## Detailed walkthrough
### [00:00](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=0s) "White People Food" and Protecting the Means of Production
Dou Wentao kicks off the conversation by revealing what he has been eating for the past two days—a meal he is certain Teacher Chen recognizes. Popularly dubbed "white people food" (白人饭), though some critics deem the label mildly discriminatory, it has taken on pragmatic renames online like "physiological indicator maintenance meal" or simply the "won't-die meal" (生命体征维持餐). Wentao explains that his reliance on this bare-bones sustenance stems from an unfortunate biological reality: he puts on weight at terrifying speed. If he indulges in just one heavy dinner, his face instantly bloats in the mirror the very next morning from water retention. To keep track of this, Wentao has actually drawn two vertical reference lines directly onto his bathroom mirror. Standing at an exact, fixed spot every morning, he can immediately spot if his cheeks have widened by one or two millimeters after being treated to a feast the night before.
When the table jokes that he could livestream this bizarre daily measurement routine, Wentao laments how miserable the struggle is. When he is off-camera and not shooting, he is quite content being a "fatty," but stepping in front of the lens forces his hand. The panel laughs and refers to this grueling maintenance as "protecting the means of production" (保护生产资料). For Wentao, this is not merely vanity; it is an occupational neurosis. When he feels overweight, he sinks into an irritable, self-loathing mood where he finds himself annoyed and reluctant to even talk to his guests while hosting. For him, "sacrificing for art" simply means severe starvation right before production begins. Two days of starving sheds those exact two millimeters of facial puffiness, forcing him in everyday life to resign himself to "eating grass."
[01:40](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=100s) The Psychology of Salad and the Finnish Lettuce Awakening
The table questions whether this sort of ascetic rabbit food can actually be called "tasty." Wentao argues that "tasty" is an entirely constructed concept: once your brain convinces you that something is pure and beneficial for your health, it acquires its own kind of deliciousness. The psychological trajectory is fascinating: on day one, eating cold raw greens feels miserable, but humans naturally adapt to the best option available within a bad situation. By the time someone commits to eating a single salad meal a day while everyone else indulges in rich, greasy spreads, a shift occurs. Waking up the next morning, the first thought is an eager anticipation: "Oh, I get to have that salad again today!" Wentao's personal bowl includes avocado, a hard-boiled egg, and boiled chicken breast, but its non-negotiable cornerstone is roasted sesame dressing. The dressing is so essential to his mental well-being that on one occasion when the kitchen mistakenly swapped it for vinegar, he was left thoroughly distraught.
Wentao contrasts this with an anecdote about a Chinese friend who traveled to Finland for a government event. Wentao offered to take him out for proper Finnish specialties or Chinese cuisine, but the friend adamantly declined, insisting he genuinely adored the plain conference catering. When asked what he was being fed, the friend explained it was basic fare—salmon, potatoes, and heaps of raw lettuce. The friend confessed it was the first time in his life he had tasted truly fresh vegetables, discovering the distinct, unmasked profile of each individual leaf and how their natural flavors interacted without heavy dressings.
The panel points out that human appetite operates much like an inmate's psychology: if a prison mandates a strictly austere, healthy diet, the inmates eventually start finding it deeply delicious and craving it daily. Modern urbanites often construct their own disciplinary walls in a similar fashion, seeking psychological security through rigid dietary control.
```mermaid
flowchart TD
accTitle: The Psychological Shift in Restrictive Eating
accDescr: Diagram illustrating how dietary restriction shifts the perception of bland food from punishment to reward.
subgraph Phase2["Sensory & Cognitive Adaptation"]
B --> C["Brain Re-frames Food as 'Pure & Healthy'"]
C --> D["Palette Sensitizes to Natural Produce Flavors"]
end
subgraph Phase3["Psychological Reward"]
D --> E["Morning Anticipation (Craving the Salad)"]
E --> F["Essential Indulgence (Non-negotiable Sesame Dressing)"]
end
```
[04:10](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=250s) Food as Seasonality, Sauce Dependency, and Civilization
The discussion shifts to the deeper existential meaning of food. If eating is reduced entirely to utilitarian survival—consuming nutrients merely to stay alive—it is likened to two people marrying purely for reproduction. Just as a marriage encompasses emotional intimacy, pleasure, and recreation beyond simply producing offspring, eating must provide psychological fulfillment and cultural joy rather than feeling like a chore someone commanded you to finish. Through the supermarket stalls and the dining table, food becomes a lens for understanding geography, the change of seasons, and the turning of the earth.
To illustrate this, an example is given of preparing a bowl of plain rice accompanied by seasonal wild rice stems (茭白, jiāobái). Cooked slowly in a skillet with virtually no oil, turned gently with chopsticks until tender, the vegetable yields an inherent, delicate sweetness. Eating it connects the diner directly to the agricultural calendar—signaling the solar terms of Grain Buds (小满) or Grain in Ear (芒种).
This philosophy directly clashes with sauce-heavy culinary traditions:
- Living in Northern Europe strips away sauces, forcing the palate to recalibrate and distinguish between authentic agricultural sweetness and industrial seasoning.
- By contrast, Asian street food traditions, such as Taiwanese snacks, are dominated by signature sauces; removing the sauce often reveals that people loved the condiment far more than the underlying ingredient.
- One guest shares that their household keeps a steady supply of specific bottled chili sauce sent from in-laws in Taiwan; her husband relies on it as an emotional tether to childhood memories, willing to slather it on virtually anything—even a traditional mung bean pastry (绿豆椪).
- While sauces can mask low-quality ingredients—much like children drowning meals in ketchup—they are also defended as a sophisticated accumulation and extension of human civilization, reflecting centuries of refined taste, emotion, and culture.
[08:34](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=514s) Strawberry Nostalgia and the Viewership Hierarchy of Taste
The emotional weight of food emerges when discussing fruit consumption. When a guest mentions that her child readily eats 500 grams (a full catty) of strawberries, Ma Ka-fai notes that the image that sprang to his mind was not the child, but his own childhood in Hong Kong. Back when he was seven or eight years old, strawberries were an exorbitant luxury that working-class families could rarely afford. His household would buy just two or three individual strawberries, gathering nearly ten family members to share them. Each person took turns taking a tiny, deliberate bite. While looking back on that memory evokes a warm, cozy sense of family solidarity, it also reminds him of the economic deprivation of the era.
Dou Wentao circles back to the cultural phenomenon of "white people food." He observes a telling historical reversal: in previous decades, Western societies directed an exoticizing gaze toward Eastern food practices; today, Chinese social media directs an anthropological "gaze" onto Westerners' raw, unseasoned eating habits. Yet despite the modern online fetish for low-oil, raw, sauce-free eating, authentic domestic cravings tell a very different story. Dou Wentao cites viewer data compiled by CCTV during the broadcasting of the legendary documentary series *A Bite of China* (《舌尖上的中国》), which precisely tracked audience engagement peaks to reveal what Chinese viewers crave most:
- **Third place:** Fatty, rich animal fats and meats (such as meltingly tender braised pork belly / 红烧肉).
- **Second place:** Dense, comforting staple carbohydrates (noodles, steamed buns, bowls of white rice, and fried dough cakes).
- **First place:** The ultimate sensory synthesis—staple carbohydrates wrapped tightly around fatty, savory meat (epitomized by dishes like Shaanxi meat sandwiches / 肉夹馍).
[10:54](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=654s) The Chinese Palate, Restraint, and the Social Meaning of Food
The conversation opens with a reflection on how deeply ingrained habits and dietary cravings are tied to human nature, especially when considering the historical context of the Chinese palate. These food instincts were not shaped in a vacuum; for generations across many regions, the predominant experience was one of persistent hunger. Because survival was the primary concern, there was never any room for a "healthy negative feedback" mechanism to develop naturally around eating. Chen Xiaoqing brings up a conversation he once had with an elderly professor, who pointedly told him: "Xiao, you make these tempting dishes every day; sometimes even I am seduced by them." Yet the professor questioned whether a mature, developed society should really spend so much intellectual and emotional energy obsessing over food, observing that in many advanced countries, people eat very simply so they can devote their time and attention to broader societal issues.
```mermaid
flowchart TD
accTitle: The Social and Cultural Layers of Eating
accDescr: Diagram tracing the spectrum of eating from biological survival to social ritual and artistic philosophy.
subgraph Survival["Biological & Historical Foundation"]
A["Historical Famine & Deprivation"] --> B["Craving for Abundance & Sustenance"]
end
subgraph Restraint["Self-Cultivation & Discipline"]
B --> C["Deliberate Training / Fasting"]
C --> D["Sitting at the Table Without Eating"]
end
subgraph Connection["Social & Ethical Dimension"]
D --> E["Communal Gathering & Family Duty"]
E --> F["Supreme Declaration: Sharing Rations"]
end
```
Chen Xiaoqing, despite making food documentation his life's work, reveals that he has disciplined himself to the point where he can sit at a banquet table while everyone else feasts and not touch a single morsel from start to finish. When Dou Wentao asks whether he still craves the food, Chen admits that while the urge initially existed, deliberate and repeated training caused the craving to vanish entirely. Even though he has streamlined his routine down to a single meal a day, he insists he will never eliminate eating entirely because dining is far more than an individual caloric transaction—it carries immense social and familial weight. He jokes that even when he cuts out a meal, he happily sits next to his companions during dinner, watching them eat "with the smile of a zookeeper."
[13:07](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=787s) Steamed Buns, Sesame Flatbreads, and the Ultimate Vow
Xu Zidong bridges the physiological and aesthetic aspects of food to literature, recalling a striking scene from Zhang Xianliang's novel *Half of Man Is Woman* (*男人的一半是女人*). In the book, the protagonist repairs a woman's water tank, and in gratitude and affection, she hands him a white steamed bun. Xu Zidong recites the passage from memory: the protagonist has lived for decades and spent eight grueling years in labor without touching the tender crust of a proper steamed bun. Holding it, he examines his whorled fingerprints (*luobusiji* / 螺蛳纹) pressed into the dough as his tears fall directly onto the bun. Behind him, the woman utters the decisive line: "From now on, what I eat, you shall eat." Xu Zidong remarks that this is nothing less than the Chinese cultural equivalent of the famous *Titanic* vow, "You jump, I jump." For a people who have known deprivation, sharing one's food is the supreme declaration of love, piercing through biology, psychology, aesthetics, and ethics in a single gesture.
Dou Wentao finds an exact parallel in Chen Xiaoqing's own book, *Eating Until We Grow Old* (*吃着吃着就老了*), praising Chen for possessing a deeply tender heart beneath a gruff exterior. Dou reads aloud an autobiographical passage about Chen's father and a particular sesame flatbread (*shaobing* / 烧饼). In 1960, during a time of widespread scarcity, Chen's father set out to walk more than ten miles to visit classmates at another institution, accompanied by a female classmate from the Dabie Mountains who was visiting her own roommate there. Their school rations were nowhere near enough to sustain the long trek. Coming upon a flatbread stall, the young man hesitated, bought a single flatbread, split it into an uneven large and small piece, and handed the larger portion to the girl. After quickly wolfing down his smaller piece, he bit his lip in silence, quietly watching her finish the remainder bit by bit. That female classmate later became Chen Xiaoqing's mother.
Xu Zidong quips that Chen's mother was won over remarkably cheaply by just half a flatbread, prompting Chen to reveal the heartwarming backstory: his mother recounted this very tale to Chen's son right before the grandson left to study in the United States. She gave him heartfelt grandmotherly advice on choosing a partner: "Don't look at anything else. Look for a good heart. She must treat you well." To a mother looking out for her son, the ultimate sign of love is finding a partner who would willingly give him the larger half of the bread.
[17:23](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=1043s) The Guangyuan Beef Bone Noodles and the Displaced Storyteller
Chen Xiaoqing shifts the conversation to how food operates as an emotional time capsule and an entry point into the lives of strangers. Earlier that very day, he visited a noodle shop known for its broth. While advertised as Chongqing-style, the seasoning was too gentle and mild rather than aggressive and raw. Chen struck up a conversation with the shop's operators: a man managing the front and a woman cooking in the kitchen. When Chen inquired if they were married, the man clarified that they were not a couple; both had their own respective families. The woman had learned the recipe from her grandmother, who hailed from Guangyuan, Sichuan. Chen immediately recognized the regional preparation: Guangyuan beef bone noodles (*niugumian* / 牛骨面), where a whole beef shank is sawn into thick cross-sections with the marrow bone intact in the center.
The owners ended up speaking with Chen for over forty minutes, revealing the poignant reason behind their mid-life career change:
- The male proprietor had previously worked as a television drama screenwriter and editor, while the female cook had worked in television marketing and publicity.
- Their production company had collapsed amid broader industry headwinds, forcing them to open a modest brick-and-mortar eatery just to make ends meet.
- The former screenwriter confessed that he felt completely alienated from the contemporary creative industry: "Most importantly, I feel like I don't fit into this era anymore."
- The dramatic structures and screenwriting craft he had spent his life studying had been declared worthless by modern metrics: "People nowadays don't need stories; they need emotional value."
- He lamented how modern media production is entirely dictated by KPIs and ROI, where producers can simply place an attractive face in front of a camera to chat casually and pull massive viewership, while the grand mansion that once housed his theatrical dreams has vanished, leaving creators stranded in an artistic wilderness.
[20:20](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=1220s) Sorting Chilies, Maotai Dreams, and Welcoming Banquets
Chen Xiaoqing explains that the true joy of dining out lies in observing the unexpected human vignettes one would otherwise never encounter. He recalls arriving early at a busy restaurant he featured in his book, waiting outside while listening to the staff sort dried chili peppers. The workers began debating what the most delicious substance in the entire world was, and one man stated with absolute conviction: "Moutai." When another asked if he had ever actually tasted the luxury liquor, the man admitted he had only ever sipped the dregs left behind in bottles by wealthy customers. He then offered his own bit of peasant wisdom: "I advise against drinking too much Moutai; it’s something you should normally hide at home... You drank Moutai. You got drunk, then you told others." To Chen, the sight of those laborers talking about elite liquor in the late-afternoon sun was a priceless, profoundly authentic scene that money could never buy.
The discussion then turns to Chen's experience visiting the world's top-ranked restaurant (distinguished by its reindeer-antler motif). Chen reflects that truly world-class, confident dining establishments are paradoxically the most humble:
- They place no psychological burden on the diner, never categorizing guests by status or wealth.
- Guests feel zero pressure to dress formally, behave pretentiously, or feign gastronomic expertise.
- Upon entering the gate, the entire kitchen and service staff bursts into warm, synchronous applause to welcome the diners.
- Dou Wentao and Xu Zidong joke about the awkwardness of the dynamic, laughing that it would be ridiculous if a guest started applauding upon entry or walked in crying like a government inspector—tears and applause should be reserved for the end of the meal.
- Chen recalls the emotional opening course: a deceptively simple chicken dish served in three deliberate stages, each paired with an evolving sauce that transformed the flavor profile as the diner progressed through the course.
[22:54](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=1374s) Dining at Noma: The Aged Chicken, Kombucha SCOBY, and Storytelling on the Plate
Mark Chao pulls out his phone to share photographs from his visit to Noma in Copenhagen, the world-renowned temple of New Nordic cuisine. He explains the restaurant's serving philosophy: diners are guided to savor the unadorned, original flavor of an ingredient first, after which they might be encouraged to dip it into an accompanying sauce or pair it with another element. These are gentle suggestions from the staff rather than rigid edicts. Inspecting the photos, the table is struck by a chicken dish that looks deceptively plain. Mark confesses that to Chinese eyes, the plate might appear almost pedestrian, yet the first bite hit him with immediate emotional resonance. While it did not taste identical, it instantly evoked the soulful depth of Hong Kong soy sauce chicken rice—the nostalgic indulgence of rich, fatty poultry he felt he had not experienced in ages.
