## Detailed walkthrough
### [00:00](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=0s) Northerners vs. Shanghainese: The Culture of the "Half-Liang" Food Stamp
The conversation begins with an examination of the cultural friction between Shanghai and the rest of China, starting with the derogatory undertone often perceived when locals label newcomers as "outsiders" (外地人). The speakers observe that in modern Shanghai, educated intellectuals rarely use the label; it has largely become a colloquial relic preserved among the working-class and lower-class urban strata. This leads into the broader contrast between the rough, unrestrained temperament of Northerners and the meticulous, hyper-detailed habits of Shanghainese people. While Northerners often find Shanghai's precision exasperating, the speakers point to the planned economy era to illustrate just how deeply this precision is rooted—specifically through the iconic "half-liang" (半两, roughly 25 grams) food stamp.
To an outsider arriving from northern cities like Beijing, discovering a half-liang grain coupon was a baffling shock. In the North, rations and purchases operated on a grand scale: residents bought mooncakes or pastries by the *jin* (斤, 500 grams), ordering "three *jin* of mooncakes" or "two *jin* of fried dough sticks" without a second thought. Northern rationing systems never conceived of an increment as small as half a liang. In Shanghai, however, daily commerce catered to granular, individual consumption. A single small bowl of wontons or an afternoon mooncake required exactly half a liang, and street vendors sold snacks individually. This stark difference routinely produced comedy at dining counters: a Northerner casually ordering "a bowl of wontons" with northern appetites in mind would either be baffled by the diminutive portion or end up ordering dozens of bowls by mistake.
- **The Half-Liang (半两) Coupon:** Frequently cited in essays by Lao She's son (Shu Yi) as the quintessential symbol of Shanghai's everyday meticulousness.
- **Bulk vs. Individual Purchasing:** Northerners traditionally purchased grain foods and pastries by the *jin*, while Shanghainese bought individual pieces (e.g., a single fried dough stick or mooncake) rationed by fractions of a *liang*.
---
[01:47](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=107s) Public Phones, Crab Dinners, and Shanghai's Small-Portion Practicality
The dialogue shifts to personal memories of Shanghai's urban pace compared to Beijing, starting with public payphones in the pre-mobile era. A speaker recalls using public neighborhood phones in Shanghai, where a local elderly woman managing the stand would hover inches away. If the caller hung up one call and immediately dialed another, the woman would actively tap them on the shoulder, chattering in Shanghainese: "Are you finished yet? Are you done yet?" In Beijing, such hovering would instantly trigger an aggressive confrontation ("What do you think you're doing?"), but in Shanghai, it was simply an expression of extreme practicality and efficiency. The manager was calculating the queue, the time, and the commission, tallying up costs right before the caller's eyes.
A related anecdote highlights a Shanghai taxi driver who flatly refused to take a passenger because his shift was ending and he was eager to head home for dinner. To prove his point, the cabbie proudly hoisted a fresh bag of crabs he had just bought: "Look, it's time for me to go home, I even bought crabs to eat." While Northerners traditionally mocked Shanghainese people for buying tiny, single-serving portions of food, the panel notes that in today's era of dieting, wellness, and environmental consciousness, Shanghai's approach feels strikingly modern. Buying just enough fresh ingredients for a single meal rather than hoarding mountains of food avoids overeating and eliminates food waste.
```mermaid
flowchart TD
accTitle: Regional Living Habits and Resource Allocation
accDescr: Comparison between Northern China and Shanghai regarding food purchasing, urban habits, and public efficiency.
subgraph North["Northern China (e.g., Beijing)"]
N1["Rough & Generous Temperament"]
N2["Bulk Winter Hoarding (Cabbage & Potatoes)"]
N3["Transactions in Jin (斤)"]
N4["Casual, Unhurried Public Pace"]
N1 --> N2 --> N3 --> N4
end
[03:26](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=206s) Climate, Daily Freshness, and the Geometry of Slicing Hairtail Fish
The structural origin of Shanghai's micro-purchasing habit lies in climate and household infrastructure. In the North, harsh winters historically wiped out fresh produce markets, requiring work units to allocate hundreds of pounds of Chinese cabbage and bulk potatoes for families to hoard through the freezing months. Conversely, Shanghai's humid, warm climate caused food to spoil rapidly. In the decades before domestic refrigerators existed, storing fresh food was impossible. However, Shanghai's mild weather allowed neighborhood produce stalls and small wet markets to operate year-round right outside residential alleyways. Locals adapted by buying tiny handfuls of ingredients daily, cooking only what was needed for immediate consumption to guarantee freshness.
```
+-------------------+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| Cultural Aspect | Northern Tradition (Beijing) | Shanghai Tradition |
+-------------------+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| Winter Logistics | Hoarding hundreds of lbs of | Daily trips to alley wet markets; |
| | cabbage & potatoes for storage | buying tiny handfuls of produce |
+-------------------+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| Hairtail Cutting | Straight across (2–3 inch slabs); | Sliced diagonally at an angle; |
| Style | keeps side fin bones unbroken | looks larger, but fractures bones |
+-------------------+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| Core Mindset | Generous, bold, straightforward | Calculating, efficient, practical |
+-------------------+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
```
This discussion sparks a debate over whether Shanghainese people have smaller appetites or merely smaller serving sizes, leading to a culinary dissection of braised hairtail fish (红烧带鱼)—one of the few staple saltwater fish available nationwide during that era alongside yellow croaker. In northern households, cooks chop hairtail straight across into hefty slabs two to three inches long; anything smaller is viewed as stingy. In Shanghai, cooks invariably slice hairtail diagonally at a steep angle. The speaker confesses that when he first encountered a diagonal slice as a child, he felt cheated: the diagonal cut created an optical illusion, expanding the surface area on the plate while offering little actual meat. Furthermore, slicing diagonally fractures the hairtail's fine dorsal fin bones into the flesh, making it far pricklier and more annoying to eat than a straight cross-section cut. The speaker's obsessive, practical breakdown of the fish cut is met with laughter—proving that even while critiquing the city's habits, his analytical instinct is quintessentially Shanghainese.
---
[06:05](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=365s) Commuter Efficiency, "Is It Worth It?", and the Rise of Shikumen Architecture
The intrinsic drive for efficiency in Shanghai extends seamlessly to modern public transit. A speaker recounts an observation from a young commuter who moved from Guangdong to Shanghai: on the subway, as the train nears a stop, the passenger behind will promptly tap the shoulder of the person in front to ask: "Are you getting off or not? If you're not getting off, let's swap places, or just let me pass." While newcomers find this rigid social sorting startling, local Shanghainese view it as pure common sense. Decades before the subway existed, commuters on crowded city buses routinely swapped positions long before reaching their stop so that exiting passengers were positioned right at the doors, maximizingboarding and alighting speed.
The roots of this calculating mindset trace back to the establishment of the foreign concessions. Prior to the concessions, Old Shanghai lacked modern urban infrastructure; on rainy days, streets turned into mud pits navigable only by palanquins or heavy carriages. When the International Settlement and French Concession emerged—alongside the numbered thoroughfares from One Road to Four Road—residents were stunned by modern, level pavement and lightweight, spring-cushioned carriages. Along these avenues arose Shikumen (石库门) architecture, a novel architectural hybrid blending traditional Jiangnan courtyard compounds with Western row-house layouts and ornamental pediments.
Surrounded by this modern commercial transition, Shanghainese culture developed an ingrained instinct for comparison and value calculation. Art critic and connoisseur Zhu Xingjian once noted that whenever he rode the train from Nanjing toward Shanghai, the moment he started hearing passengers constantly muttering the phrase "Is it worth it?" (划得来 / 划算), he knew the train was pulling into Shanghai. The panel jokes that this trait remains alive and well, noting how their regular guest, Professor Xu Zidong, constantly evaluates every experience with his trademark lament: "It's not worth it, it's not worth it."
- **Commuter Positioning:** Shanghai transit etiquette emphasizes preemptive seat-and-standing swaps before arriving at stops to maximize boarding efficiency.
- **Urban Contrast:** The mud roads of the old walled city contrasted sharply with the paved avenues and spring-cushioned carriages of the concessions.
- **The "Is It Worth It?" (划算) Refrain:** Recognized as the defining linguistic indicator of Shanghai's commercial consciousness and everyday cost-benefit calculation.
- **Shikumen Architecture:** Built extensively in the 1920s and 1930s as a unique East-meets-West urban dwelling form, starkly distinct from Beijing's traditional courtyard Siheyuan (四合院).
