It’s all about warmth and old-school charm — scallion meat buns at Fengshan Stadium’s old stall are just NT$15 each

Text & Photos /Orange Dog Loves Sweets

Among the life memories from childhood to adulthood, there are some flavors that are hard to forget. They may not be particularly delicious, but they carry special meaning. Back in the days before I started elementary school, I used to live near the side entrance of Fengshan Stadium on Anning Street — my childhood memories are rooted in this neighborhood. There was a grocery store we always called the “black shop,” where we’d go as kids to buy bubblegum and red tea ice pops. Right around the corner on the alley was a noodle soup shop — our families were on good terms. For just NT$10, you could get a big portion. Back then, during major holidays, there would occasionally be old-school drive-in style outdoor movies projected onto cloth screens right on Anning Street, filling the whole street with people sitting to watch.

Though I still return to Fengshan every year for festivals, the streetscape of Anning Street hasn’t changed much over time. However, the lively community vibe has faded, and familiar shops have disappeared — what remains are mostly just a few long-time neighbors. But one thing that has endured is the scallion meat bun stall near Fengshan Stadium. It’s been around since my childhood, though its location has shifted slightly — it’s always been on the left side of the stadium. Every afternoon when the oil sizzles to life, a crowd naturally gathers.

If I remember correctly, the stall used to be dark and dirty. Probably because it didn’t look very hygienic, my family didn’t really let me go there to buy. Any time I did get one, it was like sneaking a treat — using spare change I’d asked Grandma for. Back then, each bun only cost NT$5 and was wrapped in newspaper, so it inevitably ended up a bit greasy. But to a kid like me, getting a warm scallion meat bun for a 5-dollar coin made for an awesome afternoon snack. Later on, I don’t really recall exactly when the stall became what it is today — more modern-looking — I almost thought it was a different vendor.

If you think about it, it’s been over twenty years since I first tasted one of these scallion meat buns (wow!!). Nowadays, almost every day at 2:45 PM (the opening time is kind of amusing), regulars start showing up to queue up. There’s no numbering system here. If there aren’t too many people, you can just tell the boss lady how many you want. But if it’s busy, you’ll need to line up. If you’re lucky and most people only order one or two, and the boss lady fries them quickly, you might only wait 5–10 minutes.

But if you’re super lucky and someone orders 30 or 40 at once, well, then you’ll just have to patiently scroll through your phone. It wasn’t always this busy, though. Most of the customers used to be local regulars. It only really took off after being featured on a food show. The buns are fried in lard — you’ll see the boss lady scoop a spoonful straight into the pan. Although it’s called frying...

there’s quite a lot of oil used, so it’s kind of half-fried. After frying, the buns are drained of excess oil. The pepper is added while frying. These days, they don’t wrap them in newspaper anymore — they come in clear plastic bags (I do miss the newspaper era, XD).

A plain scallion meat bun is NT$15, and with an egg it’s NT$20. In thirty years, the price has gone up only a tiny bit. And honestly, at a time when prices keep rising, that’s actually pretty affordable. Now that I live in Taichung near SOGO Department Store, even a single scallion pancake costs NT$25–30 there, and adding an egg makes it even pricier. That’s exactly why this old taste from Fengshan stays so deeply engraved in my memory.

The three dipping sauces at the stall have also been around since the old days: soy paste, chili sauce, and ketchup. These days, due to hygiene concerns, most places don’t use open sauces like this anymore, but this stall still keeps the tradition alive. Even though there are also bottles of sauce you can squeeze, I notice the regulars still love dipping their brushes in for a quick swipe.

[Signature Scallion Meat Bun / NT$15 / With Egg NT$20]
I think the buns used to be a bit smaller. Actually, the dough size is probably similar. The current ones are slightly bigger, but the overall texture hasn’t changed much — the boss lady has been making them since she was a kid, learning from her dad.

The frying method gives the outer crust a nice crispness, but the inside remains soft and chewy, like a traditional Chinese flatbread. The pork filling and chopped scallions are mixed into the dough before shaping, and the meat is pre-marinated. What sets this bun apart is probably the crispiness of the skin. Not far from Anning Street, there’s another scallion meat bun stall at the alley entrance, which is actually NT$5 cheaper than this old-school one. But their buns are just ordinary scallion pancakes — not crispy, soft and limp. No wonder there’s always a queue here as soon as it opens, while the other place gets sporadic crowds. It’s the little details that make all the difference.

The egg is sometimes fully cooked, sometimes just short of fully done. There’s no egg runoff, but when you bite in, it sometimes has a slightly dense texture. I like brushing it with chili sauce — that thin layer of spicy flavor clinging to the bun’s surface. No matter how many years go by, it still hits the spot. As for their ketchup, it tastes different from the ketchup we get today. It’s worth a try if you’re curious.

The meat filling isn’t overly generous, but the amount of scallions is decent — just enough to add texture. Since a good amount of lard is used in frying, it’s fairly oily. I still love it, but it depends on personal tolerance. In terms of filling and scallion ratio, the scallion meat bun stall near Zhongshan Hall in Zuoying edges out just a bit. But the bun crust? This one in Fengshan wins hands down.

After eating this for so many years, I suddenly felt like documenting it — maybe because I recently had a 60-year-old ice cream shop in Taichung announce that it’s shutting down. The owner passed away a few years ago, but the boss lady kept going, preserving that old-school handmade taste. Maybe she’s tired now too, but it’s just sad to see yet another piece of Taiwan’s culinary heritage disappear. Not to mention the nearby once-iconic East Asia Theater has also been torn down. That was the most popular spot in my childhood — every screening of Momotaro or Report to the Squad Leader was packed, with people even sitting in the aisles. It feels like there’s less and less to remember and cherish in this old neighborhood. So this time, back in Fengshan, when I saw this stall, I couldn’t help but document it. I’m not one of the boss lady’s longtime regulars, but seeing her chat with familiar faces while she works, and seeing customers lend a hand when she’s busy…

Affordable pricing, decades of selling warmth and the charm of old-school nostalgia. If you’re interested, be sure to swing by during the afternoon opening hours and join the queue.

Fengshan Stadium Old Stall Scallion Meat Buns
Address: Opposite No. 118, Anning Street, Fengshan District, Kaohsiung (left side entrance of Fengshan Stadium)
Business Hours: 2:45 PM – until sold out (usually before 6:00 PM)
Reminder: Closed on the 2nd and 4th Sundays of each month
Nearby MRT Station: Exit 2 of MRT Orange Line Fengshan Station (about a 15-minute walk)

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