The chicken was aged rather than simply cooked fresh. Mark notes an amusing cultural contrast during the service: while he enjoyed the dish, the Western diners seated nearby were presented with an entire bird, including its head and eyes intact, positioned directly before them. Given how Western diners traditionally recoil at seeing whole heads or fish eyes on their plates, the presentation was intentionally provocative. Mark points out another dish featuring game bird garnished with a curious reddish film. This turned out to be the harvested SCOBY (the gelatinous symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast) scraped directly from the top of fermenting kombucha and presented as food. The table reacts with playful horror at the idea of eating a bacterial mat, prompting the observation that once dining reaches this elite tier, guests are essentially "eating stories." Mark pushes back gently, insisting it is far more than mere narrative—it is a genuine expansion of sensory perception.
```mermaid
flowchart TD
accTitle: Noma Culinary Philosophy and Sensory Experience
accDescr: Chart illustrating how Noma transforms raw ingredients through aging and fermentation into sequential flavor profiles.
subgraph S1["Culinary Philosophy"]
A["Raw Natural Ingredients"] --> B["Aging & Fermentation"]
B --> C["Redefining Cooked vs. Raw"]
end
subgraph S2["Sensory Perception"]
C --> D["Dropping Prejudices"]
D --> E["Layered Experience: Space to Time"]
E --> F["Independent Flavors Coexisting Harmoniously"]
end
```
[24:36](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=1476s) Fermentation, Aging, and Formic Acid: Redefining Raw versus Cooked
Stepping into high-level gastronomy forces a person to reconsider fundamental definitions of food. Historically, humanity has defined "cooked" food by the presence of thermal heat—grilling, boiling, or stir-frying over a fire. However, the restaurant’s guiding principle is that fermentation represents humanity's second greatest culinary milestone after the discovery of fire. Before ancient human ancestors descended from trees, they could not easily digest or absorb dense nutrients without natural fermentation breaking them down first. In this modern culinary context, the rigid boundary between raw and cooked dissolves into infinite possibilities.
The conversation turns to the nuance between fermentation and aging. When filming Spanish *jamón ibérico*, producers adamantly rejected the label of "fermentation," insisting on the term "curing" or "aging," which bestows the cultural license to consume the cured pork raw without fear of pathogen contamination. In a similar vein, Noma bypasses conventional acidic seasonings altogether: instead of vinegar, the kitchen seasons dishes with natural formic acid extracted directly from ants. Diners might initially recoil at the thought of consuming insects, but Mark explains that the key is shedding preconceived biases—much like coaxing a young child to try strawberries for the first time. The ant acid provides a pristine, distinct prick of sourness that honors the ingredient rather than masking it.
[26:48](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=1608s) From Space to Time: The Symphony of Flavors and Seven Souls in the Mouth
Mark explains how Chef René Redzepi treats every ingredient with radical reverence. When multiple sauces and components are introduced in the mouth, they never collapse into a muddled slurry; rather, each component retains its crisp individuality while harmonizing with the others. Mark likens the experience to appreciating fine wine or loose-leaf tea, where appreciation moves along a temporal axis:
- **Front, Middle, and Finish:** The sensory journey shifts from a static spatial arrangement on the plate to a sequential unfolding over time.
- **Physical Contraction and Release:** A bite first causes the palate to tighten, only to yield a lingering sweetness as salivation increases, mirroring the *huigan* (回甘) of high-grade tea.
- **Harmonious Independence:** Mark describes the sensation as having "several independent souls in my mouth, yet they coordinate so well, not stealing the spotlight from each other."
The poetic description leaves the table thoroughly entertained. Dou Wentao remarks that documentary director Chen Xiaoqing has found a glamorous culinary successor in Mark, while joking that livestream host Dong Yuhui would struggle to match such evocative eloquence. Dou humorously highlights the stark generational contrast: while their parents' generation had to divide a single flatbread among family members just to stave off starvation, today's elite gastronomes are philosophizing over "seven souls breathing out from seven orifices." The table notes that this leap illustrates Maslow's hierarchy of needs, vaulting straight past baseline survival, social status, and security into pure, unadulterated sensory aesthetics.
[29:33](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=1773s) The Laboratory Behind Noma, the Burden of Fine Dining, and the Roots of Clean Eating
Mark recounts the atmosphere inside Noma, describing it as an almost monastic, egalitarian enclave that welcomes staff from across the globe, including Taiwanese, Korean, and mainland Chinese culinary professionals. A Taiwanese waiter pointed out a small, softly illuminated outbuilding on the grounds—the chef's experimental research laboratory. Redzepi insists that herbs and plants must be cultivated directly from seeds on site, believing that only through nurturing an organism from inception can a chef understand its essence and handle it with genuine respect. This egalitarian curiosity extends to their wine program: rather than relying on prestigious appellations, employees with an interest in wine are granted time off and encouragement to travel across Europe, discover hidden vineyards, and bring back bottles for collective tastings.
The table addresses the paradox of Noma's announced closure:
- **Financial Unviability:** Operating a kitchen that behaves like a scientific research institute with a massive labor footprint makes consistent profitability virtually impossible.
- **The Environmental Burden of Refined Dining:** Hyper-refined cuisine (*fine dining*) often clashes with ecological sustainability. Selecting only the minute seeds of a strawberry or discarding massive portions of an ingredient to extract a single sublime essence results in discarding far more food than diners actually consume.
The discussion traces modern health food, "light meals" (轻食), and raw plant-based diets back to their historical origins in the 1960s American counterculture. Influenced by Western spiritual leaders and yogic movements who framed meat consumption as spiritually impure, hippies adopted strict raw, whole-grain, and plant-based diets—a trend immortalized when figures like The Beatles embraced Indian spiritual philosophy. In evaluating modern dietary trends, the hosts observe that historically, the creation of broths, sauces, and cooked purees represented humanity's civilizational ascent beyond primitive carnivory. The modern surge of standardized, jarred industrial sauces reflects mass production rather than culinary degradation, setting the stage for an ongoing cultural tug-of-war between raw purism and industrial standardization.
[33:24](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=2004s) The "Post-Seasoning System" and Feasting on Forest Ants
The conversation opens on the modern dilemma of home cooking and nutritional balance, highlighting what the speakers call a "post-seasoning system." This culinary approach is particularly suited to contemporary people who want wholesome food without the exhausting labor of traditional cooking. Rather than embedding complex flavors through intensive cooking processes, simple, unadorned ingredients are prepared and then brought to life at the very end with specialized sauces. This method is far from a modern shortcut; it mirrors humanity’s oldest eating habits. In underdeveloped or indigenous culinary traditions, such as in Yunnan, locals take various wild plant stems, leaves, and fruits, pound them together in a mortar with tomatoes and hot chili peppers (reminiscent of traditional *chong cai*), and dress them with savory, pungent sauces. A diner simply scoops up rice, mixes it in by hand, and has an instantly vibrant meal. Dropping in a piece of plain boiled chicken absorbs the dressing just as easily.
```mermaid
flowchart LR
accTitle: The Two Paths of Flavor Transformation
accDescr: Flowchart contrasting microbial fermentation with traditional culinary transformation via heat and chef intervention.
subgraph Traditional["The Art of Fire & Water"]
D["Raw Ingredients<br/>(Meat / Vegetables)"] --> E["Chef as 'Ferryman'<br/>(Heat, Technique, Wok Hei)"]
E --> F["Finished Dish<br/>('Cai Yao' / Pocket Tofu)"]
end
```
When local dishes lack acidity, traditional gatherers turn directly to nature. The Jino people (基诺族) of Xishuangbanna, for instance, harvest weaver ants directly from tree branches to add a tart kick. The hosts recall filming a segment on this practice, noting that the UN Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) actively advocates insect consumption as an environmentally friendly, low-carbon, and highly nutritious alternative to livestock, packed with lean protein. One speaker shares a humorous personal memory of standing beside a tree, popping tiny, translucent golden ants into his mouth for over half an hour—completely outlasting the planned runtime of their half-hour shoot. The traditional method involves taking an entire nest, crushing the ants inside banana leaves, and eating them so that every single ant bursts with bright, citrusy acidity. The crew joked about committing an "ant massacre," yet acknowledged the delicate balance of indigenous harvesting, where foragers never wipe out an entire colony, preserving harmony between human appetite and forest ecology before official wildlife regulations stepped in.
- **Post-seasoning system (后熟/调味体系):** Applying dynamic sauces to plainly boiled or pounded ingredients at the table, preserving nutrition while maximizing convenience.
- **Yunnan pounded cuisine (舂菜):** Using fresh herbs, chili, and tomato mashed in mortars, mixed directly into rice and boiled chicken.
- **Insects as sustainable protein:** FAO-endorsed edible insects; transparent golden weaver ants provide high protein and natural formic acid tang.
---
[35:32](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=2132s) Fermentation: Uncontrolled Alchemy and Craft Beer's "Non-linear Memory"
The discussion shifts from raw foraging to the radical culinary philosophy of Copenhagen’s world-renowned restaurant Noma, specifically its obsession with fermentation. The speakers observe that while traditional culinary arts are rooted entirely in the manipulation of fire and water, fermentation exists in an entirely different, microscopic realm. Fermentation belongs to bacteria, molds, and yeasts. It acts like an invisible spirit, utilizing yeasts and lactic acid bacteria to strike ingredients like piano keys, composing entirely unpredictable melodies. When asked whether this process is governed by human design or wild nature, the response is emphatic: the moment human beings achieve total control, the music vanishes and collapses into sterile industrial standardization.
True fermentation requires surrendering control, a philosophy currently celebrated in the craft brewing scene, particularly with wild-fermented sour ales. Brewers introduce unpredictable yeasts—sourced from Canada, Iceland, or New Zealand—into malt wort without knowing what flavor profile will emerge months or years down the line. One speaker recounts a deeply moving encounter with a brewer who had set aside an experimental batch that sat sealed well past its intended fermentation schedule. Assuming the brew had spoiled, the brewer cracked it open, only to be stunned by an exquisite, unprecedented bouquet and texture. He christened the resulting beer "Non-linear Memory" (非线性记忆). The panel reflects on the romantic poetry of letting microbial time rewrite the fate of raw ingredients.
---
[37:23](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=2243s) Kiln Transmutations of the Kitchen: Tofu, *Jun Xing Shi*, and Ancient Molecular Gastronomy
This unpredictability sparks a broader reflection on Chinese culture: is Chinese cuisine defined by blending, or by radically altering the essential nature of matter? The process is compared to *yaobian* (窑变, kiln transmutation) in classical ceramics, or traditional papermaking, where rigid stalks of bamboo are soaked, mashed, and reprocessed until every physical trace of the original plant disappears into a delicate sheet of paper. Food follows the exact same alchemy. Tofu is cited as an achievement worthy of ranking alongside China’s Four Great Inventions. Raw soybeans naturally contain anti-nutritional factors (such as phytic acid and trypsin inhibitors) that block human nutrient absorption. For thousands of years, ancient peoples consumed beans with poor digestibility, until Han Dynasty Taoist alchemists accidentally discovered coagulation while attempting to refine immortality elixirs. It took another thousand years, reaching into the Song Dynasty, for tofu to become a universal everyday staple—a triumph of converting a stubborn legume into an entirely new, digestible substance.
The conversation highlights a culinary work titled after the phrase *Jun Xing Shi* (君幸食), borrowed from the classical lacquerware inscriptions uncovered in the Western Han Dynasty Mawangdui tombs, meaning "Honored guest, please enjoy your food." The research demonstrates that many cutting-edge techniques celebrated in modern Western fine dining—specifically molecular gastronomy—flourished in imperial Chinese kitchens centuries ago:
- **Pocket Tofu (口袋豆腐):** A classic Sichuan preparation where a solid block of tofu is deep-fried to form a skin and then subjected to an alkaline-acidic broth. The chemical reaction completely liquefies the solid soybean curd inside while keeping the outer shell intact, creating an edible "pocket" brimming with soup.
- **The Philosophy of *Cai Yao* (菜肴):** The Chinese word for cooked food, *yao* (肴), carries the phonetic and philosophical weight of *yao* (爻) from the *I Ching* (Book of Changes), representing perpetual transition, flux, and fundamental transformation.
- **The Ferryman Metaphor:** As one speaker poetically summarizes: "The ingredients are the starting point, and the dish is the destination. And the chef is the ferryman crossing that river."
This experiential, experimental kitchen science allowed ancient cooks to pursue what classical literature calls "reaching the divine" (*churu shenhua*, 出神入化). It is this exact transformative sensibility that drew Western avant-garde chefs like René Redzepi to the East, prompting Noma to stage extensive six-month culinary pop-ups in Japan to absorb Eastern philosophies of microbial aging and structural reinvention.
---
[40:32](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=2432s) Demystifying Pre-Made Dishes: The Economics, Aviation Cold Chains, and the Soul of *Wok Hei*
The conversation turns to the modern food industry controversy surrounding pre-made dishes (*yuzhicai*, 预制菜) and the widespread diner complaint that modern restaurant kitchens have abandoned cooking from scratch. While consumers view the ubiquity of factory-prepared meals with anxiety, the panel offers a pragmatic, nuanced breakdown. Pre-made dishes should not be demonized unconditionally; they are fundamentally categorized across different tiers, from fully prepared "ready-to-eat" products to semi-processed "ready-to-cook" ingredients. The ultimate tension between industrial efficiency and traditional culinary pleasure lies in the concept of *wok hei* (镬气, the "breath of the wok").
The hosts explain *wok hei* through ancestral tradition: in ancient times, when a boiled chicken was offered on the altar to ancestors, the spirits—believed to hover "three feet above our heads"—consumed the essence of the dish while the steam was still actively rising from the meat. *Wok hei* is precisely that ephemeral vapor and scorching heat captured in the brief window between pan and palate. The panel cites a hugely successful national restaurant chain specializing in Hunan-style stir-fried pork (such as Feidachu, 费大厨):
- The founder turned traditional Hunan wok cooking into a scalable business model.
- Rather than eliminating labor, the entire concept hinges on hiring skilled wok chefs whose sole job is to fry pork over intense flames to order.
- The dining room experience is engineered around minimizing the distance and transit time between the roaring wok and the diner's table, bringing the dish piping hot straight from the flame alongside an entire steaming rice cooker. Because it relies on fresh meat cooked live, it preserves the authentic spirit of *wok hei* rather than relying on mass-produced ready-to-eat pouches.
```
Industrial Pre-Made Dish (Preservative-Free Standard)
│
├─► Aviation-Grade Cold Chain Logistics (Sub-zero distribution to door)
├─► Massive Capital Investment (Specialized flash-freezing & testing)
└─► High End-Consumer Price (e.g., 70–80 RMB per braised pork belly)
VS.
Live "Wok Hei" Dining
│
├─► Fresh Ingredients & Dedicated Line Cook
└─► Minimal Distance: Wok ──(Immediate Steam)──► Table
```
The discussion contrasts this with newly released national regulatory standards for pre-made foods, which strictly exclude central-kitchen vegetable prep and ban artificial preservatives. While eliminating chemical preservatives sounds ideal to the public, the panel reveals the hidden economic catch: without preservatives, food safety relies entirely on uncompromising, medical- or aviation-grade cold chain logistics and continuous laboratory testing. A speaker recounts sampling Dongpo pork (*Dongporou*, 东坡肉) frozen for three months under rigorous aviation-level cold chains; though technically certified as pristine and "fresh" due to scientific climate control, the sensory experience of thawed fat can never match a fresh braise. The hosts vividly depict the ultimate culinary benchmark: a braised pork knuckle so tender and gelatinous that when lifted with chopsticks, it quivers continuously without the diner even breathing. Achieving that level of texture requires dining to be an art form rather than an exercise in standardized freezing. If consumers demand strictly preservative-free pre-made dishes backed by industrial refrigeration, they must be prepared to pay premium prices—such as 70 to 80 yuan for a single portion of braised pork belly—raising the final question of whether standardized convenience can ever truly coexist with artisanal gastronomic soul.