[08:58](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=538s) Shikumen Architecture and the Shanghai Sense of Boundaries
The conversation opens with reflections on Shikumen (石库门) architecture as a physical manifestation of Shanghai’s encounter with modern Western influences and severe space constraints. Shikumen buildings represent a masterclass in spatial efficiency. Dou Wentao recalls staying at a boutique hotel converted from a Shikumen, marveling at how a tiny entryway courtyard gives way to three vertically stacked stories where every square inch is ingeniously utilized. Recalling a prior shoot, he describes visiting an authentic, non-gentrified Shikumen compound packed with multiple working-class families. The visual was striking: a wall densely cluster-mounted with individual water meters—one for every single room. While tenants historically shared public sinks, modern renovations have given each room its own dedicated meter, allowing neighbors to live packed shoulder-to-shoulder without encroaching on each other's private affairs.
This architectural compression directly forged the legendary Shanghainese psychological makeup: a profound, almost instinctive sense of interpersonal boundaries and meticulous calculation. As Zhou Yijun observes, the unspoken social contract is simple: "I won't take advantage of you, and you shouldn't take advantage of me." She recalls that while her parents offered few grand life lectures, one financial principle was drilled into her: if you borrow money, you must repay it within 24 hours, and when lending, "lend to those in a rush, not the poor" (救急不救穷)—help someone facing an urgent emergency, but never lend to someone chronically destitute without means of repayment.
Dou Wentao notes that the petty-bourgeois (小资) attitude toward outsiders must be understood dialectically. While outsiders often sense a degree of regional snobbery, Shanghainese genuinely perceive outsiders as "unreliable" by Beijing standards because Shanghainese adhere to rigorous personal standards and established rules. Dou describes his own experience as a "rough Northerner" spending several days alongside a Shanghainese friend. He felt like an unsteady toddler struggling to walk next to an adult, constantly dazzled by their clarity, forward planning, and sharp practical logic:
- Multi-family Shikumen residences required dense rows of distinct water meters to eliminate shared-cost friction among cohabitating households.
- Zhou Yijun’s household rule: 24-hour loan repayment and lending strictly for emergencies rather than sustained poverty.
- Cultural contrast: Northern nonchalance and broad-stroke living versus the Shanghainese reputation for being exacting, rule-bound, and clear-headed.
---
[12:00](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=720s) The Allure and Alienation of Modern Shanghai
Dou Wentao poses a dilemma to novelist Jin Yucheng and journalist Zhou Yijun regarding the outsider’s paradoxical relationship with contemporary Shanghai. On paper, Shanghai seems irresistible: friends like Ma Weidu constantly praise it, urbanites flock there for weekend getaways, culinary excellence far outstrips Beijing, and the urban landscape—with its soaring skyscrapers, vibrant street-level vitality, leafy French plane trees (梧桐树), and walkable avenues—makes one want to move there immediately. Yet, beneath the city's cosmopolitan charm lies an unmistakable, chilling detachment. The local demeanor is defined by a cool, impenetrable politeness and rigid personal boundaries that can leave an outsider feeling profoundly isolated and unable to establish a true emotional connection.
Jin Yucheng and the panel explain that this self-contained, keep-to-oneself temperament was an evolutionary adaptation to historic crises. Originally designed for single affluent households, Shikumen residences became hyper-crowded tenements after the Battle of Shanghai during the August 13th Incident (八一三事变) in 1937. As war swept the region, waves of refugees flooded the relative safety of the Shanghai foreign concessions (租界). Landlords subdivided every available corner to rent out space. Forced to live on top of one another under abnormal, traumatic conditions, residents survived by cultivating rigorous personal detachment, minding their own business, and strictly avoiding interference in their neighbors' lives.
- Culinary and aesthetic pull: High dining standards, French plane trees, and walkable streetscapes make Shanghai deeply attractive to visitors.
- Emotional detachment: Politeness functions as a defensive buffer, leaving outsiders feeling a distinct sense of inaccessibility and loneliness.
- Historical origin: The 1937 August 13th Incident forced massive nationwide refugee flows into the foreign concessions, creating hyper-crowded multi-tenant living conditions where survival depended on emotional distance and strict personal boundaries.
---
[14:05](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=845s) Lost in Translation: Long Roads, Taxi Cabs, and "Big" vs. "Small" Turns
Ma Weidu shares his early encounters with Shanghai in the 1980s, illustrating the stark contrast between northern and southern urban geography. His first trip was a literary pilgrimage to visit the Shanghai Writers' Association (上海市作家协会) located at No. 675 Julu Road (巨鹿路675号). He quickly discovered that while Beijing hutongs and alleys can be traversed in ten minutes, Shanghai roads are deceptive and interminably long—one can walk until their ankles give out and still remain far from their destination.
The geographical shock was compounded by a formidable language barrier. In the early 1980s, cab driving was a prestigious, lucrative profession monopolized by locals who often spoke little to no Mandarin. Ma Weidu recounts hopping into a Shanghai taxi and attempting to speak slow, clear Mandarin, instructing the driver to "turn right." The local driver responded with what sounded phonetically to northern ears like "turn left" (*zuowei*), triggering a comedic loop of mutual incomprehension where Ma thought the driver was willfully defying him.
The misunderstanding stemmed from Shanghai’s distinct driving idiom. Locals rarely navigate by cardinal directions like "north" or "south," nor do they typically say "left" and "right" in traffic; instead, they refer to turns based on traffic flow geometry:
- **Big Turn** (大转, *da zhuan*): A left turn, which crosses oncoming traffic in a wide arc.
- **Small Turn** (小转, *xiao zhuan*): A right turn, which makes a tight curve directly into the nearest lane.
The cab driver was simply confirming the right turn by saying "small turn," which sounded confusingly like "left" to an unaccustomed outsider.
---
[16:16](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=976s) The Fading Voice: Homogenization and the Crisis of the Shanghai Dialect
Zhou Yijun shifts the mood to genuine melancholy, noting that the linguistic divide Ma Weidu experienced has now vanished into an opposite, tragic extreme: the slow death of the Shanghainese dialect. Today, even when walking through the heart of downtown Shanghai, locals hesitate to speak their mother tongue because retail workers and pedestrians often do not understand it. Mandarin has become the default opening line everywhere.
```mermaid
flowchart TD
accTitle: Linguistic and Cultural Homogenization of Modern Shanghai
accDescr: Diagram tracing how nationwide Mandarin promotion and urban standardization lead to the erosion of regional dialect and cultural identity.
subgraph Drivers["Institutional & Demographic Shifts"]
M["Mandarin-Only Education (4+ Generations)"]
R["Post-Reform Nationwide Migration"]
end
subgraph UrbanErosion["Urban Homogenization"]
A["Standardized Architecture Nationwide"]
L["Disappearance of Local Tongues in Public Spaces"]
end
subgraph CulturalLoss["Loss of Regional Identity"]
V["Loss of Native Lexicon ('Pijiazi', 'Chaopiao')"]
G["Generational Severance (Youth Understand but Cannot Speak)"]
I["Erosion of Shanghai's Unique Cultural Personality"]
end
Drivers --> UrbanErosion
UrbanErosion --> CulturalLoss
```
The panel reflects on how standardized language strips away a city’s unique soul. If a blind person were brought into a modern Chinese metropolis today, they could no longer identify where they were, because from Guangzhou to Shanghai, the acoustic landscape is uniformly Mandarin, mirroring the nationwide standardization of generic modern architecture. As Jin Yucheng stresses, dialects are not mere regional accents or phonetic inflections—a northern Hebei accent is easily understood by a Beijinger—but entirely distinct vocabulary systems containing unique worldviews:
- Shanghainese uses "pijiazi" (皮夹子) rather than the standard Mandarin word for wallet.
- Paper currency or money is referred to as "chaopiao" (钞票) rather than standard terms.
- Older working-class colloquialisms like "dongdithong" captured specific everyday realities of keeping coins loose in trousers.
Because a people’s personality is bound to their language, the erosion of the dialect threatens the very essence of Shanghainese identity. With the post-80s and post-90s generations frequently speaking Mandarin among themselves, unable to nail authentic Shanghainese pronunciations and often limited to passive listening comprehension, Jin Yucheng and Zhou Yijun lament that the living dialect is rapidly fading into extinction.
[18:41](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=1121s) The Decline of Shanghai Dialect and the Influx of Outsiders
The discussion opens with a stark observation about the rapid disappearance of the Shanghai dialect: younger people "can understand it but not speak it," and by the next generation, it risks vanishing altogether. The root causes trace back to the property boom of the 1990s, when wealthy magnates from across China flooded into Shanghai, buying up dozens of residential units at a time. Simultaneously, massive municipal expansion brought an influx of government officials and civil servants transferred from other provinces. As these two demographic waves converged on Shanghai, the linguistic landscape shifted drastically. In schools, the nationwide mandate to "Please speak Mandarin" took firm hold, and entering modern commercial office buildings today means hearing Mandarin almost exclusively. From the newcomers' perspective, this feels entirely natural: having been educated in Mandarin, they wonder why moving to a city should obligate them to adopt a regional dialect.
