes. In the 59th year (1970), they fully switched to aluminum boxes; later, due to passengers taking them away, difficulty in cleaning, and material concerns, they switched to polystyrene in the 68th year (1979). In the 92nd year (2003), complying with the ban on plastic lunch boxes, they switched back to paper and wooden chip materials. ⁷

Figure: TR Bento Original Shop No. 5, located on B1 of Taipei Station, shaped like an EMU1200 EMU. Photo: Solomon203, CC BY-SA 4.0; Wikimedia Commons image page.

The round stainless steel box was later reintroduced not just because it was durable. The round box, metal reflection, tote bag, and chopsticks together constituted proof of "I once rode that train." Packaging shifted from container to collectible; food shifted from a meal to a segment of time one could take away.

📝 Curator's Note: The "retro flavor" of the TR bento is not a permanently unchanged recipe sheet. It includes the replacement of wooden boxes, aluminum boxes, stainless steel boxes, and polystyrene boxes, as well as passengers' imagination of "that box from before." Flavor and container have always been mutually manufacturing memory.

6. In 2000, queuing to buy back a regret

In 2000, TR launched the "Taiwan Railway Retro Bento," putting the spare rib vegetable rice back into the round stainless steel box, with limited supply of 1,000 units. The next morning, official sales began, and all units sold out within twenty minutes; including subsequent pre-orders, the event sold approximately 90,000 units in total. ⁸ Academic research views this "retro innovation" as an important turning point where TR turned its own cultural memory into brand resources. ²

The key to this success lay not only in the flavor. For many who grew up in eras of material scarcity, the railway bento was once a food they could "smell but not afford." For others, it was a fixed scenery of New Year visits, returning home, studying, or first long journeys. When the round box reappeared, the act of buying was like making up for a childhood that had not been eaten.

Academic research places this turning point in the context of TR bento reform: the 2000 retro bento allowed TR to begin treating its own cultural memory as brand resources. In 2005, external professional Li Yu-hsia hosted the Taipei restaurant, incorporating Hakka flavors and forming a new dish direction. ²

The TR bento was later brought into the Taiwan-Japan Railway Culture Exhibition. The 2024 preview exhibition allowed retired manager Li Yu-hsia and retired foreman Huang Ming-zhu to share production experiences; the bento was introduced to Japanese audiences at the intersection of flavor memory and railway stories. ⁹ What it brought overseas was not an abstract Taiwan, but an experience of hot rice, braising sauce, and movement happening together.

📝 Curator's Note: What is most noteworthy is not that "everyone loves the retro flavor," but how a public service institution translates its work memory into a commodity. TR does not just sell a meal; it also sells a shared experience of "having moved together."

7. Not just Taipei's spare rib

English reports indicate that official TR bentos were once produced in Taipei, Taichung, Kaohsiung, Hualien, and Qidu; while the spare rib methods at each station were similar, regular customers still argued over which station's was the best. In 2012, TR even held a station competition, with Qidu Station winning, partly because the marinade added green onions. ⁶

The same report records that TR sells over 10 million bentos annually; in 2015, Taiwan also began hosting the Formosa Rail Bento Festival, allowing local bentos to be seen with more distinct local flavors. These numbers and events moved the bento from a railway附属 service to a food culture that can represent local areas and attract passengers to visit specifically. ⁶

The Chishang bento puts rice and rice fields into a wooden box; Fulong's bento is connected to coastal travel and cycling routes; Fenqihu places the bento into the mountain market of the Alishan Forest Railway. These local bentos borrow the grammar of the railway bento but do not need to replicate the same spare rib. ⁶

Thus, the railway bento can simultaneously be a state-owned railway standard service and a geographical mark co-written by local merchants and passengers. For passengers, "buying at which station" is as important as "what to eat." When the bento box opens, the route is still inside.

8. From lunch box to cultural field

The Taiwan Design Research Institute announced in 2026 the preliminary planning for the Fengshan Station Railway Bento Experience Hall, expecting to use century-old bento culture as the core, displaying ingredients, processes, catering division of labor, and artisan work; before the formal venue is completed, it will first use the "Bento All Right!" experience store as a preview. This is the planned future, not a completed museum. ¹⁰

This direction carries its risks: once culture becomes only retro packaging, the bento will become a souvenir without laborers. But if the purchasing, preparation, cooking, heat preservation, delivery, and platform sales are all explained clearly, the audience will see not just the spare rib, but a work system that allows passengers to eat on time.