[44:56](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=2696s) The Dilemma of Pre-made Dishes: Freshness, Cost, and Culinary Respect
The discussion centers on the operational and sensory limits of pre-made dishes (*yuzhicai*). While pre-packaged sauces and bases belong to a distinct industrial system, restaurants constantly struggle with the fresh garnish and seasoning components that give food its vitality. In Jiangnan cuisine, for instance, dishes rely heavily on delicate additions like freshly chopped scallions, chives, or young, tender green garlic sprouts. Sourcing genuinely tender seasonal shoots is both difficult and costly; if an eatery simply relies on bulk garlic sprouts hauled in by heavy wholesale trucks, the pungent aromatic flavor is completely lost.
Beyond the flavor profile lies a deep-seated cultural and psychological aversion: diners often equate pre-prepared food with laziness. There is a widespread perception that respect for food is intrinsically tied to the labor and time invested in the cooking process. Shortening the preparation into an instant, reheat-and-serve shortcut leaves diners feeling disrespected, as though the cook is merely cutting corners.
[45:53](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=2753s) Motherhood, Guilt, and the Lesson of Finnish Baby Food
Reflecting on this sense of maternal guilt and food preparation, Zhou Yijun shares her contrasting experiences raising her children in Hong Kong versus Finland. During the complementary feeding stage when her first child turned six months old in Hong Kong, she undertook relentless manual labor:
- Mashing fresh strawberries and pureeing every single ingredient by hand daily.
- Freezing purees into tiny portioned ice cubes in the refrigerator to thaw as needed.
- Grinding soybeans to make fresh tofu completely from scratch for daily meals.
Upon moving to Finland, she was astonished to see Nordic parents casually buying ready-made baby food jars off supermarket shelves. When she skeptically questioned whether these glass jars contained artificial preservatives, local parents and hospital nurses clarified that canned vacuum-sealed food requires no preservatives at all. Hospital nurses actively urged her to stop exhausting herself in the kitchen: spending two hours pureeing vegetables was far worse than using that time to hold, play with, or bathe the baby, or simply take a relaxing shower. Hearing that commercial infant puree was professionally formulated, balanced, and pasteurized instantly dissolved her lingering maternal guilt, prompting her to abandon the exhausting ritual of handmade purees.
[47:24](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=2844s) Romanticizing "Handmade" Warmth vs. The Realities of Food Safety
The conversation shifts to demystifying the cultural nostalgia surrounding artisanal, "handmade" goods. Storytellers frequently romanticize food by claiming it carries the warmth and ancestral heritage of human hands, overlooking that human hands harbor bacteria and home kitchens lack standardized sterile controls. Commercial baby purees undergo rigorous pasteurization (such as standard low-temperature thermal processing), a level of hygiene impossible to guarantee over a home cutting board.
```mermaid
flowchart TD
accTitle: Artisanal Craft versus Industrial Food Production
accDescr: Comparison of artisanal handmade food traits against industrial standardized food traits.
Artisanal -.->|"Cultural Preference vs Practical Tradeoff"| Industrial
```
The contrast between home processing and industrial standards is illustrated through cooking oils:
- **Rapeseed Oil:** Handmade, wood-pressed rapeseed oil often contains excessive glucosinolates and undesirable natural compounds that national food safety standards strictly filter out.
- **Olive and Seed Oils:** Mediterranean extra virgin olive oils are unfiltered and intensely flavorful, yet inherently carry oxidation risks that industrial purifiers eliminate.
- **Fresh-Pressed Delicacies:** In Hunan, households rely on newly harvested tea seed oil to fry pork, keeping seeds refrigerated despite inevitable oxidation; a renowned Beijing chicken restaurant presses fresh peanut oil every five days solely to capture peak aroma.
While freshly pressed raw oils offer an irresistible, mustard-like pungent kick that food lovers cherish, true culinary safety and punchy rustic flavor often require compromises. Mass industrial food lowers consumer costs, expands accessibility (letting infants taste rare proteins like sturgeon in small, affordable portions without visiting luxury banquets), and provides reliable baselines—even if consumers never regard standardized fare like McDonald's as high gourmet.
[53:28](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=3208s) Chef-Centric Auteurs vs. Manager-Driven Chains: Dou Wentao's Dilemma
Analyzing the catering business model reveals a structural divide between two operational philosophies:
| Operational Dimension | Chef-Led Benchmark | Manager / Product-Led Benchmark |
|:--- |:--- |:--- |
| **Primary Driver** | Executive chef's personal craftsmanship and artistry | Standardized recipes, supply chains, and management systems |
| **Kitchen Staffing** | Highly trained master chefs commanding high salaries | Fresh culinary graduates with 3–5 years of basic drills following manuals |
| **Scalability** | Extremely difficult to scale; cannot oversee multiple branches | Highly scalable; kitchen roles eliminated or simplified |
| **Target Price Point** | High-end dining, bespoke culinary experiences | Mainstream mass market (e.g., average check around 100 RMB) |
In budget-conscious dining, strict controls over nuanced wok temperature, serving heat, and micro-seasoning are deprioritized in favor of consistency. The guests use this restaurant taxonomy as an analogy for creative work, addressing Dou Wentao directly: Dou's talk shows are inherently "chef-centered" auteur projects. While modern digital media is saturated with short-form videos managed through industrial, manager-driven efficiency, an artisan cannot realistically chase rapid, massive commercial scale.
The conversation cites the struggles of Copenhagen's world-famous restaurant Noma—which faced severe financial sustainability crises despite its global prestige—alongside an independent sour beer brewer who admits his artisanal craft makes no money. Much like producing independent cultural documentaries, creating a singular, signature "Dou Wentao" program is an act of artistic dedication rather than an exercise in industrial profit maximization.
[56:26](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=3386s) The Alienation of Food, Industrial Homogenization, and the Threat of AI
The discussion begins with a reflection on how food has transformed from simple sustenance into a carrier of emotional value. Referencing Japanese television dramas centered on small neighborhood diners (such as *Midnight Diner*), the speakers observe that dining out in the modern world is rarely just about eating a bowl of noodles—it is about consuming a story, a human connection, and an emotional experience. Yet this very human touch feels increasingly threatened, prompting a somber idiom: "the hare dies, the hound is cooked." The conversation turns toward whether humanity is entering an era where the fundamental structure of food and human labor is being superseded by artificial intelligence and automated standardization. Before an individual even has the chance to adapt or cultivate their craft, technological changes outpace them. Without radical uniqueness, human creators cannot survive the accelerating wave of AI.
```mermaid
flowchart TD
accTitle: From Artisanal Craft to Industrial Standardization and Active Pessimism
accDescr: Flowchart illustrating the transition from traditional dining and aura to pre-made industrial meals, monetization dilemmas, and the active pessimist response.
subgraph Shift ["Culinary & Cultural Transformation"]
A["Artisanal Craft & Aura<br/>(Unique, Reverent, Story-driven)"] --> B["Industrial Standardization<br/>(SOPs, Lower Costs, Pre-made Meals)"]
B --> C["Erosion of Craftsmanship<br/>(Chefs displaced, Homogenization)"]
end
subgraph Dilemma ["The Commercialization Trap"]
C --> D["Consumerist Monetization<br/>(Turn self into product first)"]
D --> E["Platform & Corporate Risk<br/>(Chasing scale over passion)"]
end
subgraph Stance ["Philosophical Response"]
E --> F["'Active Pessimists'<br/>(Lu Xun Spirit: Act despite inevitable decline)"]
end
```
The panel draws historical parallels to the countercultural and Arts and Crafts movements, which originally arose in fierce opposition to mass production and mechanical conformity. A vivid cultural touchstone is invoked: Pink Floyd's iconic music video for *The Wall*, where school children are pushed through a factory assembly line and ground into identical, indistinguishable sausages. Food itself serves as the ultimate metaphor for human commodification. As the table jokes about whether people are slowly turning into cyborgs, the host, Dou Wentao, is teased about having an AI avatar replace him next year—following the precedent set by Japanese virtual news anchors—which would finally allow him to travel the world while a digital double hosts the show.
---
[58:03](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=3483s) Pre-Made Meals, Displaced Chefs, and the German Worker's Credo
The banter gives way to a sharper debate over the culinary industry's industrial turn: the rise of pre-made meals (预制菜) and commercial standardization. As food documentarian Chen Xiaoqing points out, under pure commercial logic, the master chef is precisely the element a restaurant wants to eliminate. By breaking recipes down into standardized preparation processes and pre-packaged ingredients, an operator can hire ordinary, entry-level workers to reheat and assemble dishes. The taste remains remarkably consistent, costs drop drastically, and decent food becomes affordable and accessible to the broad public. For the vast majority of everyday consumers, the difference between a freshly prepared dish and a factory-prepped package is virtually indistinguishable—only a veteran master chef can spot the shortcut.
However, this democratization carries an existential threat: if industrial kitchens eliminate the need for trained culinary artists, the craft itself faces extinction, leaving traditional cooks without a livelihood. To explain how one perseveres in an undervalued trade, Xu Zidong recalls a telling anecdote from a German worker who outlined three reasons for doing his job:
1. **Interest**: Having genuine personal curiosity and passion for the work.
2. **Challenge**: Encountering difficulties that test and sharpen one's skills.
3. **Getting Paid**: "The third one is the most important: you still get paid."
The panel notes the quiet brilliance of adding that final pragmatic requirement. If a craft offers intellectual stimulation and meaningful challenges, earning even a modest income makes it something to deeply cherish in an increasingly ruthless economic landscape.
---
[59:35](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=3575s) Consumerism, Platform Risk, and the "Be Yourself" Monetization Trap
Dou Wentao questions Chen Xiaoqing about his personal trajectory: despite possessing enormous internet traffic and cultural influence, Chen has deliberately avoided opening a commercial restaurant chain, admitting frankly that "the water here is too deep." Dou Wentao observes a pervasive melancholy in Chen's food writings—a lingering sense of "the sun setting over the western hills" and a tragic foreboding for the culinary arts. Chen concedes that his current career is a compromise far removed from his youthful ideals in media, where he originally dreamed of filming wildlife and nature documentaries. In Western countries, philanthropic foundations and specialized societies fund costly nature cinematography, but domestic institutions cannot yet support such projects without commercial viability, steering him toward food television instead.
The dialogue expands into a broader indictment of modern consumer culture, where intrinsic passion has been replaced entirely by return on investment (ROI). Xu Zidong's three-step formula has been twisted inside out:
- Rather than developing an authentic interest that happens to provide an income, modern creators are told to "Be Yourself"—meaning, turn your personality into a packaged product designed purely to extract profit.
- Creators are forced to figure out how to make money first, and only then reconstruct a synthetic version of "themselves" that fits the monetization model.
Dou Wentao shares his own visceral aversion to e-commerce live-streaming and influencer marketing. While acquaintances urge him to sell tea sets or artisanal cups to cash in on his personal brand, he views the commercial influencer landscape as treacherous and alienated. Facing corporate suits who promise hundred-million-yuan windfalls, he asks who can genuinely be trusted when things go wrong. Without years of personal trust, third-party operators will inevitably shift blame onto the host. In an ecosystem entirely dominated by rapid scaling and capital extraction, the question of whether a creator actually loves what they do has become irrelevant.
---
[01:03:21](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=3801s) Frankfurt School Aura, "Active Pessimists," and the Fading Alleyway Flavors
The discussion deepens into cultural philosophy, examining how technological reproduction alters human perception. Xu Zidong cites the Frankfurt School—specifically Walter Benjamin's critique of mass culture and cinema. Before the invention of cinema, experiencing authentic art required a sense of sacred distance, uniqueness, and reverence (what Benjamin called the *aura*). A viewer standing before an original museum statue felt its lingering charm; discovering the piece was a replica instantly destroyed the aesthetic enchantment. Mass reproductive media, pioneered by film, stripped away that uniqueness by making infinite, identical copies available everywhere.
```mermaid
flowchart LR
accTitle: Mechanical Reproduction and Culinary Craft
accDescr: Comparison between Benjamin's concept of traditional aura and modern mass reproduction applied to dining.
subgraph Traditional ["Traditional Art & Craft (Aura)"]
direction TB
T1["Unique Presence"]
T2["Sense of Reverence"]
T3["Irreplaceable Master Chef"]
end
subgraph Modern ["Mass Reproduction (Industrial)"]
direction TB
M1["Infinite Duplication"]
M2["Democratized Access"]
M3["Standardized Pre-made Meals"]
end
Traditional -->|"Industrialization & Cinema/SOPs"| Modern
```
Yet even within market monopolies, the speakers argue that individuals need not simply surrender or "lie flat." Dou Wentao praises Chen Xiaoqing for navigating this tension: achieving mass-market success and respecting scientific standardization while simultaneously using his documentaries and essays to express independent social concerns and preserve disappearing regional traditions.
Chen Xiaoqing reveals the philosophical creed he instills in his production team:
- **"Active Pessimists" (积极的悲观主义者)**: Acknowledging with clear eyes that vast social and economic forces are entirely beyond individual control, yet choosing to throw oneself actively into the work regardless. The panel compares this stance directly to the spirit of Lu Xun—laboring against despair despite having no illusions of easy victory.
When Dou Wentao asks whether the cultural pendulum will eventually swing back—whether consumers will grow sick of sterile, factory-standardized meals and spark a renaissance of authentic, alleyway family kitchens—Chen Xiaoqing offers a sobering assessment. Revival depends entirely on the speed of societal transformation. If industrial homogenization happens too fast, the craft dies outright, and once severed, oral and intuitive traditions cannot easily be revived. Even centuries-old "time-honored brands" (老字号) frequently survive in name only: once their core culinary mastery is detached from the individual craftsman's living intuition and tactile memory, the heritage brand becomes an empty commercial shell.
[01:07:13](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=4033s) Tiny Artisan Eateries vs. Industrial Chains and Food Tech
Reflecting on culinary culture across the border in neighboring Japan, the speakers observe how countless tiny, hole-in-the-wall eateries manage to survive and thrive despite severe economic pressures. These modest operations—often staffed by just three or four people—stand out for being kept spotlessly clean. What makes dining in such places deeply touching is the intimate, human connection: the shopkeeper quietly watches from behind the counter, their face lighting up with genuine happiness simply seeing a customer savor a modest bowl of handmade noodles. It does not need to be an internationally renowned culinary brand; the simple act of taking pride in one's craft and bringing joy to a diner creates an emotional resonance that sterile commercial giants can never manufacture.
At the same time, the discussion touches on the tension between artisan cooking and modern food technology, including standardized mega-chains capable of seating a thousand diners. The speakers defend modern ingredients like MSG (monosodium glutamate) and chicken bouillon against simplistic condemnation, noting that they are achievements of contemporary food science rather than inherent villains. Using chicken bouillon does not automatically mean a cook is lazy. However, technology has clear limits: even if an industrial kitchen deploys MSG with mathematical precision, it cannot capture even half the depth, richness, and soul of a broth patiently simmered from scratch by a master chef. A great chef’s handmade soup remains irreplaceable, which explains why tiny, specialized shops continue to flourish right alongside massive corporate chains.
- Small artisan shops maintain impeccable cleanliness with minimal staff (often three to four workers).
- MSG and chicken bouillon are technological advancements, not culinary crimes, yet they cannot substitute for traditional slow-simmered stocks.
- Even in markets dominated by thousand-seat chain restaurants, independent small stalls retain an enduring, irreplaceable appeal.
---
[01:08:38](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQng7SahQfg&t=4118s) Ineradicable Food Memories: Flooded Streets, Shredded Flatbread, and Late-Night Beef Chow Fun
When searching personal memory for the meals that left the deepest mark, the speakers realize that the most vivid food experiences are rarely sophisticated banquets or high-end dining, but raw, unpretentious street food eaten under memorable circumstances. Dou Wentao looks back on his childhood in Shijiazhuang, recalling how he braved a torrential downpour and waded through flooded streets just to get his hands on northern-style shredded griddled flatbread (*chaobing*). Sliced into thin noodle-like strips, tossed with meat, and generously drizzled with red chili oil, that humble plate left an indelible impression that no standardized modern eatery could ever hope to replicate.