This dynamic marks a complete rupture from traditional urban migration. Back in the 1920s and 1930s, standard mercantile wisdom dictated learning the local tongue wherever one set up business—a classic case of "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." In that earlier era, intellectuals, traders, and laborers trickled in gradually from places like Shandong, Suzhou, and Ningbo, weaving a tapestry of distinct accents rather than an abrupt linguistic replacement. Acknowledging that "the mountains cannot block the river from flowing eastward," the speakers note that this homogenization is a global urban trend. Dou Wentao recalls his seven years working in Guangzhou two decades ago, where Mandarin was confined entirely within the walls of the Guangdong Radio station compound while the outside streets ran on Cantonese; today, even Guangzhou's streets are dominated by Mandarin.
While native Shanghainese understandably feel an ache of cultural loss and nostalgia, the speakers argue that clinging to exclusion is untenable. Population mobility cannot be reversed. One speaker remarks that if family elders were to fulfill their wish to "drive the 'outsiders' away," he would have no friends left in the city, as nearly all of his social circle now hails from out of town. Some residents living in the city center can spend an entire month without running into a single native Shanghainese speaker. Back during college years, bringing a friend from Northeast China to Shanghai meant they would pick up comprehension within a week simply from ambient exposure; today, newcomers can live in Shanghai for years without ever learning, simply because the local dialect is rarely heard in public life.
[21:33](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=1293s) Pursuing Flavor: From Chen Xiaoqing to Terroir and Philosophy
The conversation pivots from language preservation to the culinary pursuit of taste, exploring what it really means to "seek flavors." Some food lovers push this hunt to radical extremes, exemplified by documentary filmmaker Chen Xiaoqing. For Xiaoqing, pursuing flavor does not mean simply chasing universally pleasing, sweet, or fragrant notes; it means hunting down unique, eccentric, and challenging flavor profiles that ordinary diners might dismiss as bitter or unpleasantly pungent. Human taste buds naturally appreciate sweetness and pleasant aromas, but true appreciation often delves into far more complex territories.
This philosophy is mirrored by a tea master in Taiwan. Taiwanese tea culture places an immense emphasis on basic cleanliness and hygiene, but beyond that baseline, this artisan maintains that every tea carries an intrinsic, unrepeatable personality. The same insight was echoed by a sommelier, elevating tasting into an existential encounter: what one drinks is the exact soil, rainfall, wind, and air of that specific year, all absorbed and concentrated into the leaves or grapes. When you take a sip, you are literally tasting "the heaven and earth of that year." Viewed this way, whether an vintage tastes conventionally pleasant is secondary—if a batch tastes rough or strange, that very bitterness is the honest reflection of what nature bestowed that season.
The speakers contrast this organic appreciation with the artificial hierarchies imposed by commercial culture. Star ratings and Michelin-style scores are commercial inventions designed to guide anxious consumers who want to avoid making mistakes, yet they detach people from their own genuine palates. Food, at its core, is inherently democratic and equal. Commercial marketing invents scarcity out of everyday staples to justify exorbitant markups. Even when an artisan experiences a fifty-percent failure rate, it does not mean everyday foods lack standards: cheap street foods—such as traditional Hong Kong-style pudding cakes or deep-fried stinky tofu—have their own clear gradations of mastery and mediocrity, completely independent of how expensive they are.
[24:53](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=1493s) "Absolute Pitch" for Taste, Sommelier Hypnosis, and the Passion for Food
The ability to detect these nuances leads to the concept of taste sensitivity. Just as musicians possess "perfect pitch" capable of isolating any individual tone, certain individuals possess an internationally tested, certified palate. A friend of one speaker took such a sensory test and demonstrated an uncanny ability to distinguish microscopic chemical variations between two seemingly identical glasses of plain water. This friend naturally channeled his gift into running a highly successful dining establishment focused on specialty coffee.
Yet such hyper-sensitive taste can also be an avenue for pretension, leaving average people feeling unrefined and vulnerable to con artists. The speakers humorously dissect the performative hypnosis common in high-end wine tastings. A sommelier instructs the room: "At the tip of your tongue, you'll feel a bit of astringency," followed by drawing it along the sides where the astringency deepens. Susceptible to suggestion, participants dutifully nod and convince themselves they taste exactly what they were instructed to experience, turning the tasting into a psychological seminar.
Ultimately, genuine food appreciation is less about physiological perfection and far more about raw enthusiasm. A speaker contrasts two cinema experiences: Shen Teng's comedy *Hello Mr. Billionaire* and Hirokazu Kore-eda's drama *Shoplifters*. In *Hello Mr. Billionaire*, characters gorge themselves on lavish delicacies like Boston lobster, geoduck, and high-grade sashimi, yet the food feels hollow and devoid of soul. Conversely, in *Shoplifters*, the characters share an inexpensive, deep-fried street-vendor croquette with such heartfelt appetite that the speaker was immediately compelled to wander Beijing searching for a croquette shop. A similar craving occurred while watching the fried chicken scene in *Green Book*, where the actors eat KFC with infectious gusto. This pure hunger stands in sharp contrast to "cold-hearted eaters"—cynical diners who scrutinize the bill, endlessly complain about whether a dish is worth the money, and leave every meal feeling miserable.
[39:07](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=2347s) The Scarcity Mindset and Childhood Food Memories
The conversation opens with a reflection on how deeply early deprivation shapes a person's adult psychology. One of the speakers confesses that even today, whenever something truly wonderful happens, their instinct is to hide away in solitude and savor it quietly without letting anyone know. What they long assumed was a sense of guilt was later illuminated by a nature documentary about African wildlife, where a wild hunting dog buries a scrap of meat, anxiously surveys its surroundings to ensure no competitors are lurking, and only digs it up to eat slowly in secret. That defensive reaction, they note, is the quintessential "psychology of scarcity."
Chen Xiaoqing’s childhood was largely defined by that very struggle of never having quite enough to eat. Another speaker recalls having had even fewer opportunities as a child, noting that their parents gave them pocket money exactly once in their entire life—a grand total of five cents—making any indulgent food memories virtually impossible. The table explores this peculiar emotional baggage: the haunting sensation that enjoying something delicious feels almost criminal, burdened by an underlying belief that "you don't deserve it" or the paranoia that it could be snatched away at any given second.
[40:17](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=2417s) Hunger, Texture, and the "Joy of Swallowing"
The discussion shifts to whether genuine hunger is an indispensable prerequisite for culinary ecstasy. A speaker references a remark by Roland (Luo Lang), who noted that when hosting a major feast, one must provide snacks in advance so guests do not starve while waiting. Yet the speaker wonders if being ravenously hungry is actually necessary to experience peak flavor, admitting that they deliberately skip an entire meal before eating something special because nothing tastes truly great on a full stomach.
The guests observe that this highlights a profound historical difference between the East and the West: historically, Westerners rarely faced the prolonged, widespread material shortages that East Asians experienced. Drawing on insights from psychologist Chen Li, the table examines two compelling theories about appetite and culture:
- **Oral stage deprivation:** Children whose oral needs were thwarted or unsatisfied during early development frequently grow up fixated on food, often becoming gourmets, passionate foodies, or even culinary documentary directors.
- **Mouthfeel and tactile detail:** Because of material limitations, Chinese culinary tradition developed an exceptionally refined vocabulary for texture—the springiness against the teeth, gelatinous bites, and sensations of ingredients melting on the tongue—nuances rarely given equal weight in Western cooking.
- **The "joy of swallowing":** Beyond mere taste, certain hunting tribes and resource-scarce agrarian peoples find profound physiological pleasure simply in the physical act of swallowing large mouthfuls of food, a visceral satisfaction documented by authors like Cai.
[42:27](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=2547s) The Three Plates of Chao Bing in a Downpour
Dou Wentao cheerfully disqualifies himself from being considered a refined gourmet, admitting that his greatest culinary pleasure is simply wolfing food down in massive, unrestrained gulps. He shares what remains his all-time favorite childhood food memory: *chao bing* (stir-fried shredded pancakes). Having been deprived of it as a young boy, the moment he finally tasted proper chao bing—oily, shredded flatbread stir-fried with crisp cabbage, dried chilies, and chili oil for just a few cents or two yuan a plate—he became completely obsessed, eating it every single day for an entire month.
