Some parts of a city are not captured on camera. They're remembered.
Not the well-known landmarks or bustling night markets that everyone goes to, but the ones you stumbled upon by chance before the city woke up. The hot steam coming off a soy milk pot. A radio playing something mellow behind the counter. Fried dough fritters sizzling golden in the fryer, wrapped in warm sesame flatbread. Worn-down stools of people who have been there before, who never needed to check the menu in the morning because they already knew what they wanted.
That's what a corner looks like at Yong An Soy Milk Shop. You brought it to life, piece by piece.
The Shop That Taipei Remembers
Yaowarat has its lanterns, Bukchon has its rooftops, Hipjiro has its neon lights.
Yong An has a weathered facade, opening up to a familiar counter made of exposed steel pipes. Bamboo steamers stacked neatly on the counter. Youtiao sizzling golden by the fryer. Small metal tables and red stools placed below tiled walls, with a glowing red sign board casting its warm glow across the street, as the neighborhood slowly wakes up.
It's not a destination you'd find in a travel guide. It's the kind of place that ends up tucked away in the memories of those who pass by.
Eight LED light strips bring the entire scene to life, from the inside out. When the lights are on, the shop glows the way it really is, warm and unhurried, all its own.
This is Not a Weekend Build
1,017 pieces. Fifteen to sixteen hours. Rated advanced.
Yong An Soy Milk Shop is built for the committed, the enthusiasts, those who will sit down to it all and savour every hour. It does not pretend to be easy. Every detail is cut out and precisely numbered, and the accompanying instruction sheet meticulously shows you each numbered piece, and which section it goes in. Nothing is going to surprise you and fool you and lead you down the wrong path. It's an involved, intricate affair, because getting every last detail right on a Taipei breakfast shop takes an involved, intricate set of instructions.
Yong An Soy Milk Shop takes patience to build, just like a good morning in Taipei.
What You're Actually Building
Each part of the build has its purpose.
Not only does this build look beautiful in pictures, but also when you try to put all those little pieces together one by one, you realize how much attention has been paid to it. There is not a single generic part, and nothing seems to be missing.
Another thing that makes the build so attractive is the lighting.
When you turn on the signboard, you can see how nicely the counter is lit up. Suddenly the whole build turns from a model into a place. This is probably what most builders mean when they say that the build is greater than the sum of its parts and all the effort and time paid off.
A Limited Edition Piece
Yong An Soy Milk Shop is a limited edition release. Once it sells out, it won't be coming back.
Which is good for collectors in a certain way. This isn't a kit you can decide upon, later. Later, it's already sold, sitting on someone else's shelf glowing quietly in their corner, while you're deciding what to get.
It's a sure thing for someone who has been building for a while, looking for a piece to mark a certain place, that's a strictly limited collector's kit based on a memory of a city.
Who This Is For
You already know this is you.
Perhaps you've built before, completed and immediately thought 'what's next?' and want something that'll challenge you, ask more of you, dive into greater detail, more depth, more of whatever it is that makes you feel that satisfying thrill when you've finished something truly complex.
Perhaps you're newer to building, but have always shied away from smaller projects, preferring to spend the extra time and effort to really build something that you can be proud of, that you can show off, that you can really put on display. This one rewards patience, rather than experience, and guides you through each step of the way, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Perhaps you know someone who falls into either of these categories. Perhaps they've mentioned places like Taiwan or Taipei, or that general feeling one gets in a city that moves just a little slower, but with just as much purpose, as the ones you're familiar with. Either way, a limited run kit, themed around precisely that, would be a tough present to top.
Wherever you're coming from, this one doesn't wait.
After the Last Piece
You step back. The lights are on. The glowing red sign board stands above the tiled walls. The counter glows. The steam from the bamboo baskets feels almost real.
You find yourself having built more than just a miniature, but the memory of a place most have passed by without stopping at.
That's worth something, and it's worth every single one of the 1,017 pieces it took.
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不只是一件紀念品：值得珍藏的禮物