Night markets, and chicken parts

So, any discussion of tourism in Taiwan will not take long to arrive at Night Markets, which are fascinating for Americans, who aren't used to thinking of the streets as any place to be after dark. ("Whole families shopping at night!" is an indoor scene). Now, night markets can mean two different things. The first is large warehouses, like the one below, filled with stalls selling what-have-you, which are open at night (whether they are open during the day I don't know I didn't go to Burger King). Here's one now, this is the Shilin night market in NW Taipei:

But if you leave Taiwan thinking this is what night markets are (hard to do but I nearly did it by accident), you are missing the real treat. The real Night Market is a shopping district of the city where all the stores are open, in fact about 75% more open than during the day, and pushcarts of every description crowd every open space for block after block after block after block. No pictures of this phenomenon, again that pesky thing that all space above the ground level in Taiwan seems to be residential. I asked someone about it and he said, "Well, at this point, pretty much all of Taipei is a night market," idea being-- whole families shopping at night!
The other idea of the night market is to eat while you shop. Which is an occasion for another picture.

My criteria for street food are these:
1) Food must be cooked after I order it.
2) I must be able to see the food prepared.
3) Food must smell like food.
The real problem turns out not to be (1) or (2), but (3). Basically, any stall (or stall nearby a stall) that is selling tofu or meat balls will have a stench that means, "OK, I'm not actually hungry." That was how I was driven through 6 blocks of vendors to the table pictured. I stood there long enough to figure out what was going on, and decided I needed a picture, and decided I would feel better about taking a picture if I bought something, and decided I was hungry, because this place actually met all of (1-3). Basically, you make a pile of the meat you want in a bowl and select one of four treatments (don't ask me, I guessed), and they roast it up (again), season it, chop it up, and place it in a bag for you. So I got a chicken leg quarter and a skewer of tofu, and a nice picture, and went away happy.
Now, the thing about the picture is the relative amount of table space given to the various pieces. Leg quarters and feet getting equal space is arguably fair; after all, the chicken has two of each. But why, then, do the hearts, livers, and necks get the same space? Inscrutably Chinese.