Question: What is the role of food and drink in Chinese culture and how might these serve as bridges to other cultures around the world?
Catherine K. Lin
The “discovery” of the New World triggered global movements of, among others, people, animals, diseases, and food crops, including the introduction of sweet potato, corn, potato, chili peppers, and peanuts into China. They came via maritime trade with the Spaniards or Portuguese, inland trade from India or Myanmar to Yunnan and Sichuan, and the Silk Road. The arrival of sweet potato during the decline of the Ming Dynasty is illustrative. At that time, China suffered from not only repeated extreme weather and crop failures, but also a shortage of silver – the obligatory tender of taxes that farmers could ill afford. Desperate coastal residents resorted to illicit foreign trade, meeting Spanish silver Galleons from South America, in Manila, to exchange smuggled silk and porcelain for bullion. Incidental to this exchange, sweet potato (and peanuts) reached Fujian and adapted well to the peripheral upland unsuited for rice cultivation. During the 1549 famine, Fujian’s governor publicly encouraged its planting to alleviate hunger. Corn reached Yunnan circa 1500 and became a widely diffused, high-nutrient, high-calorie staple, as it could be grown where rice could not. Potato arrived by the Silk Road in the early 1600s and spread throughout Gansu, Shaanxi, Shanxi on land that could not support wheat cultivation.
Yet, the chili pepper’s rapid dissemination throughout southwest China was not driven by caloric content nor ease of cultivation, but by favor. In Guizhou, where peasants could not afford salt due to high imperial tax, chili peppers became the predominant condiment. In Sichuan, the marriage of the native huajiao 花椒 with the immigrant pepper created the iconic mala 麻辣 flavor profile. Thus, peasants qua early adopters of New World food crops drove the evolution of local cuisine. Likewise, contemporary cookbooks show that sweet potato, potato, corn, and peanuts are firmly ensconced in basic home cooking 家常便饭, finding uses under traditional methods of preparation in every regional cuisine. If the introduction of New World crops into China underscores the profound impact of trade globalization, then their acceptance reveals a culinary culture that is open, assimilative, and bottom-up, dispelling the solipsism of the Ming and Qing Dynasties that China neither needs nor wants anything from the outside, while promoting the idea that China is both an exporter and importer of gastronomy.
Catherine K. Lin is the Founder and Head Cook of the Armchair Geographers’ Supper Club, a group dedicated to non-didactic environmental education through the development of bespoke dinners with annotated menus to spotlight biodiversity and climate change issues. Sample topics/dinners include bee pollination, light pollution, extinction and evolutionary anachronism, the Fibonacci Sequence in nature, and trophic cascade and habitat health. Prior to leaving private practice, Catherine specialized in comparative environmental law, representing Fortune 100 Companies on complex cross-border transactions and global supply chain compliance with chemicals and products regulations.
Zhang Longxi
This is a piece of Chinese wisdom from the 6th century BCE. The Duke of Qi 齊侯 thought harmony meant everyone was in agreement with him, but Yanzi 晏子, his wise advisor, told him otherwise. “Harmony is like making a soup. Water, fire, vinegar, minced meat, salt and plum are used to cook fish and meat with firewood. The cook mixes all the ingredients to reach the perfect flavor by adding what is not enough and reducing what is too much,” says Yanzi. “The relationship between the prince and his ministers is also like this. What the prince thinks is good may have something bad in it; the ministers tell him what is bad to make it good. What the prince thinks is bad may have something good in it; the ministers tell him what is good to eliminate the bad. Thus, governance will be peaceful with no trouble, and people will have no wish to fight over anything.” Yanzi did exactly what a cook does, adding something missing to the Duke’s inadequate understanding. In another passage, the Duke of Zheng 鄭侯 received similar advice: “To balance one thing with another is called harmony, so it can grow and produce results; if you add the same to the same, all will end – One sound does not make agreeable music, one color does not make a beautiful pattern, one flavor does not make delicious food, and one thing does not allow comparison.” The core idea here is that harmony, which leads to peace, equilibrium and balance, does not mean total agreement or the monotony of the same, but is unity with diversity, allowing the individuality of each member of the harmonious group. That idea should offer a useful model for relationships between different nations and cultures in our world today.
Food is universal and that is why it was often used by ancient Chinese philosophers to make their arguments. “All palates love the same flavor when it comes to taste,” says Mencius 孟子 when he argues that all human beings share the same sense of justice and reasonableness. “Therefore, principles and righteousness please our hearts just as meat pleases our palates.” Who doesn’t like good food? Let’s toast to peace and harmony for our world!