```mermaid
flowchart TD
accTitle: The Two Poles of Scarcity-Driven Personality
accDescr: Diagram illustrating how childhood food deprivation splits into two opposing personality traits: secretive withdrawal and all-in indulgence.
subgraph Deprivation["Childhood Food Scarcity"]
Hunger["Material Shortage & Oral Deprivation"]
end
subgraph DualPoles["The Resulting Psychological Poles"]
Withdrawn["Withdrawn / Secretive Pole
• Eats quietly in hiding
• Guarded like a wild animal
• Constant fear of loss"]
Unrestrained["Bold / Unrestrained Pole
• All-in feast behavior
• Smashing piggy bank
• Wolfing down three plates"]
end
Hunger --> Withdrawn
Hunger --> Unrestrained
```
The obsession culminated on an afternoon of torrential rain. When his parents refused to give him money, he took matters into his own hands: he smashed his piggy bank, scooped up every coin he owned in an "all-in" gamble of his entire childhood net worth, and stormed out into the storm. Despite floodwaters rising to knee level, he marched through the deluge, entered the shop soaked to the skin, and defiantly ordered three full plates just to prove a point. The table compares this frantic, hungry embrace of life to the famous scene in Hirokazu Kore-eda’s film *Shoplifters*, where the characters eagerly slurp down piping-hot croquettes—a ravenous hunger driven by sheer survival.
[44:36](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=2676s) The "Potlatch" Personality and Roland the Food Geographer
Reflecting on these contrasting stories of eating bananas in hiding versus splurging on three plates of stir-fried pancakes, Dou Wentao observes how diet shapes personality into two opposing poles. On one end lies extreme withdrawal—living like a guarded thief, concealing everything from others, and nibbling in private. On the other end lies unrestrained extravagance, a desire for total abundance and excess. The table notes that this mirrors the anthropological concept of the "potlatch," seen across agrarian societies and Native American tribes, where wealth and food are heaped into colossal, insurmountable piles to be shared and displayed.
The conversation turns to welcoming Roland (Luo Lang), with Chen Xiaoqing distinguishing between their roles: while Chen considers himself an industry professional, he describes Roland as an authentic foodie and cultural human geographer. Roland does not merely cook; every dish is backed by a deep geographic and historical narrative of American regional foodways from north to south. Having spent years trekking into remote Chinese mountains and hinterlands to forage local ingredients and study grassroots eating habits, Roland is jokingly dubbed both an "American Li Shizhen" and a modern-day "Shennong."
[45:46](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=2746s) Tasting Cinnamon Rolls and Mesoamerican Blue Corn
Roland presents several traditional dishes he has brought to the table. As the guests dig in, Dou Wentao jokingly admonishes Chen Xiaoqing to chew with his mouth closed, recalling how difficult Chen's noisy chewing was to edit in previous audio mixes—quipping that it sounded like "a pig's trotter being pulled out of a pig pen." The tasting menu bridges Old World European roots and New World indigenous traditions:
- **Cinnamon Rolls:** Intensely fragrant, sweet, and traditionally eaten for breakfast. Roland explains that this sourdough-based pastry culture migrated from Old World Europe (Germany and France). It was preserved in the American Northeast by religious groups like the Anabaptists who arrived in the 1600s seeking religious freedom. To protect their traditional heritage, these communities famously rejected modern technologies—eschewing electricity, television, and contemporary medicine—and kept historic baking techniques alive.
- **Blue Corn Puree Wrapped in Husks:** Resembling regional street foods from Sichuan, Guizhou, and Yunnan, this dish features corn puree wrapped tightly inside dried corn husks. The guests are amazed to find that such a preparation is native to the Americas rather than southwest China.
[47:43](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=2863s) How New World Crops Reshaped Chinese Demographics
Roland explains that while modern commercial agriculture relies on just a handful of varieties like sweet corn, hundreds of indigenous corn varieties originally flourished throughout Mesoamerica—modern-day Mexico and the American Southwest (Texas and Arizona). For the Aztecs, corn was far more than sustenance; it was a sacred offering sacrificed to the gods to secure good weather and auspicious fortune.
Chen Xiaoqing and the panel place this humble husk-wrapped snack into a sweeping historical framework:
- Corn, potatoes, and sweet potatoes were New World crops that entered Ming dynasty China around 1550, initially introduced through Portuguese maritime trade.
- In southwest China, street vendors still wrap seasonal waxy or sweet corn in triangular husks, unaware that the technique mirrors ancestral Mesoamerican traditions.
- The arrival of these hardy, high-yield New World crops fundamentally disrupted East Asia's land-to-population ratio, opening marginal mountainous lands to cultivation.
- This agricultural revolution triggered an unprecedented population boom across China, creating immense demographic pressure that ultimately drove massive waves of migration from the southeast coast down into Southeast Asia.
With the corn finished, the table turns its focus toward the centerpiece of Roland's culinary work: an inch-thick book he authored on American meat and barbecue culture. Insisting on proper ritual and anticipation, Dou Wentao invites Chen Xiaoqing to examine the tome before the meat itself is unveiled.
[01:01:46](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=3706s) Shanghai Fashion, Daring Mothers, and the Street Pajama Culture
The conversation turns to Shanghai's historic role as the cradle of fashion and personal style. One speaker recalls how deeply their mother pursued fashion when they were young, remembering that getting a perm was an enormous cultural event—so much so that by age six, their mother was already curling their hair too. Mothers and aunts at the time exhibited an astonishing willingness to indulge themselves: a mother would readily blow an entire month’s salary on a single pair of leather shoes, whether made of cowhide or sheepskin. Other women in the neighborhood did the same, thinking nothing of spending a full month's earnings on one garment or pair of shoes, a degree of self-indulgence that seems almost unimaginable in retrospect.
Yet Shanghai has always possessed a dual nature. Alongside this uncompromising pursuit of glamour existed the city's notorious street-level habit: people casually strolling around public alleys wearing pajamas and pajama pants. While outsiders might view this as vulgar or unseemly, the speakers note that pajamas were actually among the few items of clothing that featured patterned textiles—stripes and plaids—at a time when ordinary daytime clothes were uniformly drab. Furthermore, living conditions dictated the habit: the average per-capita living space in Shanghai back then was a mere four square meters. Without private living rooms, stepping outside meant stepping directly into the communal lane, which functioned as the extended living room for everyone.
Because domestic space was so cramped, privacy was virtually nonexistent. Front doors in Shanghai alleyways remained wide open throughout the day, and neighbors drifted freely in and out of one another’s rooms without knocking, whether the family inside was eating dinner or having an argument. Wearing pajamas out on the street was neither an act of defiance nor a sign of neglect; it was an unspoken communal code where no one judged another, because everyone shared the exact same tight domestic reality.
- **Per-capita living area:** Approximately 4 square meters per person in typical Shanghai residential quarters during that period.
- **Communal boundary:** The alleyway (*longtang*) served as the functional living room, erasing the line between public street and private home.
- **Patterned clothing:** In an era devoid of decorative patterns on regular attire, striped and plaid pajama sets were among the rare garments offering visual design.
```mermaid
flowchart TD
accTitle: Living Space and Pajama Culture in Old Shanghai
accDescr: How cramped housing created the custom of wearing pajamas in alleyways
subgraph Housing["Domestic Constraints"]
A["Living space ~4 sq meters"] --> B["Absence of private living rooms"]
end
subgraph Communal["The Alleyway as Living Room"]
B --> C["Open-door alleyway life"]
C --> D["Public lane functions as common parlor"]
end
subgraph Fashion["Dress Norms"]
D --> E["Pajamas become accepted street attire"]
F["Pajamas offer rare stripes/plaids"] --> E
end
```
---
[01:04:08](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=3848s) The Arrival of Cosmetics, Water Heaters, and Working-Class Elegance
The panel traces the concrete timeline of modern beauty culture entering mainland China. Around 1993, high-end international fashion brands had not yet brought ready-to-wear clothing lines to ordinary consumers because the garments were prohibitively expensive. Instead, prestige brands made their initial inroads through cosmetics—and specifically through lipstick rather than the elaborate, multi-step skincare and makeup routines commonplace today.