The nostalgic banter extends to Dou Wentao’s early working days at Guangdong Radio in Guangzhou. He reminisces about a late-night beef chow fun (*gan chao niu he*) stall situated right outside the station's back gate on Panfu Road. The magic of the dish lay entirely in the stall's signature chili oil ladled over the smoking wok-tossed flat rice noodles. Between him and a colleague, they downed eight full plates—four massive plates each—drinking cold beer stripped down to their undershirts in the southern heat. Dou Wentao remarks with wonder and amusement that despite having dined on endless luxury delicacies and exquisite banquets in the decades since, those fancy meals fade into a blur that he cannot even put into words, whereas the sweaty, messy joy of street-side beef chow fun and rain-soaked flatbread remains permanently etched in memory.
- Childhood food in Shijiazhuang: northern griddled flatbread cut into thin strips, served with savory meat and chili oil during flooded rainstorms.
- Guangzhou radio days on Panfu Road: eating four plates of beef chow fun per person (eight plates total) washed down with beer while sitting in undershirts.
- The psychological contrast in taste: high-end fine dining frequently slips from memory, while visceral, humble street meals linger for a lifetime.
The program explores how modern dining oscillates between utilitarian discipline and cultural expression, tracing how eating habits reflect historical trauma, sensory experimentation, and the tension between industrial standardization and artisanal craft. Through personal anecdotes and cultural analysis, the panel argues that food remains a vital repository of human intimacy and memory that resists complete technological reduction.
Ascetic Regimens, Scarcity, and Emotional Sustenance (0:00)
Dou Wentao and the panel examine restrictive eating habits like "white people food" and minimalist salads, which modern urbanites adopt for physical maintenance and self-discipline, noting how sensory deprivation reframes plain greens into psychological rewards. However, Dou and Chen Xiaoqing contrast this deliberate restraint with historical Chinese dietary instincts shaped by persistent hunger, where biological survival precluded negative feedback loops. Audience engagement data from the documentary series A Bite of China revealed that domestic viewers overwhelmingly crave energy-dense staples—specifically animal fats, rich carbohydrates, and savory meat wrapped inside starch.
Xu Zidong and Chen Xiaoqing emphasize that in cultures shaped by material deprivation, sharing food represents the supreme ethical declaration of affection. Xu cites Zhang Xianliang’s novel Half of Man Is Woman, where offering a white steamed bun functions as a profound commitment, while Chen recounts his father dividing a scarce sesame flatbread in 1960 to court his mother. For older generations, dining transcended caloric transactions to become an enduring social ritual and emotional pact.
Fermentation, Gastronomy, and Expanding Sensory Aesthetics (22:54)
Drawing on Mark Chao’s visit to Noma in Copenhagen, the panel analyzes how avant-garde gastronomy treats microbial fermentation as humanity's second great culinary leap after the control of fire. By incorporating aged meats, wild yeasts, kombucha cultures, and natural formic acid extracted from ants, contemporary fine dining blurs the rigid boundary between raw and cooked. Chao describes this experience as moving across a temporal rather than spatial axis, where independent flavors unfold sequentially on the palate without collapsing into a uniform paste.
The speakers connect this modern experimentation to traditional alchemical arts and ancient Chinese techniques, such as the accidental Han Dynasty discovery of tofu coagulation and Sichuan pocket tofu, where chemical reactions liquefy solid curds within an intact crust. While Dou Wentao observes that philosophizing over micro-sensory details reflects the apex of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, the panel notes that hyper-refined gastronomy faces severe structural limitations: Noma's closure highlights how intensive research laboratories and high ingredient wastage clash with long-term financial and ecological viability.
Pre-Made Industrialization Versus Living Culinary Craft (40:32)
The panel assesses the economic and sensory debates surrounding pre-made dishes (yuzhicai). Zhou Yijun notes that industrial food processing offers standardized pasteurization, safety, and relief from domestic guilt—as seen with commercially balanced infant purées in Finland—yet diners often harbor a psychological aversion, equating factory shortcuts with a lack of artisanal respect. Furthermore, the hosts explain that preservative-free pre-made meals require expensive aviation-grade cold chains that inflate consumer costs, while thawed proteins inevitably lose the gelatinous texture of fresh braises.
Crucially, mass-produced meals struggle to replicate wok hei ("the breath of the wok"), an ephemeral vapor generated between roaring flame and table. Under commercial management models, corporate chains intentionally eliminate expensive master chefs in favor of standard operating procedures and low-wage assemblers to maintain scalability. The panel acknowledges that while this democratization lowers dining costs, it fundamentally imperils the living craft and livelihoods of traditional cooks.
Mechanical Reproduction, Aura, and Active Pessimism (56:26)
Linking culinary homogenization to broader cultural alienation, the panel references Frankfurt School theorist Walter Benjamin’s critique of mass culture: mechanical reproduction strips away the unique presence, distance, and reverence—the aura—of artisanal work. As algorithms, artificial intelligence, and return-on-investment metrics incentivize creators and chefs to market commodified versions of themselves, unstandardized human craftsmanship is increasingly displaced.
In response, Chen Xiaoqing outlines his production philosophy of being an "active pessimist" (likened to the spirit of Lu Xun), recognizing that macroeconomic forces cannot be halted by individuals, yet resolving to document and preserve fading culinary traditions anyway. Dou Wentao and the panel conclude that while technical enhancements like MSG are valid scientific tools, they cannot replicate slowly simmered broths, noting that vivid memories of rain-soaked street stalls and late-night noodle plates remain indelible long after sterile luxury banquets fade.
The discussion leaves unresolved whether consumer fatigue with sterile mass production will eventually spark a revival of artisanal, family-run kitchens, warning that if industrial homogenization outpaces cultural transmission, centuries of intuitive culinary knowledge risk permanent loss.
[0:00] I’ve been eating this meal for the
[0:02] last two days. This meal, I’m sure
[0:04] Teacher Chen knows it.
[0:06] It’s called "white people food," but
[0:08] some say the name is a bit
[0:10] discriminatory, so they renamed it "
[0:12] physiological indicator 13," look at
[0:14] the next one.
[0:15] The "won't-die meal," keeps you from
[0:17] dying.
[0:19] I’ve adopted this approach because I
[0:21] gain weight too easily, really, if I
[0:23] eat just one meal. The next day, you
[0:26] know? My face looks wider in the mirror
[0:30] . Uh, it’s just
[0:33] water retention.
[0:34] One or two millimeters.
[0:36] Yeah.
[0:36] I drew two lines on my mirror.
[0:39] I stand at that fixed spot, and if I—
[0:41] hey, last night you treated me to a big
[0:43] meal, I can see it right away.
[0:47] You could live-stream this project
[0:48] later.
[0:51] Guess how much I ate yesterday. Yeah, I
[0:54] just find it too hard, because I’m
[0:56] still...when I’m not filming, I’m
[0:58] just a fatty.
[0:59] Yeah.
[0:59] But I film, and I think everyone likes
[1:01] to look good, right?
[1:02] Protecting the means of production.
[1:03] Right.
[1:04] Protecting the means of production.
[1:05] And honestly, I have a psychological,
[1:07] professional
[1:08] feeling that I'm too fat, and I get
[1:10] this disgusted mood, I don't know why,
[1:12] when I'm really fat, I don't want to
[1:14] talk to anyone while hosting the show,
[1:16] I just feel annoyed, you know?
[1:19] What does "sacrificing for art" mean?
[1:23] It means fasting before a show, or
[1:25] rather, not fasting, just starving.
[1:29] Someone like me, who gains weight
[1:31] immediately, loses those two
[1:33] millimeters after starving for two days
[1:35] .
[1:35] It’s obvious, so in my daily life, I
[1:37] just eat this grass, yeah.
[1:39] Just eat this grass.
[1:40] Is it tasty?
[1:41] Uh.
[1:41] Is it tasty?
[1:43] That’s also a very interesting
[1:44] question. "Tasty," that word "tasty" is
[1:47] a definition.
[1:48] This question.
[1:49] So your brain tells you that this stuff
[1:51] is good for your body. So that’s also
[1:54] a kind of "tasty."
[1:56] Let me tell you why it’s interesting.
[1:57] The first day you eat it, of course
[1:59] it’s not tasty. But people are always
[2:02] choosing the best among the bad options
[2:03] , I’ve decided to eat this for the
[2:05] whole week. And I even eat just one
[2:08] meal a day; you have your big greasy,
[2:11] meaty meal, and I have this one.
[2:14] And when it gets to that point, you
[2:16] know? The next morning, when you wake
[2:18] up, the first thing you think is, "Oh,
[2:20] I can have that salad again." It has
[2:23] avocado, a boiled egg—well, it does
[2:25] have an egg—and some chicken breast.
[2:28] Most importantly, it comes with the
[2:30] sesame sauce dressing I require. I must
[2:32] have that sesame dressing; one time
[2:34] they gave me vinegar instead and I was
[2:36] so annoyed. This sesame dressing, oh, I
[2:39] feel like...but they say it’s the
[2:41] healthiest now. In Finland, I had a
[2:44] friend who went there for an interview
[2:46] for a Finnish government event. I told
[2:49] him, "Let me treat you to some Finnish
[2:51] food, or I can take you out for Chinese
[2:53] food." He said, "No, Youtian, I
[2:55] genuinely love the meals they provide
[2:57] for us." I asked, "What do they give
[2:59] you?" I could probably guess; the Finns
[3:01] don't have much to offer, just salmon,
[3:03] potatoes, and the like.
[3:04] The most important part is the lettuce.
[3:07] Then he said, "I’m happy just eating
[3:09] lettuce." He said, "It’s the first
[3:12] time I’ve known what truly fresh
[3:13] vegetables taste like, the flavor of
[3:15] each individual vegetable, and what
[3:17] they taste like when combined." So he
[3:19] tries them every day, really opening up
[3:21] his palate.
[3:22] It’s because of this.
[3:23] And then he started loving "eating
[3:24] grass."
[3:25] Right, it’s exactly because of this.
[3:27] Suppose you were put in a prison in a
[3:28] certain country. If that prison
[3:30] mandates this kind of "healthy meal."
[3:32] You would eventually find it delicious.
[3:34] You would find it delicious, and
[3:36] you’d crave it every day. But people
[3:38] nowadays just box themselves in like
[3:40] this. That’s why I said when you
[3:45] write books and talk about Schopenhauer
[3:47] , I find that some cultural researchers
[3:48] would say this is actually a kind of
[3:50] self-imposed, how should I put it? A
[3:55] sense of security, people just wall
[3:57] themselves in. Even look at physical
[3:59] fitness, like Jiahui, an urban
[4:01] white-collar worker. Look at Professor
[4:05] Chen, you don't really look like the
[4:06] people you see at the entrance of your
[4:08] company.
[4:10] Don't you—you must have given this
[4:12] some thought. It really comes down to
[4:15] what eating means to us.
[4:17] Hmm.
[4:22] If eating is just for survival, to keep
[4:24] you alive, I think it’s like two
[4:25] people getting married just to
[4:27] procreate. In reality, when two people
[4:34] are together, there are other factors
[4:36] related to your physiological and
[4:38] psychological needs. It’s not just
[4:41] about producing offspring. When you two
[4:44] are together, there can be many
[4:46] beautiful things.
[4:47] There have to be other forms of
[4:49] entertainment.
[4:49] Exactly that. Food might be the same
[4:54] way; if it's just for survival, the
[4:57] experience feels a bit more serious.
[5:02] It’s like being told to hurry up and
[5:04] have another child,
[5:06] to complete a task. Right,
[5:08] but what do I get out of it myself? I
[5:12] think this is extremely important.
[5:17] Let’s talk about the main topic.
[5:23] Uh, if my son likes sour strawberries,
[5:25] that’s actually our definition or
[5:27] interpretation of him. It’s an
[5:29] interpretive system. What I express and
[5:32] what you express might not be the same
[5:34] thing, even though we are both eating.
[5:38] But, for me, eating not only satisfies
[5:40] my physiological and taste needs, but
[5:43] it also meets my psychological needs.
[5:48] Through eating, I can perhaps
[5:49] understand this world a bit more deeply
[5:51] . If I were his friend from Finland in
[5:57] Washington, I might think, "Oh, so
[5:59] people living with four seasons are
[6:00] different from us, especially in spring
[6:02] and autumn; it's not something you see
[6:04] often."
[6:10] He might realize something else: that
[6:12] through eating, through the produce in
[6:14] the supermarket, and through one's own
[6:16] dining table, you can understand so
[6:18] much more. It makes me feel more
[6:22] fulfilled. Even if I'm just eating
[6:24] plain rice.
[6:26] Mm.
[6:27] I still try to make it slightly
[6:28] seasonal. For instance, I might pair it
[6:31] with wild rice stems.
[6:32] Oh. Wild rice stems, they have a hint
[6:35] of sweetness, right? They not only have
[6:38] a hint of sweetness, but you basically
[6:39] don't need to add oil. You just let
[6:43] them simmer slowly in the pan, using
[6:45] chopsticks to turn them until they're
[6:46] cooked, and you'll know that flavor. Oh
[6:50] , this means it's the time of Grain
[6:52] Buds, or perhaps Grain in Ear. You can
[6:54] feel the earth turning; it's wonderful,
[6:57] truly wonderful. Besides, having lived
[7:00] in Northern Europe for a long time,
[7:02] although I still miss Asian food—like
[7:04] spicy soup or strong flavors—I have
[7:06] to admit, I don't know if I convinced
[7:08] myself or what, but after two days of
[7:10] eating that when I'm back, I start to
[7:12] miss the...
[7:15] the food without sauces, because you
[7:16] suddenly realize your tongue
[7:20] can distinguish what is artificial
[7:22] flavor. Mm.
[7:24] Sauces are easy; I feel that's our
[7:26] essence. Taiwan is the same—take
[7:28] street food, for example. We find that
[7:31] if you remove the sauce, you realize
[7:32] you didn't love that food as much as
[7:34] you thought. So our family always has a
[7:37] bottle of chili sauce supplied by my
[7:38] in-laws in Taiwan, because when my
[7:40] husband eats it, he thinks of his
[7:42] childhood, right? It connects to a lot
[7:44] of memories, and to put it bluntly, if
[7:46] you add that to anything, they'll find
[7:48] it delicious.
[7:50] They don't even care; you could put
[7:51] chili sauce on a mung bean pastry, and
[7:53] they'd probably find it perfectly
[7:55] edible.
[7:55] Adding ketchup works too, for kids.
[7:58] It’s just like some children who
[7:59] always eat ketchup, so I realized that
[8:01] sauces control a lot of things. But if
[8:03] you go to Finland and strip away the
[8:05] sauces, you are half-forced to
[8:06] appreciate the flavor the food is
[8:08] supposed to have.
[8:10] But if you look at it from another
[8:12] angle, some say sauces are an extension
[8:14] of civilization.
[8:15] Right.
[8:16] True, the raw, natural things are
[8:18] delicious.
[8:19] We were also trained by sauces later on
[8:21] . The tongue couldn't tell the
[8:23] difference, but later it was trained
[8:25] back to be able to distinguish. But
[8:27] sauces themselves are an accumulation
[8:29] of civilization.
[8:34] Eating something and adding salty or
[8:36] sweet flavors, and food always has "
[8:38] affect" or emotion attached to it, so
[8:40] for example, You-ting mentioned
[8:42] strawberries. Speaking of which, how
[8:47] many does your child eat?
[8:48] 500 grams. 500 grams.
[8:51] 500 grams is about a catty.
[8:53] While listening, it wasn't your child's
[8:55] image that appeared in my mind, but my
[8:56] own childhood. Because when we were
[8:59] kids, strawberries...how old were you
[9:01] when you started eating strawberries? I
[9:04] was probably seven or eight, they were
[9:06] expensive in Hong Kong.