Zhang Longxi is the Chair Professor of Comparative Literature and Translation at the City University of Hong Kong. He is a leading scholar in East-West cross-cultural studies and is an elected foreign member of the Royal Swedish Academy of Letters, History and Antiquities, and also of Academia Europaea.
Bei Xu
Like coffee, tea (or cha) is one of the few universal words. Thanks to Fujian merchants who traded the commodity by sea with their Dutch peers, the Chinese word 茶 is translated as tea, thé, tee, te, etc., after its pronunciation in the Fujian dialect. Cha and chai are different phonetic transcriptions of the same character, as pronounced in mainstream Chinese dialects, and disseminated principally by continental routes. Unlike coffee, tea has the same geographic and etymological origin. Such a strong Chinese identity witnesses its unique role as a bridge between the Middle Kingdom and the rest of the world since the Tang dynasty. From tea swapped for horses with central Asian tribes to the first tea trees smuggled then planted in Darjeeling; from the magic powder sought by Japanese monks who perpetuated the art of matcha to the cup of tea adopted as part of Britishness, tea was not only a strategic good but also a cultural vehicle. At its height, on the eve of the first Opium War (1840), the beverage was estimated to account for 70% of China’s exports.
Although tea has taken root in different parts of the world, Chinese tea still has a role to play as a bridge. As the only country that mastered savoir faire over the whole spectrum of oxidation of tea leaves (from white to black via green and blue), China is also the only producer of yellow and pu erh teas. Her terroirs cannot be overlooked by any lover of good taste. More than an object of commercial exchange, tea creates social exchange. Tea is served to guests, tea is a gift, tea is a gathering excuse. Furthermore, tea ceremony – gongfu cha 功夫茶 – especially practiced in South China reflects a lifestyle and vision of a world of constantly creating and nurturing relationships. Unlike cha-no-yu – Japanese tea ceremony – rather than an individual spiritual quest, it highlights convivial tasteful sharing. It is everywhere for everyone, an integral part of everyday life; the setting is informal and the length flexible. The cup is so small (almost a sip) that participants ask for several rounds of service, forging links with the host and other participants via the warmth and the taste. All good reasons to have gongfu cha!
Bei Xu, PhD is a macroeconomist and a food and culture enthusiast. Born in China, she spent the past 20+ years immersed in French culture, while practicing and mastering economics. She taught at Dauphine University and Sciences Po Paris, worked at Natixis, Exane and Société Générale, and took part in building a culture-focused tea business.
Yong Chen
Since the mid-nineteenth century, as Chinese overseas immigration accelerated, Chinese food has ventured to different parts of the world. In Southeast Asia, home to large diasporic Chinese communities, Chinese food has long integrated with local culinary traditions to create hybrid cuisines. In Peru, where Chinese immigrants started to arrive in the nineteenth century, Chinese food blended with Peruvian cooking and emerged as a popular fusion cuisine known as chifa. We can appreciate the importance of Chinese food’s overseas development in three different ways. First, it played an important role in introducing Chinese culture in different parts of the world. Second, the creation of fusion Chinese reminds us that Chinese cuisine has never stopped evolving – a process that depends on interactions with culinary traditions of other cultures. Fusion Chinese cuisines also underline the transformation of Chinese communities in the diaspora. Third, Chinese food provided important employment opportunities for Chinese immigrants, and its popularity is a silent but powerful testimony to their tenacity and ingenuity. This is particularly evident in the United States.
The first large wave of Chinese immigration to America was triggered by the Gold Rush in California. Upon arrival, Chinese immigrants encountered strong xenophobia. As violent attacks on Chinese permeated the country, anti-Chinese legislation institutionalized racism at the municipal, state, and federal levels, and Chinese Americans were barred from many occupations. Cooking became an important source of employment for Chinese Americans, who made Chinese food the most popular cuisine in the United States despite significant obstacles. By the 1910s, Chinese food had spread across the country. As Sun Yat-sen noted, there is no American town without a Chinese restaurant. Today, there are around 50,000 Chinese restaurants in America, which is more than the number of McDonalds, Burger Kings, and KFCs combined, making Chinese food a vital part of Americana. For more than a century, Chinese food offered an important window into Chinese culture for millions of Americans. But the importance of Chinese food as a cross-cultural bridge is a complex story. Chinese food’s popularity never meant mainstream America’s acceptance of Chinese Americans or their culture. Rather, Chinese food represented America’s growing cosmopolitanism and became a part of a middle-class lifestyle. Dining out symbolized a modern lifestyle and Chinese restaurants helped to democratize this experience for all Americans.