```mermaid
flowchart LR
accTitle: Phased Arrival of Modern Grooming in 1990s Shanghai
accDescr: Timeline showing the entry of lipstick, water heaters, and perfume
A["Early 1990s: Lipstick arrives"] --> B["1994-1995: Water heaters enter homes"]
B --> C["Mid-1990s: Perfume becomes practical"]
```
Perfume arrived later, constrained by the practical infrastructure of daily domestic life. Around 1993, ordinary Shanghai residences still lacked home water heaters, meaning residents could not take daily hot showers. Applying perfume without the ability to bathe cleanly produced lingering scents that simply layered over body heat and sweat—echoing, as one speaker jokes, the historical origin of European perfume as a means to mask body odor. It was only around 1994 or 1995, as domestic gas and electric water heaters became widely installed in urban homes, that daily bathing and perfume became meaningful parts of everyday life.
This passion for grooming was by no means confined to an intellectual elite or the wealthy. One speaker shares a vivid childhood memory of the mother of a close friend: a woman already in her fifties who applied lipstick and meticulously penciled her eyebrows every single morning before going to work. She was an authentic, frontline blue-collar worker at the Shanghai Shenxin Textile Mill (*申新纺织厂*). Renowned as a master craftswoman, she could chat effortlessly while measuring fabric without ever getting a dimension wrong. Even in post-liberation socialist Shanghai, female textile factory workers preserved a quiet tradition of putting on makeup and stepping out with dignity.
- **1993:** High-end cosmetics enter the market, dominated almost exclusively by lipstick.
- **1994–1995:** Domestic water heaters become common in Shanghai households, unlocking daily showers and paving the way for perfume consumption.
- **Working-class style:** Senior female workers at historic factories like the Shenxin Textile Mill maintained daily makeup rituals (lipstick and drawn eyebrows) as an integral part of factory life.
---
[01:06:03](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=3963s) The Aesthetic Impact of Returning from Japan vs. North America
Reflecting on Wong Kar-wai's television series *Blossoms Shanghai* (*繁花*), the discussion touches on the character Lingzi returning from Tokyo, which sparks an analysis of the distinct cultural imprints left on Shanghainese who went abroad in the late 1980s and 1990s. While many locals immigrated to North America, Europe, or Australia, those who spent time working in Japan brought back a strikingly different personal aesthetic, marked by meticulous daily makeup and an acute attention to personal grooming.
The speakers contrast the cultural environments of the United States and Japan. Life in America is described as vast, casual, and forgiving: people generally do not dress up for daily errands, and there is virtually no societal pressure compelling a person to transform their appearance. Unless living in a fashion capital like New York, immigrants to North America tended to retain the exact same casual presentation they had when they left.
In Tokyo, by contrast, urban refinement and meticulous grooming were unavoidable. Even if an overseas worker was merely doing manual labor or odd jobs, daily survival required navigating an urban landscape where subways and streets seamlessly threaded through multi-story department stores. The intense social expectation of grooming in urban Asia exerted an irresistible molding effect, ensuring that anyone returning from Japan carried home an indelible habit of everyday refinement.
## Notable quotes
> [01:47](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=107s) Are you finished yet? Are you done yet?
> [06:05](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tY97TZ8LMwk&t=365s) It's not worth it, it's not worth it. — 许子东
[1:47] Are you finished yet? Are you done yet?
[6:05] 许子东: It's not worth it, it's not worth it.
[8:58] 周轶君: 我不占你便宜,你也别占我便宜。
[8:58] 周轶君父母: 救急不救穷
[18:41] 青山遮不住,毕竟东流去
[21:33] 那一年的天地
[31:50] 您昨天没来,我特意从新发地给您留了极新鲜的笋!
[33:27] 陈晓卿母亲: 千万别跟别人走,哪怕别人给你再好吃的东西也绝不能去。
[33:27] 陈晓卿: 那个拿好吃的东西来拐骗我的坏人,怎么到现在还不来?!
[51:00] 比尔·盖茨: Oh, surprise
[55:20] 陈丹青: 在上海像个陌生人,在任何地方都像个陌生人
[57:15] 窦文涛: 这真是艺术家的理由
Original transcript
[0:00] For example, if Shanghainese people
[0:02] today call you an "outsider,"
[0:03] isn't there a bit of a condescending
[0:06] tone to it?
[0:07] Nowadays, it seems intellectuals in
[0:09] Shanghai don't really use the term "
[0:12] outsider"; that usually comes from the
[0:14] lower-class city dwellers.
[0:16] Hmm,
[0:17] only those in the working-class strata
[0:19] would say it like that.
[0:20] Northerners are like this; northerners
[0:22] are rough. They can't stand how
[0:24] meticulous Shanghainese people are.
[0:25] Shanghainese are so detail-oriented in
[0:27] everything they do. For instance, the
[0:29] most striking example of this for me
[0:30] was the "half-liang" food stamp. Back
[0:32] in the day, if you went to Shanghai and
[0:33] saw half a liang, you’d be stunned,
[0:34] wondering what you could even buy with
[0:35] that.
[0:36] Is this "half-liang" really proof of
[0:37] Shanghainese meticulousness? Right?
[0:39] Only Shanghai had it.
[0:41] Because the one who mentioned this
[0:42] half-liang food stamp the most was Lao
[0:44] She's son; he talked about it often.
[0:45] Hmm,
[0:46] I’ve also written articles about this
[0:48] online. Because I lived in the North
[0:50] for many years, for a long time. In
[0:51] terms of their...
[0:53] So, the North and the South—or rather
[0:55] , the North and Shanghai—actually
[0:58] have many...
[0:59] different living habits. What does the
[1:02] "half-liang" actually mean? It means
[1:04] Shanghai had these half-liang items,
[1:06] while Beijing didn't back when things
[1:08] were rationed.
[1:08] It's just rough, we call it rough.
[1:10] For example, a small bowl of wontons is
[1:12] half a liang. Hmm,
[1:14] so in the afternoon, you could have a
[1:16] small bowl of wontons or a mooncake,
[1:17] and a single mooncake would be sold by
[1:19] the liang. But in the North, they sold
[1:21] cakes in bulk—they sold by the jin,
[1:23] like "give me three jin of mooncakes."
[1:24] Hmm,
[1:26] For instance, with fried dough sticks,
[1:27] you'd order "two jin of dough sticks."
[1:29] But in Shanghai, you’d buy just one
[1:31] piece, which was half a liang, and buy
[1:33] it individually. Buying individually
[1:35] was quite early in Shanghai, so back
[1:37] then a Northerner would be seen as
[1:39] funny; they'd joke, "Give me a bowl of
[1:41] wontons," and end up with 20 bowls
[1:43] brought out in front of them.
[1:44] Because in the North, everything was
[1:46] ordered in large quantities.
[1:47] Still, Shanghainese are meticulous. For
[1:50] example, back in my early years going
[1:52] to Shanghai—and I went there quite
[1:53] often—using public phones was common,
[1:55] right?
[1:55] Making a call in Beijing versus making
[1:57] a call in Shanghai, there was something
[1:59] very interesting. There would always be
[2:01] an old lady hovering right next to you,
[2:03] waiting for the phone. Sometimes when I
[2:05] was making calls, I'd finish with one
[2:06] person, then I'd call someone else,
[2:07] making consecutive calls, right? Before
[2:09] you’d even finished one call, she’d
[2:11] be tapping on you and speaking in
[2:12] Shanghainese, saying, "Are you finished
[2:14] yet?""Are you done yet?"
[2:16] At first, I didn't understand it.
[2:18] I just felt like she was constantly
[2:20] trying to annoy me. Take making phone
[2:22] calls for commission, you want to
[2:23] finish them all quickly for high
[2:25] efficiency, and the system keeps
[2:26] prompting you on how many you've made.
[2:28] In Beijing, no one would prompt you; if
[2:29] they did, you'd start a fight, asking "
[2:31] What are you trying to do?"
[2:32] I'm just making a call, aren't you just
[2:34] causing trouble? But in Shanghai, don't
[2:36] you find people very practical? One,
[2:38] two, three—they add it up for you
[2:40] right then and there.
[2:41] A classmate of mine in Shanghai once
[2:43] told me that a taxi driver didn't want
[2:46] to take them because he was about to
[2:48] clock out and go home, saying "Look,
[2:50] it's time for me to go home, I even
[2:52] bought crabs to eat," and he started
[2:54] taking the bag out. But nowadays,
[2:57] seeing so much online, I really think
[3:00] in our current era of dieting, Shanghai
[3:03] people are just great. Their whole
[3:07] approach—you don't need to eat that
[3:09] many crabs, you know what I mean? You
[3:11] don't need to, and Shanghai people buy
[3:14] groceries...
[3:15] There are no such small portions in the
[3:17] North; they really just grab a tiny
[3:19] handful. Isn't that actually just what
[3:21] you're going to eat? I think this
[3:22] aligns well with today's lifestyle and
[3:24] is environmentally friendly.
[3:25] Many things in Shanghai can't be stored
[3:27] because it's hot and humid.