[9:08] So when we bought them home, we’d buy
[9:10] just two or three. Ten people would
[9:13] share them. It's no exaggeration, we'd
[9:15] basically take one strawberry. I'd take
[9:18] a bite, then it was your turn to take a
[9:20] bite, taking turns biting.
[9:22] But looking back, of course, I think,
[9:24] oh, it was very warm and cozy, we
[9:26] enjoyed it together. But that was when
[9:32] economic conditions were worse, so as I
[9:34] listened to your child's story, my mind
[9:36] went to that, so now I can't help but
[9:37] ...Have a bit of nostalgia.
[9:42] But actually, I think what You-ting
[9:44] brought up is really a philosophical
[9:45] question. Hmm.
[9:47] It's about the original, authentic
[9:48] flavor. That's why people call it "
[9:51] white people food," though some say we
[9:53] shouldn't call it that. It reflects
[9:55] something—now it's the Chinese who
[9:57] have started to gaze at white people.
[10:00] In the past, it was the white gaze on
[10:02] Easterners, right? Now we call it "
[10:04] white people food," but there does seem
[10:06] to be a trend where they use less oil
[10:08] and frying.
[10:09] Yes. But if it's all like that, then
[10:12] where is China? You have to tell us
[10:15] about the sauces. And I have to provide
[10:17] evidence for what you've organized;
[10:19] this is data from CCTV. They have that
[10:22] "A Bite of China," and they have very
[10:24] precise viewership ratings—what the
[10:26] audience loves most.
[10:28] You say it yourself, what is the third?
[10:31] The third is fatty foods,
[10:34] like braised pork belly.
[10:36] The second is staple foods. Like
[10:39] noodles, steamed buns,
[10:41] rice.
[10:42] Or fried dough cakes.
[10:44] Yeah. The first is staple foods wrapped
[10:48] around fatty foods.
[10:52] Like a meat sandwich or something.
[10:54] So when you talk about changing tastes,
[10:56] changing habits, you have to consider
[10:58] human nature, especially our Chinese
[11:00] palate.
[11:00] Hmm.
[11:01] How do we resolve this contradiction?
[11:03] This was also cultivated bit by bit.
[11:05] Hmm.
[11:07] Weren't we like this from the beginning
[11:09] ?
[11:11] At the beginning, most of the time, in
[11:13] many places, we were hungry.
[11:15] True, that's right.
[11:18] So I used the term "healthy negative
[11:20] feedback," which we didn't have.
[11:25] Actually, regarding how we eat and what
[11:27] we eat, I think there are many ways to
[11:29] look at it.
[11:32] Right. I once met an old professor who
[11:37] told me, "Xiao, you make these tempting
[11:39] dishes every day; sometimes even I am
[11:41] seduced by them." But I feel that
[11:48] perhaps in a mature society, people
[11:50] shouldn't spend so much energy on food.
[11:55] I look at some developed countries;
[11:56] they eat very simply, and their people
[11:58] have more time to think about other
[12:00] issues. So, how do we view this? For
[12:09] someone like me who makes food content
[12:11] my daily life,
[12:17] I can even sit at a table while others
[12:19] eat and not eat a thing from start to
[12:20] finish. I can do that.
[12:24] Don't you crave it?
[12:25] I do, but with repeated training, the
[12:27] craving goes away. Oh.
[12:32] Yes, just like you, when I have to
[12:34] record a show, a sense of
[12:35] responsibility tells me to produce, but
[12:37] I won't reduce how often I eat, because
[12:39] eating isn't just meaningful to the
[12:41] individual; it has social significance.
[12:47] Eating with your family.
[12:49] Are you
[12:49] saying you only eat one meal a day? Yes
[12:51] , I
[12:52] How could you reduce it further?
[12:54] I can cut out a meal, but I can sit
[12:55] next to you during the second meal.
[13:00] Watching you eat with the smile of a
[13:02] zookeeper; look, that's high-level.
[13:07] You've talked a lot about the
[13:09] physiology, psychology, and aesthetics
[13:11] of eating.
[13:14] It reminded me of a scene from a novel
[13:16] I read.
[13:16] Hmm.
[13:17] That book, "Half of Man Is Woman."
[13:19] Hmm.
[13:20] In "Half of Man Is Woman," the
[13:22] protagonist, Zhang Xianliang's
[13:24] character, helps a woman fix a water
[13:26] tank, and she takes a liking to him. As
[13:29] a result, he hands her a steamed bun; I
[13:31] can almost recite that passage by heart
[13:33] .
[13:35] Hmm.
[13:36] He says, "I've lived for over 20 years.
[13:38] " It's been eight years. Since I
[13:42] touched this, what's it called, this
[13:44] crust.
[13:46] Yeah.
[13:47] It’s this very bun. What’s even
[13:51] more exquisite is that he says his
[13:54] fingerprints were on it, Luo Bu Si Ji.
[13:58] Yeah.
[13:59] There are two types of fingerprints,
[14:01] right?
[14:05] Exactly, Luo Bu Si Ji, and my tears
[14:07] just fell right onto that bun, and the
[14:10] woman said a sentence behind me: "From
[14:12] now on, what I eat, you shall eat."
[14:18] Yeah.
[14:20] That is the Chinese version of a
[14:22] Titanic declaration, "You jump, I jump.
[14:24] "
[14:26] For us, "What I eat, you shall eat" is
[14:28] the most supreme declaration of love.
[14:32] Why do I think such a detail is so
[14:33] great? Now I think of what you
[14:35] mentioned: the biological,
[14:37] Yeah.
[14:39] the psychological,
[14:41] the aesthetic, and the ethical.
[14:43] Right? All these levels can be pierced
[14:46] by a single plot point. So, Professor
[14:50] Xu, no wonder we share the same
[14:52] birthday. I’m not lying to you. Look,
[14:55] I was planning to read a passage from
[14:57] this book on the show today, see what I
[14:59] marked? Let me tell you, Professor Xiao
[15:01] , I read this "Eating Until We Grow Old
[15:03] " that you wrote, and I feel like what
[15:05] Lu Xun said about the whole thing being
[15:08] just the word "human." I finished
[15:12] reading your book, and I feel the whole
[15:14] thing comes down to two words; I feel
[15:16] everything he writes is just so
[15:18] grounded. Look, listen, let me tell you
[15:23] why I say he has a tender heart beneath
[15:26] a tough exterior. There’s this part
[15:29] where his father loved a specific
[15:30] sesame flatbread. That flatbread, he
[15:33] described it as being incredibly
[15:35] delicious. Then, in 1960, on his way to
[15:40] visit classmates in the city, his
[15:41] father went to another school to visit
[15:44] someone, accompanied by a female
[15:45] classmate, a fellow student from the
[15:47] Dabie Mountains. Because this girl also
[15:53] had a roommate at that school, they
[15:55] went together as companions. It was
[16:00] over ten miles between the two schools,
[16:02] and their school rations couldn't
[16:04] sustain the trip, so when they came
[16:06] across that flatbread stand, his father
[16:08] hesitated for a moment, bought one,
[16:09] split it into a large and small piece,
[16:11] and handed the larger one to the girl.
[16:17] After quickly finishing the smaller
[16:19] piece, he bit his lip and watched
[16:21] silently as the girl finished hers bit
[16:23] by bit. As you know, this girl later
[16:27] became my mother. I almost cried when I
[16:30] read that. Wouldn't you say it’s the
[16:33] same idea as what you were talking
[16:34] about?
[16:37] I still feel sorry for his mom, being
[16:39] won over by a small flatbread.
[16:43] This story is actually about my son
[16:45] heading off to America.
[16:47] Study. Saying, "You, in the future"—
[16:50] my mother, grandma, was teaching him
[16:52] life lessons.
[16:54] Saying, "In the future, you need to
[16:56] find a girlfriend.""Don't look at
[16:58] anything else.""Look for a good heart."
[17:03] "She must treat you well." Only then
[17:06] did I fully understand this.
[17:09] So, grandma wants the son's girlfriend
[17:11] to give him the larger portion, the
[17:13] opposite.
[17:16] If you are a mother wishing for your
[17:17] son's future, you want a girlfriend who
[17:19] gives the bigger share to him. Actually
[17:23] , this is common; every era probably
[17:25] has memories triggered by food. The
[17:29] noodles I ate for lunch today, I’ve
[17:31] had them before. Someone recommended
[17:35] this noodle shop, saying it was
[17:36] excellent. I went to eat, and I thought
[17:40] the noodles were quite good, but if you
[17:42] call it Chongqing-style, it’s not raw
[17:44] or bold enough; it’s a bit too mild.
[17:48] I asked, "Are you the ones who make
[17:50] these noodles?""Who did you learn from?
[17:52] " The male owner looked at me and said,
[17:54] "I don't know how to cook.""I just run
[17:57] the shop." I asked about the woman, "Oh
[18:00] , is this your wife?" He said, "No, no,
[18:04] we both have our own families.""As for
[18:07] her...""
[18:08] She learned from her grandma." I said,
[18:10] "Oh, let me ask." I asked, "Is your
[18:13] grandma from Chongqing?" He said, "No,
[18:15] she's from Guangyuan." I said, "Oh, no
[18:19] wonder these noodles taste like beef
[18:21] bone noodles, the Guangyuan kind, where
[18:23] a beef leg is sawn into a large piece
[18:25] of meat with a bone in the center.
[18:28] Those are delicious." I said, "It's
[18:30] even more like that." He said, "Ah, you
[18:32] even know that?" He said, "It's true,
[18:35] that's the kind of noodles we all eat
[18:37] back home." Later, what I ordered for
[18:39] lunch today was the beef bone noodles.
[18:41] I said, "This isn't the simplest thing,
[18:43] is it?" Later I asked, "How did you..."
[18:47] "...both have families, yet you're here
[18:49] running a noodle shop?" He said, "It's
[18:51] not like that.""It's like this." The
[18:53] two of them talked to me for over 40
[18:55] minutes. Why did they change careers?
[18:58] He said, "I heard you say you filmed
[19:00] about noodles before, and you seem to
[19:02] work in film and television too." He
[19:04] said, "I was a TV drama editor.""
[19:08] Our company is failing; we just can't
[19:10] keep going.""
[19:14] He worked in TV promotion, and I
[19:16] started this small physical business to
[19:18] see if we could still make ends meet.""
[19:23] Most importantly, I feel like I don't
[19:25] fit into this era anymore." I listened.
[19:27] I said, "Why?" You see, the
[19:30] screenwriting and dramatic theory I
[19:32] studied back then, it's all useless
[19:34] today. I am a storyteller.
[19:38] Hmm. People nowadays don't need stories
[19:41] ; they need emotional value. Do you
[19:43] know what emotional value is? He went
[19:47] on to explain this emotional value,
[19:49] then talked about KPIs, ROI, and the
[19:52] demands of the modern TV industry on a
[19:54] creator. He feels that now, you can
[20:00] just find a pretty kid to sit there,
[20:02] have everyone chat casually, and people
[20:04] will watch it just like a show. All
[20:09] these—The mansion that once built his
[20:11] theatrical dreams is already gone. In
[20:16] reality, everyone is in the wilderness.
[20:20] Oh, is this just a meal?
[20:26] I think the reason we go out to eat is
[20:28] that you can see a world you wouldn't
[20:29] normally encounter.
[20:35] You meet different people, just like
[20:36] the restaurant I wrote about in my book
[20:38] . I like it because there's a queue, so
[20:42] I prefer to go early. I listen to the
[20:44] workers there sorting chili peppers.
[20:47] And then they say, "Do you know what
[20:48] the most delicious thing in the world
[20:50] is?" You say you don't. A man says, "
[20:53] Moutai." Yes, they all say Moutai is
[20:56] the most delicious. Then someone asks
[20:58] the man, "Have you ever had Moutai?"
[21:01] He says, "I've had the leftovers from
[21:03] customers." He says, "I advise against
[21:06] drinking too much Moutai; it’s
[21:07] something you should normally hide at
[21:09] home.""You drank Moutai.""You got drunk
[21:14] , then you told others." Oh my. Look at
[21:17] that afternoon sun that hasn't set yet,
[21:19] with a few people picking chili peppers
[21:21] . Oh, I feel that this is a scene you
[21:25] couldn't buy no matter how much money
[21:27] you spent.
[21:29] Two people say Moutai is the best. Four
[21:31] , four people say Moutai is the best.
[21:34] Actually, they have nothing to do with
[21:36] Moutai. When they talk about Moutai,
[21:38] you just think, "Wow, really." I think
[21:40] this world's number one, throughout our
[21:42] entire communication, once you arrive
[21:44] there, he doesn't place any burden on
[21:46] you at all. I think a truly confident,
[21:49] top-tier restaurant is always the most
[21:51] humble; it never categorizes you. So I
[21:55] felt zero pressure there, no need to
[21:57] worry about dressing formally, or
[21:58] acting posh, or pretending to be a
[22:00] connoisseur. No, they just welcome you.
[22:04] I think this...because let me tell you,
[22:06] we were the first to enter that gate,
[22:08] the one with the reindeer antler design
[22:10] . They warmly applaud to welcome you;
[22:13] it’s not you applauding them, they
[22:14] start applauding the moment you walk in
[22:16] .
[22:17] It would be absurd if you applauded
[22:18] them, what guest applauds upon entering
[22:20] ?
[22:20] If they do well, shouldn't you do it at
[22:22] the end? Yeah, that’s just how they
[22:23] are.
[22:24] You should only cry after you've
[22:25] finished eating.
[22:26] Exactly, you can't come in crying, it
[22:28] looks like an inspection, right? Anyway
[22:32] , this part was very relaxed, and I
[22:34] tasted it. The whole process really got
[22:37] me a bit emotional; the first dish was
[22:39] just chicken. The way they serve it is
[22:44] you eat a bit first, then they ask you
[22:46] to add a sauce, then something else,
[22:48] maybe three stages like that. But it...
[22:52] That just means eating it with
[22:53] different sauces, right?
[22:54] No, no, you eat the original flavor
[22:56] first, then maybe add a sauce, and
[22:58] maybe another ingredient. They're just
[23:00] giving you suggestions, not demanding
[23:01] it.
[23:03] Let me see the photos, see how good it
[23:05] really is. I’ve never heard of it,
[23:10] but in this specific culinary niche,
[23:12] they are doing it very, very...
[23:17] Well, you...
[23:18] The chef has a laboratory. This is the
[23:21] chicken I mentioned. Doesn't it look
[23:23] quite simple? Maybe because I'm Chinese
[23:25] , you look at it and think it's simple,
[23:27] right? But when I tasted it, do you
[23:29] know what I thought of? I’m not
[23:31] saying it tasted the same, but I
[23:32] thought of Hong Kong, of my favorite
[23:34] soy sauce chicken rice. It felt like I
[23:36] hadn't had such delicious, fatty
[23:38] chicken in so long; it stirs up so many
[23:40] memories.
[23:40] It’s likely an aged chicken. Right,
[23:44] and I found it interesting—perhaps
[23:46] because I’m Asian—but for all the
[23:47] foreigners next to me, the first
[23:49] chicken dish was served with the whole
[23:51] bird, even the chicken head.
[23:54] It was placed right in front of them to
[23:55] look at while they ate. We were
[23:57] thinking, foreigners usually hate
[23:59] seeing eyes, like fish eyes. There was
[24:02] a seafood dish, though not the one I
[24:03] had. I had the game bird. That layer,
[24:07] the red one you see, that’s...
[24:10] Kombucha, do you know it? It’s
[24:12] fermented tea.
[24:13] Scoby.
[24:14] Scoby.
[24:15] That’s terrifying.
[24:17] And they took the kombucha...
[24:19] Yeah, they took the culture from the
[24:21] top of the kombucha, scraped it off,
[24:22] and served it to you to eat.
[24:24] At a certain level, you're just eating
[24:26] stories.
[24:27] Right.