Yong Chen is a Professor of History at the University of California, Irvine, where he also serves as Associate Dean in the School of Humanities. He is the author of Chinese San Francisco: A Transnational Community, 1850-1943 and Chop Suey, USA: The Story of Chinese Food in America. He co-curated “‘Have You Eaten Yet?’ The Chinese Restaurant in America” in the Atwater Kent Museum, Philadelphia, and the Museum of Chinese in the Americas, New York City. He serves as advisor for the exhibit “CHOA: Making the Chinese American Restaurant” in the Museum of Food and Drink in Brooklyn, New York (https://www.mofad.org/chowexhibition)
H-J Colston-Inge
Food and drink in China constitute much more than simply the component parts of a meal; rather they are a reflection of a traditional and deep-rooted culture of effusive Chinese hospitality – coupled with no small element of drama. Colour, smell, taste and texture are key ingredients, providing a sensual, creative and pleasurable feast for the senses as the composition vies for attention. When invited to dine out, expect an explosive experience from an array of hot and cold savoury dishes including fish, soup, meat, vegetables, noodles, tofu, nuts and spice. A fundamental part of the meal experience is the sharing of the food; this allows for a relaxed setting in which to find space for the binding of relationships, to build rapport and for decision making. Comprising large dishes to share rather than individual portions, the meal provides an opportunity for the host to show kindness, deference or intention to the guest. The drinking of alcohol is often reserved for the purposes of drinking a toast to ‘give face’ and honour to guests or to applaud a project. Not simply an empty word of “cheers!” the toast is more often a mini speech peppered with compliments. Be mindful of the definite etiquette of glass clinking to show humility and respect.
Chinese cuisine enjoys worldwide fame; even in far-flung locations outside China, the Chinese restaurant is a common sight. This, in itself, tells a story of the reach of the Chinese diaspora, of entrepreneurship, of building a life elsewhere and the tradition of hospitality. In a time of geopolitical tension Chinese food provides an access point to Chinese culture. I cannot recount the number of times over 30+ years that the kindness of strangers in China and the richness of their hospitality has moved me beyond words. From the rural backwater of Guiyang in 1990 sitting on the back of a stranger’s push-bike with live chickens hanging off the handlebars ready to go and enjoying a family meal to the downtown Shanghai luxury apartment with 15 dishes or more spread out before me. What better way to enter into meaningful, non-confrontational dialogue than through the intimacy of a meal allowing the conversation to develop into something as richly flavoured as the food itself? I encourage you to see for yourself.
H-J Colston-Inge is a Mandarin speaker with a vision to build China literacy from the boardroom to the classroom. Joint CEO of Chopsticks Club, a China-UK professionals’ network established in 1993, she is also Director of Engage with China, an educational charity building global awareness in primary and secondary schools in the UK through the case study of China.
Douglas A. Jaffe
The concept of breaking bread has roots in deep antiquity and has brought people together in fellowship and shared community for millennia. For a student first traveling to Taiwan in 1995 and later China in 1999, food was an intimidating experience that soon became a vital cultural bridge and later, a lifelong passion. Various dishes eaten in China, Taiwan, Hong Kong and Singapore exposed me to the rich diversity of Chinese food and demystified a culture that for many in the West remains inaccessible and frightening. An inability to enjoy Chinese or Western cuisine amplifies a dangerous sense of “the other” and can lead to racial and cultural prejudice. Fortunately, my experience with Chinese food came relatively early and many dishes have become welcome additions to my food lexicon including commonplace examples like 刀削面, 香乾馬蘭頭, 餃子, 熏魚, 湖南蛋, or 螞蟻上樹. For those wanting a truly accessible experience, few things are more enjoyable than a lazy afternoon having dimsum 飲茶 with friends.
Sharing food brings people together but there is also a shared negative impact that is arguably of greater importance. As China gets more affluent, demand for food, especially animal protein, has soared and further strains a global ecosystem that is already suffering from consumption trends in developed economies. Reduced biodiversity, environmental degradation, pollution, and carbon emissions are unfortunate side effects of surging demand for food. One saving grace is the consumption and production of food provide rich areas for cooperation that pair the visceral enjoyment of sharing a good meal, with a common sense of responsibility towards the planet as a collective legacy. Shared stewardship must bring people together to find solutions with examples like regenerative agriculture a win-win option taking hold in both China and the West. The Chinese have wonderful idioms with food themes and two are worth highlighting: 僧多粥少 and 肉包子打狗, 有去無回. The first means too many monks and not enough porridge while the second says if you throw a meat bun at a dog there is no way to get it back. Apt analogies in this time of climate upheaval and wasted chances.