[3:28] What is it? I've lived in the North;
[3:31] when autumn comes, there are no produce
[3:32] markets in the winter. Beijing didn't
[3:34] have them either.
[3:35] Right.
[3:36] So we would be rationed vegetables.
[3:39] Families would have hundreds of pounds
[3:40] of Chinese cabbage, and workplaces
[3:41] would distribute potatoes and such to
[3:43] get through the winter. But because
[3:44] Shanghai has a mild climate, these
[3:46] small produce markets are right next
[3:48] door; there's a market right beside my
[3:51] house, sometimes even in a storefront.
[3:53] They just buy a little bit of stuff and
[3:55] cook it. Back then, there were no
[3:57] refrigerators at home, so they would
[3:59] buy things in very small amounts to
[4:01] ensure everything was fresh, which they
[4:03] could do thanks to the conditions.
[4:05] Go and observe, is it true that
[4:07] Shanghai people have smaller appetites
[4:09] and eat less?
[4:10] Appetite, appetite.
[4:12] Northerners are a bit smaller, just a
[4:15] little bit. They are definitely a bit
[4:16] smaller; in Shanghai, it's that they
[4:18] serve less food, not that people have
[4:19] small appetites. I know, because I went
[4:21] to Shanghai in my early years.
[4:23] There is a traditional Chinese dish
[4:24] found in both the North and the South:
[4:26] hairtail fish. Braised hairtail.
[4:28] Because when we were young, the only
[4:30] fish available in all of China were
[4:32] hairtail and yellow croaker; we didn't
[4:34] even know what grouper or other fish
[4:36] were. When Northerners serve hairtail,
[4:38] they usually cut it. Two inches would
[4:40] be considered stingy; they’d cut a
[4:41] large piece three inches long, just
[4:43] chop it right up. No matter if it's
[4:44] braised or deep-fried, in Shanghai,
[4:46] they slice it at an angle.
[4:47] Yeah, when we were kids, it was always
[4:49] sliced at an angle. The first time I
[4:52] saw it sliced at an angle, I felt kind
[4:54] of insulted. I said, "You give me, you
[4:56] give me a piece," and they sliced it at
[4:58] an angle. Then my brain quickly
[5:00] realized, it's just sliced at an angle
[5:01] to look bigger, but there isn't much
[5:03] there, right?
[5:04] They slice it at an angle, so it’s
[5:06] special. Because this hairtail, the way
[5:08] we eat it is, you take this big piece
[5:10] and use your teeth to bite off that top
[5:13] layer, the dorsal fin part—that's the
[5:15] prickliest part. You have to slice it
[5:17] at an angle, otherwise, it has many
[5:19] broken bones; if you slice it straight,
[5:21] if you slice the hairtail straight, the
[5:22] bones aren't broken, but if you slice
[5:24] it at an angle, there are lots of
[5:26] broken bones in the meat. It's annoying
[5:28] and hard to eat.
[5:30] I think your analysis of this matter is
[5:33] very Shanghainese.
[5:34] Living in Shanghai, just
[5:36] your foundation is still Shanghainese,
[5:39] born in Shanghai.
[5:40] Every local person would ponder this.
[5:42] I always ponder this, why slice it at
[5:45] an angle? Every custom must have a
[5:46] reason; maybe slicing it at an angle
[5:48] makes it look like more—you see,
[5:49] there are many things like that.
[5:51] This is the first time I've heard this,
[5:53] teacher; it’s very interesting.
[5:54] Things we’ve become accustomed to,
[5:56] they see from a different perspective.
[5:58] Like a few days ago, I was with someone
[6:00] from the 90s, a "Guangdong-to-Shanghai"
[6:02] person, there are many of them in
[6:04] Shanghai now.
[6:05] Then they told me about that detail,
[6:07] and I was quite shocked too. I felt
[6:09] like I had never thought about it. I
[6:10] said, "You take the subway, and when
[6:12] you reach your stop," he said the
[6:13] person behind you will tap you and ask,
[6:14] "Are you getting off or not?""If you're
[6:16] not getting off, let’s swap places,
[6:17] or just let me pass." In other words,
[6:19] he was surprised by this sense of order
[6:20] Shanghainese people have. It’s that
[6:22] you
[6:23] there's something hidden here called
[6:25] efficiency.
[6:26] I mean, they anticipate and plan toward
[6:28] high efficiency, thinking it through
[6:29] clearly.
[6:30] I said when I was a kid, there were no
[6:31] subways; we took buses, and it was
[6:33] always like this. Before arriving at
[6:34] the stop, everyone would automatically
[6:36] swap positions.
[6:37] Positions all swapped and ready. Yeah,
[6:39] isn't that a very natural thing?
[6:42] Because this place, Shanghai, when it
[6:45] first started to develop—I once read
[6:47] in a document that before the
[6:49] concessions were established in
[6:51] Shanghai, the old city of Shanghai
[6:54] actually lacked a concept of a city. On
[6:59] rainy days, it would be extremely muddy
[7:02] , and the wealthy would just take a
[7:04] sedan chair or a horse-drawn carriage.
[7:07] But when they went outside and saw the
[7:09] concessions—the main roads in the
[7:11] International Settlement, the main
[7:13] roads in the French Concession, and the
[7:16] numbered roads from one to four. They
[7:18] were stunned; Western developments were
[7:21] coming in, and the roads were so smooth
[7:24] and level. How could these carriages
[7:26] have springs and be so light and
[7:28] convenient? As for the houses along
[7:31] these newly developed roads, they began
[7:34] building these Shikumen houses that
[7:36] blended Chinese and Western styles.
[7:41] Everything was better than the old city
[7:43] , so this contrast, as Mr. Zhu Xingjian
[7:46] said, was that as soon as he boarded
[7:48] the train from Nanjing and heard the
[7:51] Shanghainese talking, the phrase he
[7:53] always heard was "is it worth it?"
[7:57] Hearing that sound, he knew he was
[7:59] about to reach Shanghai.
[8:00] That’s what it means; they are always
[8:03] in this state of comparison. The
[8:05] Shanghainese here are special; they
[8:07] don't say much on the surface, but
[8:09] inside, they are calculating.
[8:11] Take our Professor Xu Zidong, for
[8:13] example; if you stay with him for a few
[8:14] days, the most frequently used phrase
[8:16] is "it's not worth it, it's not worth
[8:18] it, it's not worth it."
[8:19] Exactly.
[8:20] That’s just how it is.
[8:22] So, this made me think of a question:
[8:24] in the context of Chinese tradition
[8:27] from the past to the present, Shanghai
[8:30] is probably the only place where such a
[8:32] unique architectural anomaly appeared.
[8:35] Look at Beijing; it’s always been
[8:37] courtyard houses, but in Shanghai, you
[8:40] get the Shikumen.
[8:41] These Shikumen houses, you could say
[8:44] they are neither purely Chinese nor
[8:46] Western; they have Chinese
[8:48] characteristics, yet they feature many
[8:50] Western decorative patterns, with a
[8:52] large number built back in the 1920s
[8:54] and 30s. This has a representative
[8:58] meaning; it’s like Shanghai added
[9:00] this new category of housing,
[9:02] representing its architectural response
[9:04] to modern Western and foreign cultural
[9:07] influences. They really knew how to
[9:10] utilize space; Shikumen are incredible
[9:12] at space utilization. I’ve actually
[9:14] stayed in one recently, a hotel that
[9:16] was converted from a Shikumen. You
[9:18] enter a very small courtyard, and then
[9:21] it’s three stories stacked upward;
[9:23] the small spaces at the bottom are tiny
[9:25] , but they make such great use of the
[9:27] area. When I was filming there last
[9:30] time, I visited a Shikumen that wasn't
[9:32] for the wealthy; it was home to many
[9:35] families. I saw it with my own eyes—
[9:38] good heavens, the water meters were
[9:40] packed densely, one for each room. Back
[9:43] then, they had public sinks, but now
[9:45] every room has its own meter, and they
[9:47] truly can live side-by-side without
[9:49] infringing upon one another.
[9:51] Well, I guess I'll have to get this
[9:53] written down.
[9:54] That’s how Shanghai people ended up
[9:56] the way they are.
[9:57] I think I calculate things very clearly
[9:59] .
[9:59] Right, the sense of boundaries is very
[10:02] strong.
[10:02] It’s like, I won't take advantage of
[10:04] you, and you shouldn't take advantage
[10:06] of me. Growing up in my family, I
[10:08] don’t remember much of my parents’
[10:10] teachings, but I do remember one thing
[10:12] they kept repeating. If you borrow
[10:14] money, you must return it within 24
[10:16] hours, and when you lend money, lend to
[10:19] those in a rush, not the poor. If
[10:20] someone needs money urgently, you can
[10:22] lend it; but if they are poor and have
[10:24] nothing, you definitely shouldn't.