[24:27] Well, not just stories, not entirely
[24:29] just stories. I’ve generally tried
[24:32] foods like this, but it’s actually a
[24:34] completely different sensory experience
[24:36] . The key is that once you enter the
[24:40] professional world of gastronomy, you
[24:42] might have to rediscover the world. For
[24:46] instance, the aging I just mentioned—
[24:48] we used to define "cooked" as grilling,
[24:50] boiling, or stir-frying over a fire,
[24:53] but that’s not really it; its
[24:54] greatest feature is fermentation. Right
[24:58] .
[25:00] Fermentation is the second greatest
[25:02] human discovery after fire; before we
[25:04] climbed down from the trees, we
[25:06] couldn't absorb those nutrients. So how
[25:10] do we define raw and cooked? This
[25:13] restaurant gave us a new answer; it’s
[25:15] limitless.
[25:17] It has closed down now.
[25:19] It’s closing soon—it’s about raw
[25:21] muscle.
[25:21] It’s natural fermentation. No, it’s
[25:23] not just natural fermentation; this
[25:25] aging process is actually quite special
[25:27] . It’s very, very complex. For
[25:30] example, with Spanish ham, we might
[25:32] call it fermentation, but when we went
[25:34] to film, they said, "No, we don't call
[25:36] it fermentation, we call it aging."
[25:38] Right.
[25:40] Because once I call it aging, you can
[25:42] eat it raw. Hmm.
[25:49] My expertise isn't enough to cover it
[25:51] fully, but there are indeed vast
[25:52] amounts of food we can consume and
[25:54] absorb through fermentation without any
[25:56] harm.
[26:01] Yes, it’s a type of—this restaurant
[26:03] doesn't even use vinegar.
[26:05] Right, they use ants instead.
[26:07] Yes.
[26:08] They use formic acid, which is ant acid
[26:10] .
[26:11] Hmm.
[26:12] From ants.
[26:13] So you think you’re eating ants, but
[26:15] no, you’re eating the acid.
[26:17] Oh my god.
[26:18] But it’s just a little, and then you
[26:19] ...
[26:19] If you don't eat it, so be it.
[26:21] No, no, the point is, I also felt that
[26:23] way at first and I would frown, right?
[26:25] I had two chances, and I felt the
[26:27] journey was too long; I’m still a
[26:29] rather lazy person. But I told myself,
[26:31] just like my son eating strawberries,
[26:33] you have to let go of your prejudices,
[26:35] and you must—this chef respects every
[26:37] single ingredient, and all his sauces,
[26:39] when combined, make you feel...when I
[26:41] say "delicious," I mean it never makes
[26:43] you feel like they’ve blended into
[26:45] one; it’s three distinct flavors.
[26:48] In your mouth...
[26:48] When you drink, you taste the notes,
[26:50] right? You talk about the front, middle
[26:52] , and finish.
[26:53] Yes, that’s how I moved from layers
[26:55] of space to layers of time. Hey.
[26:58] Oh.
[27:00] What does it mean to chew and chew
[27:02] until it gets sweet, and then slowly...
[27:05] It first makes your mouth contract, and
[27:07] when it opens up again, all your
[27:09] secretions taste sweet; it’s just
[27:11] like drinking tea, truly high-end.
[27:13] Right, that’s how it should be with
[27:15] tea and food, that’s exactly what it
[27:17] means. And even a layman like me can
[27:21] understand it; I think that’s the
[27:22] most impressive part—you don’t need
[27:24] to be a food critic, just sit there and
[27:26] follow the experience. I just want to
[27:30] eat attentively, not keep chatting. I
[27:32] just eat slowly and enjoy the moment,
[27:34] thinking, "My goodness, there are
[27:35] several independent souls in my mouth,
[27:37] yet they coordinate so well, not
[27:39] stealing the spotlight from each other,
[27:41] as if to say we are all wonderful." But
[27:44] just because I’m saying these things
[27:45] here doesn’t mean I’m trying to
[27:47] overshadow anyone; it’s not like that
[27:48] . We can all be good together and
[27:51] create something new in the mouth. I
[27:53] feel like Teacher Xiaoqing has a
[27:55] successor, a beautiful successor; six
[27:57] or seven souls, the author must be
[27:59] stunned, what a way to describe it.
[28:02] He shifted the problem of space into
[28:04] time. Space is just that the place is
[28:07] too far away, we haven’t been there
[28:09] and can’t experience it, right?
[28:11] Turned it into what kind of time? We
[28:13] were just talking about the problem of
[28:14] not having enough to eat.
[28:15] Right. He skipped the problem of hunger
[28:18] and moved on to something we don’t
[28:19] even know what to call.
[28:22] Exactly, you know, because it’s
[28:24] really Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.
[28:28] Many things we talk about relate to
[28:30] survival, class identity, and a sense
[28:32] of security. What he’s talking about
[28:37] isn’t on the same level as the food
[28:39] we usually discuss; it’s aesthetic.
[28:43] Exactly, it’s culinary.
[28:46] From that previous topic, he suddenly
[28:48] jumped to this. You know, when I heard
[28:50] his description, I thought, "Is this a
[28:52] crime?" Back in the day, our parents
[28:54] would share a single flatbread, and
[28:56] these people are making this out of it?
[28:59] But you’re talking about back then;
[29:00] he is talking about the present.
[29:02] Besides, someone described it just like
[29:05] what Youting said, about several souls
[29:07] and bodies. Someone described it like
[29:10] this: when the food is so good that
[29:12] they’ve finished it and we have none,
[29:14] we should ask them to open their mouths
[29:16] and breathe out those souls.
[29:18] Ah, we’d smell it and think it tastes
[29:20] delicious.
[29:21] Breathing out from all seven orifices.
[29:23] We lean in to smell those seven souls;
[29:25] as long as they don't turn into seven
[29:27] bodies, it's fine.
[29:29] But I think he taught me another kind
[29:31] of life for food, and after I came out,
[29:33] I truly started to, because Noma's
[29:35] chefs have a laboratory.
[29:37] Right. And let me tell you.
[29:39] It’s like a religion.
[29:41] Yes, the waiter—and they even
[29:43] arranged a waiter from Taiwan for me—
[29:45] first of all, I felt that this place
[29:47] embraces everything, people from all
[29:49] over the world.
[29:51] Koreans, Chinese, they’re all there.
[29:53] Exactly, and they explain things to you
[29:55] in a language you’re familiar with.
[29:57] Then he pointed to that little house
[29:58] and asked, "Do you see that little
[29:59] house with the dim light?" I said I did
[30:01] , and he asked, "Do you see that person
[30:03] ?" That should be our chef, and I
[30:05] thought, "Wow, he’s in there, it’s
[30:07] like a laboratory." He requires that
[30:10] everything be started as much as
[30:12] possible from scratch, especially
[30:14] plants and herbs; he insists on growing
[30:15] them from seeds because he believes
[30:17] that’s the only way to know how to
[30:19] use them and to truly respect the
[30:21] process. Then why close down? It’s
[30:25] because the process is too exhausting.
[30:28] To grow things well, to make them fresh
[30:30] and delicious enough for you to taste
[30:32] their true flavors, is a massive
[30:33] undertaking. And their wine selection
[30:36] —I thought it must be incredibly
[30:38] prestigious, you know, world-class.
[30:41] When I asked the sommelier, he said, "
[30:43] Oh, for our wine, any employee
[30:45] interested in wine can just pitch where
[30:46] they're going to drink in Europe, and
[30:48] they'll even give them time off."
[30:51] Hmm.
[30:51] Go drink, go explore your own culinary
[30:53] journey; it doesn't have to be fine
[30:55] dining. Then come back and tell me what
[30:58] you drank, bring it back, and we’ll
[31:00] all taste it together. I felt that this
[31:04] chef didn't have the rigid standards I
[31:06] expected, but he extremely respected
[31:07] everyone’s palate.
[31:09] Yeah.
[31:10] You know what I mean? That’s why he
[31:11] was able to create things that I found
[31:13] truly unique.
[31:13] You could live-stream it online.
[31:16] How could someone like Dong Yuhui
[31:17] compare to him? Exactly.
[31:19] I don’t understand that at all, mine
[31:21] was also by him...
[31:22] But my question is, why couldn't it
[31:24] stay open?
[31:25] Because it wasn't profitable.
[31:28] It didn't make money. He felt that fine
[31:31] dining was...
[31:32] Refined cuisine.
[31:33] Refined cuisine isn't eco-friendly. Hmm
[31:36] .
[31:37] Because think about it, you only eat
[31:38] those few seeds on a strawberry, maybe
[31:40] —what happens to the rest? You can
[31:43] only throw them away, or if you want to
[31:45] reuse them, it's too difficult, so
[31:47] basically you end up discarding more
[31:49] ingredients than you actually eat.
[31:52] Right, as you just mentioned, this
[31:53] thing has turned into a religion. In
[31:57] fact, today's so-called
[31:58] health-maintaining meals—some white
[32:00] people even trace them back to that
[32:02] hippie era in the 1960s.
[32:06] Yes, it was a type of food promoted by
[32:08] hippies back then. It seems there was
[32:13] someone in the Western US, like a cult
[32:15] leader, who learned about yoga and
[32:16] spirituality. He told people that
[32:21] eating meat was a sin and pushed for a
[32:23] purely plant-based, whole-grain diet.
[32:28] At that time, people like the Beatles
[32:30] and others followed it, and that’s
[32:32] how this plant-based dietary culture
[32:34] emerged. So, let's talk about the
[32:38] survey data from CCTV today. Do you
[32:42] think humanity will change in the
[32:44] future? We will move toward more and
[32:47] more raw ingredients. For example, in
[32:50] China, what would you do without sauces
[32:52] ? What will our food become in the
[32:55] future?
[32:56] Sauce itself is a more advanced form of
[32:59] food. In the most primitive times, we
[33:01] lived like wild animals, eating raw
[33:03] meat and blood.
[33:06] But making sauces and soups—that was
[33:08] already a step forward from simply
[33:10] making meat paste. Why are there so
[33:14] many industrial or jarred sauces now?
[33:18] Actually, it's because they are easier
[33:20] to standardize. Mhm.
[33:24] And it can maintain its healthiness
[33:25] while providing a richer flavor. It's
[33:29] especially suited for people today who
[33:31] don't want to cook—it's what we call
[33:33] a "post-seasoning system."
[33:36] Oh.
[33:38] It means something comes along, and I
[33:40] use sauce as a post-seasoning system.
[33:43] If you look at our most primitive
[33:45] linguistic systems, even in the most
[33:46] underdeveloped regions, this exists.
[33:52] For example, in Yunnan, they have
[33:54] various plant stems, leaves, and fruits
[33:56] pounded together with tomatoes and
[33:58] chili peppers. Then you add the sauce,
[34:04] grab some rice, mix it in, and wow,
[34:06] it’s delicious—no problem at all.
[34:09] Boil a piece of chicken and add it in,
[34:11] and it's also very tasty. If it’s not
[34:13] sour enough, grab some ants from a tree
[34:15] . The Jino people eat ants, you know.
[34:17] We once filmed a great segment on this,
[34:19] because the UN Food and Agriculture
[34:21] Organization has been calling on
[34:22] everyone to eat more insects.
[34:25] Yes, eat more ants.
[34:27] Exactly, they are insects.
[34:31] From the perspective of gas emissions,
[34:33] this is the safest way to be low-carbon
[34:35] and nutritious; they are especially
[34:37] rich in protein.
[34:40] And also, just...
[34:42] The tiny golden ants, those transparent
[34:45] golden ones, the taste is real. I stood
[34:48] by the tree and ate for over half an
[34:50] hour, but our show only lasts half an
[34:51] hour. A few days ago, I wiped out an
[34:54] entire nest.
[34:55] Golden ants, golden ants, actually,
[34:57] there are quite a few species of ants.
[35:00] Eating them one by one, or the best way
[35:02] is to catch a whole nest.
[35:05] Just crush them and wrap them in banana
[35:07] leaves. Each one pops with flavor.
[35:10] A massacre, right? Yes, exactly, but
[35:13] you can't wipe them all out. The
[35:16] harmony between man and nature, it
[35:18] doesn't get better than this, but our
[35:20] story finished filming.
[35:22] Finished collecting them all. The state
[35:26] listed them as a second-class protected
[35:27] species, so they were included. But in
[35:32] Noma, their fermentation flavor—
[35:34] actually, fermentation is the world of
[35:36] bacteria, it's a completely different
[35:38] world. Unlike what we call cooking,
[35:43] which is all the art of water and fire.
[35:46] But fermentation is not. Fermentation
[35:50] is like a ghost, with all kinds of
[35:52] different yeasts, lactic acid bacteria,
[35:54] and so on. It treats food like piano
[35:57] keys. It plays a brand new tune of its
[36:00] own.
[36:01] Really.
[36:02] Is that controlled by humans, or is it
[36:04] half-natural?
[36:04] If humans could control it, this music
[36:06] wouldn't exist; that would be
[36:08] industrialization. You are completely
[36:10] in a state of being out of control.
[36:12] Just like in the craft beer scene
[36:14] nowadays.
[36:15] Mmm, they love drinking that one kind,
[36:18] it’s called sour, right? Sour ale.
[36:21] Or wild-yeast sour. You just, you have
[36:24] no idea where it’s found. It could be
[36:29] Canadian yeast, Icelandic yeast, or New
[36:31] Zealand yeast, put into the malt wort.
[36:39] And you have no idea what it will turn
[36:40] into. I even heard a story this time
[36:43] that really moved me. It had passed its
[36:47] original fermentation time, but it had
[36:49] been sealed off.
[36:51] Oh.
[36:53] Thinking it was gone, I figured it was
[36:55] ruined, but when I went to check—
[36:59] It was something completely new.
[37:04] It tasted amazing, the aroma and
[37:06] texture were entirely different, so he
[37:08] named it "Non-linear Memory."
[37:13] I just had some a few days ago, oh, it
[37:15] was wonderful.
[37:17] Oh my, just listening to this makes my
[37:19] mouth water. Is Chinese culture
[37:23] particularly good at blending?
[37:27] Blending?
[37:27] Blending?
[37:28] Or rather,
[37:31] Changing its nature, like kiln-fired
[37:33] ceramics, that kiln transmutation—you
[37:35] never know what it will become. Like
[37:39] when we film them making paper, it
[37:41] starts as bamboo. Look, look at how the
[37:44] Chinese invented papermaking. They
[37:48] processed it until its properties
[37:49] changed entirely, turning it into
[37:51] something else; you can't tell it has
[37:53] anything to do with bamboo anymore. I
[37:56] feel the same about food.
[37:59] This is where our wisdom lies, because
[38:01] if there were to be five great
[38:02] inventions, I think tofu should be one
[38:04] of them. Soybeans contain something
[38:07] called anti-nutrients, which are
[38:09] substances that prevent us from
[38:10] absorbing them. It’s just that for
[38:12] over 1,000, 2,000, or even 3,000 years,
[38:15] we’ve been eating beans without
[38:16] really understanding them. It wasn't
[38:19] until the Han Dynasty, while trying to
[38:21] refine elixirs, that we accidentally
[38:23] discovered the method for tofu, and it
[38:25] took another thousand years, until the
[38:27] Song Dynasty. It truly became a staple
[38:30] on our dining tables; it had become a
[38:32] different substance. It was no longer
[38:35] just a bean; it was tofu. I might have
[38:38] to recommend a new book called "Jun
[38:40] Xing."
[38:41] Yeah, it "
[38:45] Jun Xing Shi" comes from the
[38:47] inscription at the bottom of bowls in
[38:48] the Mawangdui Han tombs, meaning "thank
[38:50] you for coming, please help yourself.""
[38:55] Jun" as in gentleman, "Xing" as in the
[38:57] surname, and the "shi" from eating. It
[39:00] contains extensive research proving
[39:02] that many of the cooking methods
[39:04] currently used in Western fine dining,
[39:06] already existed in ancient China,
[39:08] including molecular gastronomy— "
[39:10] pocket tofu" is molecular gastronomy.
[39:13] Why is that?
