Sunlight streams in through the flowering cherry trees in the garden and falls on a bare wooden table, where a sprig of pinstripe ginger rests in elegant simplicity on a bamboo mat, compelling time to slow its forward march for a moment. A high-class dining experience is about to begin.

(left) Space with grace, red cherry trees. Hillside Garden, with its refined yet relaxed sense of enjoyment, is an excellent retreat from the harried harangue of everyday life.

Graceful ease

Stepping into Hillside Garden, the first thing that greets the eye is a raised stage, divided into four dining compartments by dark-hued Huizhou bamboo hangings from mainland China that let light filter in through the slats. The waiters and waitresses, attired in loose-fitting clothes of a single color, speak softly and tread slowly as they guide the visitors to their seats.

In our dining compartment, a blossom-laden prune tree planted in a big black urn shipped up from Puli towers taller than a man. Beneath the tree, slender candle flames flicker. The notes of Mountain Stream play on an ancient Chinese zither, as if in dialogue with the verdant hills and hollows outside. Stressed out visitors can't help but downshift into mellow mode as they soak in the aesthetic pleasure of the place. Indeed, they might find it hard to believe that before Hillside Garden opened, this very same property was home to karaoke cacophony and the "grab, hoot, and growl" of a greasy-spoon chicken eatery.

Most restaurateurs would consider it a waste to take a 4000-square-meter property and use just 500 square meters of it for a dozen or so two-meter-long rectangular tables. Proprietor Lin acknowledges that "you could fit in another ten tables, but then it wouldn't be my kind of space."

Even more unusual, this is probably the only restaurant in Taiwan without a counter at the door for people to pay their bill on the way out. Lin Ku-fang, dean of the Graduate Institute of Art at Fo Guang University, opines: "The atmosphere at Hillside Garden is connected with its graceful space, which comes from a proprietor with good taste."

As each course is served up, first-rate ingredients, creative cuisine, and a refined aesthetic sense elicit gasps of delight from diners. There's nothing to compare with the artistic pleasure of a meal at Hillside Garden.

"Growing" a restaurant

Fifty-year-old bachelor Lin Ping-hui hails from Ilan County, harbors a passion for tea ceremony, and has the distinct air of an ascetic. He deflects most questions about his past with a smile, and the aura of mystery about him only adds to the feeling that there is something special about Hillside Garden.

Before opening Hillside Garden eight years ago, Lin was in the interior decorating business, and looking for warehouse space. A friend helped him rent property that had previously been a free-range chicken eatery.

Lin's friends started dropping by to drink tea and chat. It was a relaxing and happy place that people were always reluctant to leave. Lin took up residence there, and eventually decided to run a restaurant with a focus on cultured creativity.

"I've always felt like I 'grew' Hillside Garden," enthuses Lin. It wasn't professionally designed, or even originally designed to be a restaurant. "A person does something creative to please himself, not to please others. A designer can make a design for you, but it can never be anything more than a design." Lin feels that this is the key to Hillside Garden's unique charm.

As each course is served up, first-rate ingredients, creative cuisine, and a refined aesthetic sense elicit gasps of delight from diners. There's nothing to compare with the artistic pleasure of a meal at Hillside Garden.

Haute cuisine, a la Taiwan

The arrangement of space at Hillside Garden is thus a reflection of the proprietor. The same applies to the food served there.

At Hillside Garden, the customer gets no menu and no choice. Lin decides what's for dinner, whipping up creations from the best that's available each day at the market. He just follows a few simple principles. All ingredients must be natural, and there is no use of heavy condiments or sharp flavors. The idea is to send customers away sated but not stuffed. And the proprietor's preferences rule. A gourmet lover, Lin says: "At Hillside Garden, we sell what I like to eat. It's my space, my food, my idea. That's the only way the place can have a coherent feel."

Our meal starts with chilled sashimi. Deep-sea bream skins and fresh shrimp in hollandaise are served over crushed ice on a powder-green platter, garnished with shredded India root. Pink peach blossoms are arrayed along the rim of the platter. There is thus more to the eating at Hillside Garden than just the eating; each platter is work of visual art in its own right.

The cherries are in full bloom this day, and Lin personally picks a few for us. Every bit as beautiful, however, is the delicate white meat of the bream, freshly steamed together with a garnish of cherry leaves. The final course is a sublime stew of lotus seed and chicken, simmered for three hours.

It is a 12-course meal in all, with seven main dishes plus several side dishes and dessert. There were several local specialties, including gao zha (deep-fried patties of ground pork and shrimp, a typical Ilan treat), xian gu mi gao (a Taiwanese paella), and Hakka-style broad rice noodles. The order of presentation calls for cool dishes first, followed by warm dishes, then hot soup, in steady progression to the meal's climax. After each course we are served tea, fruit vinegar-juice, and alcoholic drinks to wash away any aftertaste before we move on to the next course.

"On top of its basic Chinese 'substratum,' Taiwanese culture has much that is particular to Taiwan. And there's also been Japanese influence. In the food at Hillside Garden we see a highly refined blending of all three of these elements. The result is Taiwan-style high cuisine," says Lin Ku-fang. In his view, Hillside Garden represents a step forward for an island that up to now had not advanced to the point of high culture.

As each course is served up, first-rate ingredients, creative cuisine, and a refined aesthetic sense elicit gasps of delight from diners. There's nothing to compare with the artistic pleasure of a meal at Hillside Garden.

Flowers and flower pots

Working two shifts a day, taking in 100 diners per shift at NT$1200 or NT$850 per head, the restaurant must take in about NT$5 million per month. Wouldn't the profits go even higher if the restaurant established a chain and spread across Taiwan?

Lin Ku-fang argues, however, that a quantitative increase in culturally creative enterprise is not to be had by continually cloning off copies of one man's success story. The trick is for a legendary success in one place to inspire people elsewhere to create unique "Hillside Gardens" in new styles of their own that are both culturally rich and aesthetically pleasing .

Considering that a two-bit waste of beautiful mountain property like the chicken eatery can be transformed into a culturally refined place for enjoying tea and appreciating the beauty of the hills, you have to figure that our lives could be different from the present. I can't help thinking of Kyoto, where every teashop has an unmistakably Japanese air, yet reflects the unique sensibilities of its owner. The possibility of sparking such a development in Taiwan is where the real value of Hillside Garden lies.

As each course is served up, first-rate ingredients, creative cuisine, and a refined aesthetic sense elicit gasps of delight from diners. There's nothing to compare with the artistic pleasure of a meal at Hillside Garden.

As each course is served up, first-rate ingredients, creative cuisine, and a refined aesthetic sense elicit gasps of delight from diners. There's nothing to compare with the artistic pleasure of a meal at Hillside Garden.