[10:26] Often, as you just mentioned, for the
[10:29] petty-bourgeoisie in Shanghai, their
[10:31] attitude toward outsiders needs to be
[10:34] viewed dialectically. On one hand,
[10:37] there might be some discrimination, but
[10:39] on the other hand, they see people as "
[10:41] unreliable" by Beijing standards,
[10:44] because they have a standard.
[10:46] They feel you aren't careful or don't
[10:48] follow the rules; take me, for example,
[10:51] a rough Northerner—I remember once
[10:53] spending a few days with a Shanghainese
[10:56] person. Do you know how I felt in the
[10:59] end? A bit like a child. Like I wasn't
[11:03] even walking very steadily. They really
[11:05] are what you call "sharp" and "
[11:07] clear-headed." They plan everything
[11:09] ahead, saying, "Oh, that’s not right,
[11:11] this is not right," and I’d be
[11:13] clueless, wondering, "Why buy it here?"
[11:15] but then you realize they were right
[11:17] all along. I wondered how their minds
[11:20] could be so sharp, so I felt like a
[11:22] toddler struggling to walk. That’s
[11:24] the charm of culture; China is a vast
[11:27] country with rich languages, and local
[11:29] cultures all have their differences.
[11:33] Saying people from a certain region
[11:35] share common traits may not be strictly
[11:38] scientific, but no one can deny that
[11:40] people from the same land have a unique
[11:43] flavor. So, you see, even if you don't
[11:47] talk about the past, it’s all related
[11:49] to the past. Why does it seem like all
[11:51] my friends, including Master Ma, keep
[11:54] saying Shanghai is great, and so many
[11:56] people want to visit on weekends? But
[11:58] my feeling is...so I'd like to ask
[12:00] Professor Jin and Yi Jun, regarding
[12:03] Shanghai today, the impression it gives
[12:05] me is...
[12:06] I really want to connect with this city
[12:09] . You know? But I feel like I have no
[12:12] real connection to it. When I see this
[12:15] city, I really like it. The chance of
[12:18] finding a good restaurant here is much
[12:20] higher than in Beijing, you know? The
[12:22] food is delicious, right? There are
[12:25] skyscrapers, local life, French plane
[12:28] trees, and nice walks. I like it so
[12:31] much, I even want to live here, but
[12:33] then...
[12:34] Inevitably, you sense a kind of
[12:37] coldness, a kind of...
[12:39] Inaccessibility.
[12:40] Right, just like you said, isn't it?
[12:43] Look, every Shanghainese person I meet
[12:45] has a kind of cold politeness, or what
[12:47] you call a sense of boundaries. It’s
[12:50] all very good, right? But you always
[12:52] feel that if you really lived here,
[12:54] would it be a bit lonely? So I wonder
[12:57] about many outsiders now.
[12:58] Hmm.
[13:00] When they come to Shanghai, do they
[13:02] have this kind of feeling?
[13:04] They probably do, but after a long time
[13:06] , you get used to it and aren't so
[13:09] sensitive. It's the issue we mentioned
[13:14] earlier; most Shanghainese keep to
[13:16] themselves.
[13:18] They just look after themselves, like
[13:20] we said, because of the abnormal
[13:22] conditions of the past, like the
[13:24] Shikumen we mentioned.
[13:26] Why were they so crowded? Originally,
[13:28] these houses were for one family, but
[13:31] after the August 13th incident, a
[13:33] massive number of people fled into the
[13:35] concessions. The whole country came to
[13:38] the concessions; it was a safe haven,
[13:40] so landlords started renting out every
[13:42] available space. This overcrowding
[13:44] forced people to try their best to draw
[13:46] clear boundaries between one another.
[13:49] Or as Zhou Yijun said, we don't
[13:51] interfere with each other. But the
[13:53] problem is, now when you go to Shanghai
[13:55] , I suspect you won't really encounter
[13:58] only Shanghainese; everyone speaks
[14:00] Mandarin now. It's very hard to find
[14:03] the original flavor; it's lost.
[14:05] I remember in my early years, when I
[14:07] first came, I was chatting with
[14:08] Professor Jin and asked if the Shanghai
[14:10] Writers 'Association was still at 675
[14:12] Julu Road. See, I remember it so
[14:14] clearly because my first trip to
[14:16] Shanghai was specifically to go to 675
[14:18] Julu Road, and that road was incredibly
[14:20] long. One thing that’s really
[14:22] daunting about Shanghai is that the
[14:23] roads are so long. Sometimes when you
[14:25] get on a road, you're still a long way
[14:26] from your destination. You’ve got a
[14:28] long way to go. In Beijing, once
[14:29] you’re on a road, no matter how long
[14:31] the alley is, it won’t take you more
[14:32] than ten minutes. In Shanghai, you
[14:34] could walk until your ankles give out
[14:36] and still not be there.
[14:38] So, the first time I went to Shanghai,
[14:40] the first issue I faced was the
[14:42] language. In the early 80s, many older
[14:46] Shanghainese people couldn’t speak
[14:48] Mandarin at all. Even if they strained
[14:50] to talk to you, you couldn’t
[14:52] understand them. When taxis first
[14:54] appeared, the drivers were always
[14:56] locals—this was true in Beijing and
[14:58] Shanghai. Outsiders only started doing
[15:00] this tough job later; it used to be a
[15:02] lucrative gig. So in Shanghai, the
[15:04] first time I took a taxi, I spoke to
[15:07] the driver. I thought, there's no way
[15:09] someone wouldn't understand me. If I
[15:12] just speak my Mandarin slowly, that
[15:14] should be fine, right? I said, "Turn
[15:17] right," and the driver said to me... "
[15:19] Zuowei." Oh, I heard "turn left." I
[15:23] said, "Look,' turn left, 'how do you
[15:25] say that?"
[15:25] Did you hear it as "turn left"?
[15:27] Yeah, turn left.
[15:28] I said, "Did you understand' turn right
[15:30] '?" He said, "Left." I felt like he was
[15:32] messing with me. I asked, "What are you
[15:34] trying to do?" And then he said...
[15:36] Shanghainese people are very
[15:37] interesting. They don't use "left turn"
[15:39] or "right turn," they use "big turn"
[15:40] and "small turn."
[15:41] Shanghainese people also don't use "go
[15:43] south" or "go north" for roads. I
[15:44] haven't seen it. What is this? How do
[15:47] they call a left turn? "Big"? How do
[15:51] you read it? "
[15:51] Left" is "big."
[15:53] Left is big, right is small.
[15:55] Hmm.
[15:56] Then he said "small turn," and I was
[15:58] like...
[15:58] Small turn, you mean small, so you mean
[16:00] right turn. I said "right turn," and he
[16:02] was actually echoing me saying "right
[16:04] turn."
[16:04] Oh.
[16:05] But I heard it as "turn left."
[16:08] I heard a story about a Shanghainese
[16:10] person who went to Hong Kong and also
[16:12] said "turn right" while trying hard to
[16:14] speak Cantonese. I...I want to say,
[16:16] actually, the language issue is
[16:18] something I find quite heartbreaking.
[16:20] When I go back to Shanghai now, I can
[16:22] barely speak Shanghainese even in the
[16:24] city center.
[16:25] Why?
[16:26] First, when you open your mouth to talk
[16:28] to anyone, you aren't sure if they can
[16:30] understand you. You don't know how they
[16:32] will respond. If you go to any shop, oh
[16:34] , I definitely speak Mandarin first.
[16:36] You mean Shanghainese people feel a bit
[16:38] lost now?
[16:39] It’s not feeling lost, it’s just
[16:41] the objective reality that we’ve had
[16:43] Mandarin education for over four
[16:45] generations now. Since the Reform and
[16:47] Opening-up, Mandarin has become the
[16:48] mainstream across the whole country.
[16:50] And this city, it is actually losing
[16:52] its personality.
[16:53] Losing its personality in what way? You
[16:56] , for example, take a blind person, you
[16:57] bring them into a city, and all they
[16:59] hear is Mandarin, they wouldn't even
[17:01] know if they’ve left home or not. For
[17:03] instance, you go to Guangdong, you’d
[17:05] expect to hear Cantonese, but if
[17:06] everyone there just speaks Mandarin,
[17:08] it’s just like the architecture
[17:10] nationwide now—it’s all
[17:12] standardized, and the city’s unique
[17:14] character is gone.