[39:16] It’s because they deep-fry a whole
[39:17] block of tofu and then add a type of
[39:19] alkaline acidic liquid. The inside of
[39:23] the tofu is then hollowed out. So it
[39:27] becomes a "pocket"; it still looks like
[39:29] tofu when you pick it up, but the
[39:30] inside has already turned to liquid.
[39:33] It’s no longer tofu. Many things
[39:36] Chinese people call "cai yao"—why "
[39:39] yao"? If you look at the hexagrams in
[39:42] the I Ching, it represents a process of
[39:44] complete transformation. Oh,
[39:49] the ingredients are the starting point,
[39:50] and the dish is the destination.
[39:55] And the chef is the ferryman crossing
[39:56] that river.
[39:59] My goodness, that’s so well-put.
[40:01] That’s why Chinese people love to use
[40:03] this phrase: "reaching a state of
[40:05] perfection,""
[40:06] achieving the divine." We seem quite
[40:09] adept at transforming one thing into
[40:11] another. It’s not theoretical science
[40:14] , but experimental science, like with
[40:16] tofu. That’s why in my articles and
[40:18] films about Noma, I’ve mentioned it
[40:20] has an Eastern sensibility, so Noma
[40:22] later even opened pop-up restaurants,
[40:24] doing that—
[40:26] He went to Japan and stayed for a long
[40:28] time; he did it twice, six months each
[40:30] time.
[40:30] Right.
[40:31] And yet, when you talk about current
[40:33] methods, like this kind of stir-frying
[40:35] and deep-frying,
[40:37] Just as you said, there was a lot of
[40:39] discussion recently about pre-made
[40:41] dishes. Someone told me that no matter
[40:44] what restaurant you go to now, most of
[40:46] what you eat is pre-made.
[40:49] They’re all the same.
[40:50] Is that so?
[40:53] It’s determined by the nature of the
[40:54] restaurant business, but my view on
[40:56] pre-made dishes is different from yours
[40:58] ; it’s not something to be afraid of.
[41:01] Let me define it first. I’ve been
[41:04] hearing about this issue lately, but we
[41:06] can categorize pre-made dishes into
[41:08] three types.
[41:09] One is "easy-to-eat," meaning you eat
[41:11] it directly. What is "wok hei"(breath
[41:13] of the wok)? "Wok hei" is like when you
[41:15] used to cook a chicken to offer to your
[41:17] ancestors.
[41:18] How did your ancestors eat it? It was
[41:20] while the steam was still rising. There
[41:22] are spirits three feet above our heads.
[41:24] Mhm.
[41:25] They ate it right then and there. That
[41:27] is "wok hei," and I think that’s
[41:29] great. Take, for example, a famous
[41:31] Hunan-style spicy stir-fried pork chain
[41:34] that has opened many stores nationwide.
[41:37] I think this young person is incredibly
[41:38] smart. He turned the Hunan-style wok
[41:41] culture into a monetization model.
[41:42] Mhm.
[41:43] Mhm. Mhm.
[41:45] This restaurant can have nothing else,
[41:47] but it must have a chef who can
[41:49] stir-fry spicy pork. I care about the
[41:53] distance from where you cook it to
[41:55] where I am. I want to bring this piping
[41:59] hot spicy pork to you, then open a rice
[42:01] cooker to serve it hot.
[42:05] The shortest distance and time from the
[42:06] wok to your mouth.
[42:08] So, this doesn't count as a pre-made
[42:10] dish. But would you say it is a
[42:12] pre-made dish? If they use
[42:16] mass-produced items, it's "
[42:17] easy-to-cooking," but if they use fresh
[42:19] meat, then it’s not even that; they
[42:21] are selling pure "wok hei."
[42:25] So, the state has now introduced a
[42:27] standard. They say that if we follow
[42:29] these strict standards, pre-made dishes
[42:31] will not only be harmless but might
[42:33] even be widely welcomed. Yes.
[42:36] But this definition doesn't even
[42:38] include central kitchen dishes; they
[42:39] aren't considered pre-made according to
[42:41] the current strict definition.
[42:43] Well.
[42:45] It also says no preservatives, but
[42:47] there is actually a problem with that.
[42:51] Are you willing to pay a higher price
[42:52] to buy these pre-made dishes? Because
[42:55] this involves things like cold chain
[42:57] logistics.
[42:58] Mhm.
[42:59] Cold chain management all the way to
[43:00] your home. It must be kept at a certain
[43:03] low temperature for sterilization. If
[43:07] you don't add preservatives, then you
[43:09] have to use other means for
[43:10] disinfection or preventing spoilage,
[43:12] but that requires investing in massive
[43:14] amounts of equipment and guarantees.
[43:17] So, in that case, regarding the
[43:18] mid-range market, would you accept, for
[43:20] example, seventy or eighty yuan for a
[43:22] piece of braised pork belly? Is that an
[43:24] issue for you?
[43:26] Isn't the benefit of pre-made dishes
[43:28] that they are expensive, fresh, and
[43:30] full of flavor?
[43:33] Full of flavor.
[43:35] You've already frozen it once. Last
[43:38] time I was on the show, I mentioned
[43:40] eating Dongpo pork that had been frozen
[43:42] for three months. This is using
[43:45] aviation standards, the highest level
[43:47] of cold-chain transport, a standard
[43:49] where absolutely nothing can go wrong.
[43:52] They claim they are giving you the
[43:54] freshest product—three months, only
[43:56] three months! That's considered "fresh,
[44:00] " because during the freezing process,
[44:01] they have to keep testing it. Mm.
[44:05] Constantly sampling it. So, you're
[44:07] saying it's delicious. That might be a
[44:10] whole other topic.
[44:19] Just imagine that pork knuckle; when
[44:21] you pick it up with your chopsticks,
[44:22] you look at it, you don't even need to
[44:24] hold your breath, it's still trembling
[44:26] —he can turn eating into an
[44:27] aesthetics lesson.
[44:36] No, I think I just saw the meat right
[44:38] there in his hand.
[44:39] It was moving.
[44:41] Does "pre-made" equate to a
[44:43] standardized, unified taste?
[44:48] Because my concept isn't clear, are all
[44:50] the flavors...
[44:51] Actually, all pre-made dishes are just
[44:53] components. In reality, there are many
[44:56] sub-categories that go along with these
[44:58] pre-made dishes. Their sauces might be
[45:01] an entirely different system.
[45:03] Then there are the fresh ingredients,
[45:05] like chopped green onions. For example,
[45:08] in the Jiangnan region, they use chives
[45:10] for seasoning, or green garlic sprouts,
[45:13] but they must be the tender, young
[45:14] variety. That is actually very
[45:17] difficult to achieve.
[45:19] Mm.
[45:20] And you still have restaurant costs to
[45:22] consider. If it's all green garlic
[45:26] sprouts shipped in by big trucks from
[45:27] wholesale markets, it has no flavor.
[45:31] Also, does pre-made food make people
[45:33] feel like you're just being lazy? I
[45:36] mean, why we are relatively repulsed is
[45:38] that I don't like how you...I feel that
[45:40] your respect for food comes from the
[45:41] cooking process. If you shorten this
[45:45] process and make it very quick, I feel
[45:47] you don't respect the food enough, or
[45:48] you don't respect me, so I think you're
[45:50] just being lazy. You know, when I think
[45:53] of pre-made dishes, I think of being a
[45:55] mother. When I was in Finland, the
[45:56] solid food stage for my first child—
[45:58] at six months—was done in Hong Kong.
[46:00] I tell you, I was mashing strawberries
[46:02] every single day, right? And everything
[46:04] is pureed, right? I prepped every
[46:07] single bit myself—blending it,
[46:09] freezing it into little cubes, storing
[46:11] it in the fridge, and then heating it
[46:12] up whenever needed, right? I even made
[46:15] some from scratch, like grinding and
[46:17] making tofu on the spot. Every single
[46:19] meal was made by me, and I even had to
[46:21] think about the ingredients. After
[46:24] arriving in Finland, I noticed all the
[46:26] moms and dads around me were buying
[46:28] those canned baby foods from the
[46:29] supermarket.
[46:31] The ones in glass jars. I said, "This
[46:33] must have preservatives, right?" They
[46:34] said, "No, it's canned." I asked, "Is
[46:36] it really not preserved?" They said, "
[46:38] No.""
[46:39] That's absolutely impossible."
[46:40] None at all. Even the hospital nurses
[46:43] said, "Mom, don't work so hard, just
[46:45] buy the supermarket ones."
[46:47] Exactly. The nutrition is actually more
[46:50] balanced because it’s all
[46:51] professionally processed. You're better
[46:54] off relaxing and enjoying your child
[46:56] than spending two hours in the kitchen
[46:57] pureeing food.
[46:59] You should use those two hours to
[47:01] interact with your baby, hold them, or
[47:03] even just take a shower. Just feed them
[47:05] the pre-made food; they will grow up
[47:07] just fine.
[47:07] Ah.
[47:08] It instantly eliminated all my guilt.
[47:11] Oh.
[47:11] And then I realized, wow, that's right,
[47:14] so I switched.
[47:15] You didn't? I thought, "That's
[47:17] impossible, for a baby? Absolutely
[47:19] impossible, it would be a sin, that’s
[47:22] definitely not allowed."
[47:24] Hmm.
[47:26] But I do have some concerns about
[47:28] handmade food. Like, was there any
[47:32] contamination during the process?
[47:35] Are you really clean enough? You say
[47:37] it's homemade. Right, it might actually
[47:39] be harmful. Do you know? Even during
[47:44] that process, baby food is usually
[47:46] pasteurized at 40 degrees Celsius.
[47:49] Well.
[47:52] Have you fully completed that entire
[47:54] process? That's very difficult. When we
[48:04] tell stories, we say we’ve carved our
[48:06] ancestors 'traditions into our palms,
[48:08] carrying the warmth of our hands to
[48:09] pass on to the next person. But is "
[48:16] handmade" really that good?
[48:18] Hands are full of bacteria. Let me give
[48:22] you an example, like the national
[48:23] standard for rapeseed oil.
[48:27] Hmm.
[48:30] Comparing it with the rapeseed oil you
[48:31] press by hand at home, I’m not saying
[48:33] which is better. I mean, from a safety
[48:40] perspective, handmade rapeseed oil
[48:42] contains a lot of things like
[48:43] glucosinolates. I can't quite explain
[48:51] it clearly, but it contains quite a few
[48:53] elements that aren't good for us, or
[48:55] that hinder us, or are unfavorable to
[48:56] our bodies.
[49:02] We are all obsessed, for instance, with
[49:04] extra virgin olive oil from Spain or
[49:06] Italy. It really doesn't have any
[49:12] additives, is filtered very few times,
[49:14] and has a very rich flavor, but it does
[49:16] carry risks. We never warn people about
[49:20] the risks of these handmade products.
[49:23] Since you've already put in so much
[49:25] effort, how could I bring myself to
[49:26] warn you? Yet, we always warn about
[49:28] industrial ones.
[49:29] Those produced through many standards,
[49:32] strict standards. But personally, I
[49:36] prefer the handmade ones because the
[49:37] flavor is punchy.
[49:40] Especially that mustard-like scent.
[49:43] When we eat this raw rapeseed oil,
[49:45] especially if it’s within five days,
[49:47] it’s delicious. I love it. You’ve
[49:51] also been to that famous chicken
[49:53] restaurant in Beijing,
[49:55] they press their peanut oil every five
[49:57] days.
[49:58] It captures that freshest peanut oil
[50:00] flavor. And people in Hunan must use
[50:03] tea seed oil to stir-fry meat. Every
[50:07] year when the tea seeds are harvested,
[50:09] every family stores them in the fridge,
[50:11] but they still oxidize. Sometimes in
[50:15] this world, you have to compromise;
[50:17] it’s impossible to have it both ways.
[50:21] You can't say you want both perfect
[50:23] safety and enough flavor. Actually,
[50:25] this is the change. Do you know where
[50:27] the contradiction in this world lies?
[50:30] Industrial standards don't necessarily
[50:32] mean unhygienic or unhealthy, right?
[50:37] The handmade flavors we cherish so much
[50:39] aren't necessarily hygienic or healthy
[50:41] either, but they do have higher value
[50:43] in terms of aesthetics.
[50:47] No, but we must still remain vigilant
[50:49] regarding this massive industrial
[50:51] production.
[50:53] We need to strengthen oversight because
[50:55] if something goes wrong,
[50:56] exactly.
[50:57] It affects countless people. Compared
[51:01] to that, the little risks in your
[51:02] process are fine; you feel better
[51:03] knowing you’ve put your love into it.
[51:09] And your child might grow up knowing a
[51:10] dozen more flavors than others, because
[51:12] without pasteurization, it definitely
[51:14] keeps that "mother's taste."
[51:18] But I also think industrial food
[51:19] promotes accessibility because it
[51:21] lowers costs. It seems like McDonald's
[51:23] follows the same logic.
[51:25] McDonald's is essentially pre-prepared
[51:27] food.
[51:27] Yet people are still picky and don't
[51:29] consider eating McDonald's to be a
[51:31] gourmet experience.
[51:32] Is it guaranteed?
[51:33] The standardization of Chinese cuisine,
[51:35] this actually hides something, do you
[51:36] think Chinese cuisine can be
[51:38] standardized?
[51:39] I think standardization is definitely
[51:41] possible. Chinese cuisine.
[51:44] To what extent? Actually, in terms of
[51:47] standardization, Jia would mention a
[51:49] topic, which is that pre-made dishes
[51:50] mean everyone's food tastes the same.
[51:53] No, that's not it. Not at all. Pre-made
[51:57] dishes will collect data on your flavor
[51:59] requirements, and it will find the
[52:01] majority.
[52:04] However, if a minority
[52:07] needs that flavor.
[52:08] Mm.
[52:09] A second brand will quickly emerge. Oh.
[52:14] Finding, finding the people who prefer
[52:16] this taste, this, this is the invisible
[52:19] hand. What were you saying just now? I
[52:24] was just saying, I think, right, going
[52:26] back to what I just said, I feel
[52:28] pre-made dishes help promote many foods
[52:30] , and to some extent, I'm thinking now,
[52:32] is it possible, like I said, my baby
[52:34] had sturgeon for the first time in a
[52:36] pre-made dish, in that jar of theirs. I
[52:41] thought, they are only four, five, six
[52:43] months old, and you're feeding them
[52:45] fish? Then the nurse said, you should
[52:47] feed them that because it's high in
[52:48] protein. So I discovered, I took a bite
[52:51] , hey, I! Ate it myself, because I had
[52:53] never tried it.
[52:54] Then I realized, oh, this is something
[52:56] that lets you have just a little bit.
[52:57] Right, right? I don't have to go to a
[53:00] high-end restaurant to have that big
[53:02] piece, but I've already tasted the
[53:03] flavor; it helps expand access, or lets
[53:05] ordinary people eat a wider variety of
[53:07] foods, so I also thought about the
[53:09] teenage years when they're full of wild
[53:11] energy.
[53:12] Actually, actually, at that time they
[53:14] still don't have taste memory, people
[53:16] need to be a bit older.
[53:17] Is that just canned food? Yes.
[53:20] Baby food is just canned food; it's
[53:22] like buying canned food for cats and
[53:24] dogs. It's true, I open a can for my
[53:27] cat every day.
[53:28] Right, future branches, restaurants,
[53:30] essentially become delivery centers.
[53:33] That's another topic, that's another
[53:35] topic entirely. Oh my, the topics today
[53:37] are really great.
[53:38] It's all up to you to say.
[53:40] It's about the catering industry. Hmm,
[53:46] if you categorize restaurants generally
[53:48] , in terms of character, they fall into
[53:50] two types: restaurants where the chef
[53:52] is the benchmark, and restaurants where
[53:54] the product or, well, the manager is
[53:56] the benchmark. Actually, both types of
[54:03] restaurants have their pros and cons.