In 2020, the National Taiwan Museum of Railways Preparatory Office once used images to record the bento dishes developed by TR's various railway restaurants and train service departments, using the economical spare rib bento and local flavor bentos as initial objects, further producing models to preserve railway food culture. ¹¹

The 2024 Taiwan-Japan preview exhibition and the 2025 "Japanese Style × Taiwanese Flavor" exchange exhibition placed the bento and literature, platform hawking, dining cars, tea service, and railway hotels in the same narrative; the latter exhibited 188 sets of objects, of which Taiwan provided 157 sets and Japan provided 31 sets. ^{4 9}

📝 Curator's Note: The best result of sending daily food into a museum is not to make it sacred, but to let people re-see the work they usually ignore. What is worth preserving in the railway bento is not just the flavor of the spare rib, but the technology that keeps a bento intact while moving.

9. Today's bento still follows the schedule

TR currently offers the service of reserving bentos with online ticket booking. Passengers can select after successful ticket booking, completing it before 17:00 the day before travel; bentos are only available for specified train numbers and delivery zones, delivered to designated seats by carriage service staff during travel. ¹² The current catering division page also shows that bento sales remain part of TR's catering services. ¹³

This set of rules is much quieter than platform hawking, yet it still retains the original essence of the railway bento: it is not a restaurant with a fixed address, but a mobile service that must synchronize with train numbers, zones, seats, and time.

Twelve boxes in the carriage: the bento also has a last-mile delivery

Carriage footage filmed in 2010 left an image of 12 boxes of TR bentos stacked inside the door of an EMU600 EMU. The boxes had not yet been opened by passengers, yet they already explained another side of bento service: it is not just "bought away" on the platform, but must first enter the carriage in units of boxes, then be distributed to passengers by service staff. ¹⁴

This scene is not contradictory to the platform hawking of early years. The former relied on people's shouts and hands reaching out of windows to complete transactions; the latter relies on cardboard boxes, carriage doors, seats, and delivery zones to complete delivery; technology changed, but the railway bento remains a work of putting food onto a moving vehicle.

Figure: 12 boxes of TR bentos stacked inside the EMC610 carriage of TR EMU600 EMU in 2010. Photo: Solomon203, CC BY-SA 3.0; Wikimedia Commons image page.

English reports estimate that TR bento prices mostly fall within the NT$50 to NT$100 range; this interval makes it both a commuter's lunch and a ritual passengers specifically wait for on the train. Price, delivery, and seat arrangements are all part of "how a box of rice arrives on time while moving." ⁶

Japanese ekiben is an important reference, but Taiwan's railway bento did not stop at imitation. Japanese bentos often emphasize separation, cold food, and local specialties; Taiwanese bentos often place vegetables, meat, sauce, and rice in the same box, and the spare rib undergoes double processing of frying and braising. It once received foreign systems and technology, but had to re-operate in humid and hot climates, island distances, limited carriages, and different dietary habits. ⁶

10. Cutting the long journey into bite-sized pieces

Writing the TR bento as a "national memory" does not mean everyone remembers the same flavor. Some remember the steam when opening the box on the train; some remember platform hawking; some only received a spare rib when family returned home; some remember the lunch box had to be returned, never taking it home. The commonality of memory is often not that the content is exactly the same, but that everyone once waited for a meal while moving.

The history of the railway bento is not only the official version. In the 1994 Taiwan Provincial Council archives, one can still see cases where citizens petitioned to continue selling bentos on the platform at Fenglin Station on the Hualien-Taitung Line; this reminds us that after TR's institutionalization, private sales and local stations did not disappear immediately. ²

Thus, the bento can simultaneously be a state-owned service, a local business, passenger memory, and artisan technology. It once changed for speed, became salty due to preservation issues, switched back to the round box due to nostalgia, and grew different flavors due to locality.

The TR bento remains not because it is always the same, but because every generation can re-eat it into their own box while moving. The train sways, the rice is still hot, the spare rib's braising sauce stains the chopsticks, and the city outside the window has already changed stations; a meal tailored for a transportation system ultimately preserved the signal "I am going home" for many.

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