[54:09] With chef-led restaurants, if you want
[54:11] to scale up and make big money, it's
[54:13] almost impossible, including your
[54:14] management costs and your ability to
[54:16] specifically control the food. You
[54:21] can't say I've opened five branches and
[54:23] I'm going to visit all five today;
[54:25] that's impossible.
[54:27] Right, that’s the first master chef.
[54:32] But the manager's take is, "Actually,
[54:34] we're holding a meeting, and in our
[54:36] current model, I think the first thing
[54:37] we should cut is the chef position."
[54:46] They prefer pre-made dishes, or what
[54:47] you might call pre-prepared ingredients
[54:49] . I only need a culinary student who
[54:56] just graduated, with three to five
[54:58] years of basic training, and they can
[55:00] be the head chef at my restaurant, just
[55:02] following the recipes. Mhm.
[55:09] It’s roughly the same, because since
[55:11] it’s a restaurant with an average
[55:13] check of around 100 yuan, there are no
[55:15] particularly strict demands on flavor,
[55:18] serving temperature, seasoning, or the
[55:20] level of heat control. So, Dou Wentao,
[55:26] you need to think this through. The
[55:29] show you’re making is centered on the
[55:31] chef.
[55:33] Oh, there are many similar shows now;
[55:35] ever since short videos became popular,
[55:37] everyone seems to be talking, but
[55:39] that’s the manager's way of operating
[55:41] .
[55:42] Yes.
[55:43] You see? So don't, don't always be
[55:45] thinking about making big money. We
[55:49] can't—you just want to create a "Dou
[55:51] Wentao" show in your lifetime.
[55:56] We were talking about Noma restaurant;
[55:58] look, it's facing a crisis.
[56:01] It can't keep going. It can't stay open
[56:03] . A couple of days ago, I went to a
[56:06] sour beer brewery, and the young person
[56:08] there was truly exceptional. I asked, "
[56:12] So, do you make money making craft beer
[56:14] this way?""Of course not," they said. I
[56:17] asked, "Then why do you do it?" Then
[56:19] why do you make documentaries?
[56:21] Right, right, right.
[56:23] Let me just...
[56:24] Listening to those two industry workers
[56:26] from that TV drama about the small
[56:28] diner, I thought to myself, they're
[56:30] talking about "the hare dies, the hound
[56:32] is cooked."
[56:33] Exactly, you're fulfilling emotional
[56:35] value. It’s like, this meal I'm
[56:39] eating isn't just noodles; I'm eating a
[56:41] story.
[56:42] Right, right. It’s like, are we—the
[56:46] Chinese people, or perhaps all of
[56:48] humanity—Are we gradually entering an
[56:50] era where we can foresee that in terms
[56:52] of dietary structure, humans are
[56:54] becoming...
[56:57] We don't even need people to change; it
[56:59] creates a lot of AI. AI.
[57:01] It's that before you even change as a
[57:03] person, the AI is changing faster than
[57:05] you.
[57:06] It means if you don't have enough
[57:08] uniqueness, you won't be able to beat
[57:09] the AI trend.
[57:12] Yeah, back then the so-called CP
[57:14] movement was all about opposing
[57:15] industrial manufacturing and industrial
[57:17] standards. You remember the band Pink
[57:20] Floyd? They had a famous music video
[57:24] where kids come out of a
[57:25] production-line machine, all turning
[57:27] into identical sausages at the end.
[57:30] This is also a trend.
[57:31] Look, even they use food as a metaphor.
[57:34] So, what are we going to turn into in
[57:35] the future? I feel like it's starting
[57:38] to feel a bit like being a cyborg.
[57:41] Let’s talk to a virtual Wen Tang next
[57:43] year.
[57:44] Yeah, yeah, exactly.
[57:46] That way you can travel the world
[57:47] freely, just like you said.
[57:50] Exactly, when you go out to speak,
[57:52] you’ll definitely be a...
[57:55] They could come out and host the show
[57:56] for you. They already have that in
[57:59] Japan, those AI robot hosts.
[58:03] If we follow what Xiaoqing said, yeah,
[58:05] the ones who should really be fired are
[58:07] the chefs. Just find someone ordinary,
[58:12] train them, prep the ingredients, and
[58:15] cook according to a set process. It
[58:21] tastes the same, and costs can be
[58:23] lowered, which I think is a good thing
[58:25] for many regular folks. You lower the
[58:30] costs, and more people get to enjoy it.
[58:34] Once you have the money and the
[58:35] standards, then you can move forward
[58:37] and pursue that.
[58:38] It can be made to taste very good; most
[58:40] people can't even tell the difference.
[58:42] Only a real master chef would look at
[58:44] it and say, "Oh, it's just pre-made."
[58:46] But the fear is that pre-made meals
[58:48] will become so common that the
[58:49] profession won't exist anymore, leaving
[58:51] chefs with no way to make a living,
[58:52] because...
[58:53] So, they need a sense of mission. I
[58:59] remember a German guy—it left a deep
[59:01] impression on me—when someone asked
[59:03] him why he does this job, he gave three
[59:06] reasons: first is interest. The second
[59:11] is challenge.
[59:12] Challenge.
[59:13] The third one is the most important:
[59:15] you still get paid.
[59:17] You still earn a certain income.
[59:19] It’s quite brilliant, adding "you
[59:21] still get paid." It means you need
[59:24] interest and a challenge, even though
[59:26] you might not make much money otherwise
[59:28] .
[59:29] If you can still earn a little money
[59:31] under those circumstances.
[59:32] Right.
[59:33] So cherish it while you do it.
[59:35] Yeah, yeah, yeah. I mean, look at you,
[59:38] your traffic is so high right now,
[59:40] right? And you haven't even opened a
[59:43] restaurant chain yet.
[59:44] Right.
[59:45] No, I really don't...the water here is
[59:47] too deep.
[59:48] But I really feel that while you're
[59:49] doing things so passionately, on the
[59:51] other hand, I always feel like there's
[59:53] a sense of "the sun setting over the
[59:54] western hills" in your writing.
[59:56] Is this the "Rabbit Tragedy" you were
[59:58] talking about?
[60:01] Actually, it's still quite far from the
[60:03] dreams I had in my youth.
[60:08] What was your dream in your youth?
[60:10] Uh, I think it was the media industry.
[60:13] Right.
[60:15] There might have been more ideals back
[60:16] then.
[60:18] You didn't aspire to the food scene
[60:19] since you were a child.
[60:21] Of course not, there's a big gap in
[60:23] between, so why did I end up in the
[60:25] food industry?
[60:30] Because if I were to film wildlife now,
[60:32] if I could make money from it, if you
[60:34] gave me enough budget, I would do
[60:36] everything for free. But the cost is
[60:44] too high; our country hasn't reached
[60:46] that level yet. There are many
[60:51] foundations and groups that love nature
[60:53] and can support such things.
[60:57] Right, so
[60:58] This is something for the state to do.
[61:00] I just feel like we've entered what
[61:02] they call the era of consumerism, or
[61:04] whatever era it is; it's quite
[61:06] interesting, but it makes me feel
[61:08] there's no point anymore, you know? It
[61:11] means you can't talk about things when
[61:13] you go out now. It means what you like
[61:15] doesn't matter.
[61:16] It's all about return on investment.
[61:18] Exactly, you want to do something, it's
[61:20] all about that.
[61:21] Regarding Zidong's three points just
[61:23] now, it has now become "Be Yourself."
[61:26] That is, turn yourself into a product
[61:28] and then make money. Yes, these are
[61:30] also three steps.
[61:32] This third step is considered first.
[61:34] Yes.
[61:34] How to make money, then come back to
[61:36] figure out what kind of "self" I want
[61:37] to be.
[61:38] No, only by being yourself can you
[61:39] possibly make money; that's true now as
[61:41] well.
[61:41] No, Teacher Wentao wants to promote tea
[61:43] cups as himself, but people think he
[61:45] can't make money from it. No, he just
[61:47] can't turn himself into a product.
[61:49] Really, I just feel
[61:50] People will think it's a pity for you
[61:52] to do something like selling tea cups.
[61:55] Or they might think you're ridiculous,
[61:57] because for us ordinary people, we open
[61:59] a Weibo or something, wanting to post
[62:00] whatever we like. Making money is best,
[62:05] but if not, it doesn't matter. This is
[62:08] what influencer marketing is; you know,
[62:11] I've even struggled with this. In the
[62:15] end, I realized I didn't dare do it
[62:17] because the outside world is too
[62:18] unfamiliar and the risks are too high.
[62:22] For example, if I were to promote
[62:24] products, who could I trust?
[62:26] Hmm.
[62:27] You might hold a microphone, but I
[62:29] don't know you. Someone might come
[62:31] wearing a tie and say, "I'll give you a
[62:33] hundred million." What would I do, you
[62:35] know? How would I know? I love to
[62:37] promote things, so I told them, if I'm
[62:39] going to livestream, I need to have
[62:41] known you for at least a few years. I
[62:43] need to know who you are and understand
[62:45] you, so if something goes wrong, you
[62:47] won't just dump the blame on me, right?
[62:49] So, in the end, that's what I'm saying
[62:51] —working with a company is difficult.
[62:54] It’s impossible to work that way;
[62:56] they all have these plans where you
[62:57] have to help them, which helps you, and
[62:59] also helps us make big money. If you
[63:01] can't make big money, it’s honestly
[63:03] ridiculous. What on earth are you doing
[63:06] ? We originally thought this
[63:09] goal-oriented mindset was actually
[63:10] quite fine. But now I find that it
[63:14] seems like no one really cares about
[63:16] whether they actually like what
[63:17] they’re doing or not.
[63:21] The turning point in artistic
[63:22] perception, driven by science—the
[63:24] Frankfurt School argued that it was
[63:26] actually caused by cinema. Mm.
[63:32] They said that before cinema, people
[63:34] appreciated art with a sense of
[63:35] uniqueness and reverence. You go to a
[63:41] museum to see a statue, and if someone
[63:43] tells you it's a fake, you immediately
[63:45] lose interest. It's about the lingering
[63:48] charm—they’re saying it’s unique,
[63:50] something you think about long after,
[63:52] it has a certain flavor, and so on. All
[63:56] these concepts of music and fine art—
[63:58] that's how the world defined what was
[64:00] good. That was until the emergence of
[64:04] cinema. The problem with film is that
[64:10] you are caught up in it, worrying that
[64:12] because you rejected a partner for
[64:13] various reasons, you’ll just give up,
[64:15] lie flat, and stop doing anything at
[64:17] all. In fact, you still have plenty of
[64:23] room to choose and do things based on
[64:25] your own individual cases. Whether what
[64:32] you produce can be sustained or
[64:34] developed is another matter, because of
[64:36] various structural monopolies—the key
[64:37] lies in the monopoly. When the monopoly
[64:45] isn't fully realized, you still have
[64:47] some space, but it’s not easy to
[64:48] maintain. Look at how successful Chen
[64:54] Xiao is today, with the widest possible
[64:56] coverage, but at the same time, he
[64:58] expresses his own unique concerns in
[65:00] his shows and books, right? He
[65:05] expresses some doubts, but regarding
[65:07] the commercial principles of big
[65:09] corporations, he remains very neutral
[65:11] and wise. He is very successful, and I
[65:16] think I deserve to be where I am, you
[65:18] should be able to do it too.
[65:21] I think we should look for some comfort
[65:23] here.
[65:25] Well, I truly believe Teacher Chen is
[65:27] someone worth learning from, right?
[65:31] Look at how he understands and
[65:32] scientifically recognizes
[65:34] standardization, but at the same time,
[65:36] uses his work to constantly remind
[65:37] everyone of our gradually disappearing
[65:39] hometown. So, the slogan we instill in
[65:46] our team is "active pessimists."
[65:51] Active pessimists.
[65:53] Meaning we know many things. Are
[65:57] completely out of our control. But we
[66:00] still must actively.
[66:01] Engage in them; there is no other way.
[66:03] It is, to a certain degree, the spirit
[66:06] of Lu Xun.
[66:06] But do you believe that in the future,
[66:08] things will swing back?
[66:10] Eating is the most important thing for
[66:12] humanity, after all. So, do you think
[66:17] humanity will have a natural
[66:19] inclination, where once we enter a
[66:21] stage of standardized food, will people
[66:23] eventually become dissatisfied? Will
[66:28] the distinct flavors, that unique charm
[66:30] in the small shops along the alleys,
[66:32] eventually become a universal demand
[66:34] again, and spring up like bamboo shoots
[66:36] after rain to overcome this era of
[66:38] standardization?
[66:41] That depends on the overall speed of
[66:43] social development; I think it might be
[66:45] related to the speed. If things change
[66:47] too quickly, it dies; and once it dies,
[66:49] it is hard to revive. We have so many "
[66:51] long-established" brands claiming
[66:53] hundreds of years of history. Look at
[66:55] how many generations of owners have
[66:57] passed. Aside from what they call the "
[67:01] core craft," which might barely be
[67:03] passed down, in reality, once that core
[67:05] craft leaves the original brain, what
[67:07] is that core craft worth? How much
[67:10] value does it really have, right? If
[67:13] you look at our neighboring country,
[67:15] they have so many tiny shops, even
[67:16] though their survival is also very
[67:18] difficult.
[67:19] Oh.
[67:21] There are so many tiny,
[67:22] hole-in-the-wall shops, shops with just
[67:25] three or four people. They keep the
[67:27] inside spotlessly clean. Hmm.
[67:30] And the owner watches you eat, sees you
[67:32] enjoying it, and their reaction—the
[67:34] expression on their face.
[67:37] Just them cooking a bowl of noodles—
[67:39] not some world-famous brand—but
[67:40] seeing you enjoy it makes them happy,
[67:42] and I find that very moving. On one
[67:44] hand, there are these large-scale
[67:46] chains, for example.
[67:48] They are all things they came up with;
[67:51] MSG is also...MSG, like I said, is not
[67:54] a culprit. Looking at food additives,
[67:58] including MSG and chicken bouillon,
[68:00] they are all products of modern
[68:01] technology. You can't call it...you
[68:05] can't say someone is lazy just because
[68:07] they used chicken bouillon. Even if you
[68:11] use MSG perfectly, without the flavor
[68:12] of the soup you simmered yourself, you
[68:14] probably can't even reach half the
[68:16] quality. This, this is something you
[68:20] can never beat; a soup made by a great
[68:22] chef is something that can never be
[68:23] replaced. Coming back to those huge,
[68:28] massive chain restaurants, the kind
[68:30] that seat a thousand people—they have
[68:32] them too. But their small shops
[68:36] actually thrive.
[68:38] Yeah. Honestly, when I think back on
[68:40] these food memories, they don't seem
[68:42] very impressive. Usually, you just
[68:45] recall things like being in Shizhuang
[68:47] as a kid, braving a heavy downpour to
[68:50] eat flatbread.
[68:52] You know the guy, right?
[68:54] No, I don't.
[68:56] It’s like rice noodles, but instead
[68:57] of stir-fried rice noodles,
[69:00] they swapped in northern-style griddled
[69:03] bread, sliced, sliced, sliced, sliced
[69:05] into strips. Wow, what a pathetic kid.
[69:08] There was meat on top, sprinkled with
[69:10] chili oil. Oh, man! Braving the flooded
[69:13] streets just to eat—all these
[69:14] memories are from these tiny shops. I
[69:17] can't even imagine that kind of thing
[69:18] in a standardized place. Also, there
[69:20] was this beef chow fun spot by the back
[69:22] door of Guangdong Radio on Panfu Road.
[69:25] Back then, my colleague and I went
[69:26] there; it was really all about the
[69:28] chili oil you’d pour on it.
[69:30] It was that chili oil. Imagine, eight
[69:32] plates of beef chow fun—we each
[69:34] downed four plates, drank beer,
[69:36] shirtless, just in our undershirts.
[69:38] That’s the kind of memory it is. Even
[69:40] though I’ve eaten so many good things
[69:42] since, I can’t put them into words;
[69:44] it’s so strange that I don’t
[69:45] remember them.