[17:15] Truly gone. And now, even young people
[17:18] in Shanghai, the post-80s and 90s
[17:20] generations, speak Mandarin among
[17:22] themselves.
[17:22] And they can’t even hit the right
[17:24] pronunciations for Shanghainese words.
[17:26] Their language has changed, but do you
[17:27] think their personalities have changed
[17:29] too?
[17:29] They will lose a lot.
[17:31] It will change along with the language.
[17:33] Yes, exactly, it will change according
[17:35] to the language. That’s why I’ve
[17:37] been calling for the protection of our
[17:38] dialects. Shanghainese is a truly
[17:41] excellent dialect system. Because
[17:43] dialects aren’t just about tone and
[17:45] inflection; Northerners often mistake
[17:47] dialects for just an accent. That’s
[17:50] not it. For example, most Beijingers
[17:52] can understand Hebei dialect; it’s
[17:54] just a different accent. But a truly
[17:56] good dialect lies in its vocabulary. In
[17:59] my understanding of dialects,
[18:01] Shanghainese is unique in its
[18:02] terminology.
[18:03] Shanghainese people don't use the word
[18:05] for "wallet," they call it "pijiazi."
[18:07] They don’t say "RMB" or "money," they
[18:09] call it "chaopiao." It’s just that
[18:11] they always...
[18:12] We used to call it "dongdithong."
[18:14] That’s true, too. When I was a kid, I
[18:16] didn’t even have a wallet; I just
[18:17] shoved it in my pants pocket, no "
[18:18] pijiazi" at all.
[18:19] No, no, it’s like this: it is within
[18:21] this choice of language that its
[18:23] individuality exists. Since I work with
[18:25] words, I’m very passionate about this
[18:27] , and I’m always calling for the
[18:29] protection of dialects. But there is a
[18:31] misfortune; take Shanghainese, for
[18:33] example—it is basically dying out.
[18:36] Because for this generation of post-80s
[18:38] and 90s, the best they can do is
[18:39] understand it but not speak it—they
[18:41] can understand it but not speak it. By
[18:43] the next generation, it will be gone.
[18:46] Because...
[18:47] It’s that simple.
[18:48] Because back in the 90s, when the
[18:50] property market first opened up. Many
[18:53] wealthy tycoons from other regions.
[18:55] Came to Shanghai to buy property, often
[18:58] buying dozens of units at a time, and
[19:00] there was also a large influx of
[19:02] officials from other provinces
[19:03] transferred to Shanghai for work
[19:05] because the city was expanding. So,
[19:07] after these two groups arrived in
[19:10] Shanghai, I believe they actually
[19:12] played a certain role. What was it?
[19:15] It’s that Shanghainese isn't allowed,
[19:17] because there's no learning it either,
[19:19] since schools nowadays don't... "
[19:21] Please speak Mandarin." You go anywhere
[19:24] now, you walk into an office building
[19:26] and hear nothing but Mandarin, because
[19:28] so many people have come from out of
[19:30] town. And from their perspective,
[19:33] it’s not unfair, because everyone is
[19:35] educated in Mandarin. Why should I have
[19:38] to speak your dialect just because I
[19:40] came here? In the past, back in the
[19:42] 1920s and 30s, if you went to do
[19:44] business in any city across the country
[19:46] , you were expected to learn the local
[19:49] tongue. That was the rule.
[19:51] When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
[19:53] But nowadays, due to the situation I
[19:56] mentioned, we never used to see so many
[19:58] intellectuals or business owners
[20:00] arriving all at once like this. In the
[20:03] past, people from all walks of life
[20:05] trickled in slowly, speaking various
[20:07] accents—Shandong dialect, Shanghai
[20:09] dialect, Suzhou dialect, Ningbo dialect
[20:11] —everyone had different accents. It
[20:13] was the same in other cities.
[20:15] The mountains cannot block the river
[20:17] from flowing eastward. I think it’s
[20:19] very difficult to make such an appeal
[20:20] now; it's hard to get anything done.
[20:22] This is a global issue; cities around
[20:24] the world are becoming more and more
[20:26] alike. I spent seven years in Guangzhou
[20:29] twenty years ago, and back then, only
[20:31] our Guangdong Radio station compound
[20:33] spoke Mandarin.
[20:34] It was only Mandarin within the
[20:35] compound, but outside, everything was
[20:37] in Cantonese. Yet today, even Guangzhou
[20:39] is the same.
[20:40] I hear them all speaking it.
[20:42] I feel that, on one hand, as a
[20:43] Shanghainese person, you have an
[20:45] emotional attachment to the dialect, so
[20:47] you naturally feel a sense of loss and
[20:48] unhappiness. But on the other hand, I
[20:50] truly think that sometimes we need to
[20:52] have a more tolerant and inclusive
[20:54] mindset. Why? Because this population
[20:57] mobility is truly unstoppable. When I
[20:59] return to Shanghai now, apart from the
[21:01] friends I grew up with, most of the
[21:02] people I meet aren't Shanghainese.
[21:04] Some of my relatives always talk about
[21:05] driving the "outsiders" away, but I
[21:07] tell them, "If you drive them away, I
[21:08] won't have any friends left in Shanghai
[21:10] ! My friends are all from out of town."
[21:12] Some of my friends say they live right
[21:14] in the city center, but they haven't
[21:15] met a single Shanghainese person all
[21:17] month.
[21:17] I remember when I was in college, I
[21:19] brought a friend from the Northeast
[21:20] back to Shanghai, and within a week, he
[21:22] could more or less understand
[21:23] Shanghainese. Because he heard it
[21:25] constantly—he heard it all the time.
[21:26] But now, it’s not that he’s unable
[21:27] to learn; it's because you just don't
[21:29] hear it anymore. I know friends who
[21:30] have lived there for years and still
[21:31] don't understand it, because they never
[21:32] get exposed to the Shanghai dialect. Oh
[21:33] , you're really talking about this
[21:36] pursuit. You see, this concept of "
[21:38] seeking flavors," I find it really
[21:41] interesting. Some people take this
[21:43] seeking to an extreme level. Take
[21:45] Xiaoqing, for example; do you know
[21:47] what's interesting about him? Uh, this
[21:50] so-called "seeking flavors" isn't about
[21:52] just any good flavor,
[21:53] but rather, unique flavors.
[21:56] Sometimes, even the flavors Xiaoqing
[21:58] seeks, by our standards, might even be
[22:01] bitter,
[22:01] or even pungent.
[22:03] I’d even take this concept of flavor
[22:06] a step further. Don't you find human
[22:08] taste buds interesting? When we smell
[22:09] something, like fragrance or sweetness,
[22:11] Mm.
[22:12] We all recognize those. But sometimes,
[22:15] how should I put it? For instance, I
[22:17] have a friend in Taiwan who makes tea.
[22:20] I’m still not sure if I should
[22:22] believe his theory, but he’s clearly
[22:25] someone who seeks out certain flavors,
[22:27] and he tells you. He says that,
[22:29] actually, tea just needs to be clean.
[22:31] It’s about hygiene; Taiwanese people
[22:33] are quite particular about that. As
[22:35] long as it's hygienic, that's enough.
[22:37] He says, look at how you all drink
[22:39] Pu'er or whatever else, but I feel
[22:40] every type of tea has its own unique
[22:42] character.
[22:42] Uh-huh,
[22:43] I completely agree.
[22:45] He shared this theory, and later I
[22:46] heard it from a wine expert too. I
[22:48] think this has elevated to a
[22:50] philosophical level. As far as we're
[22:51] concerned, whether it tastes good or
[22:53] not is another matter entirely. He said
[22:55] , think about it,
[22:56] this is the soil from that specific
[22:58] year.
[22:59] Mm,
[22:59] how much rain fell that year. Even the
[23:02] wind of that year, the air of that year
[23:04] , brewed into this plant, and it
[23:07] absorbed it all.
[23:08] So, what you’re tasting is the heaven
[23:10] and earth of that year.
[23:12] Right, something unique.
[23:13] Exactly, I completely agree. Even if it
[23:16] tastes bad, that’s even more
[23:18] significant.
[23:18] Of course, that year's gift to you is
[23:21] exactly that. Mm, more importantly,
[23:24] many of the hierarchies we’ve
[23:26] established are imposed on you by
[23:28] commerce. For example, some kind of
[23:33] rating or star level, that’s
[23:35] commercial. People follow that so they
[23:39] won't go wrong.
[23:40] I don't even know for myself what
[23:42] tastes good or bad anymore. Right, food
[23:45] is equal. When you eat something,
[23:49] it truly is equal. There’s nothing
[23:53] particularly expensive or special; that
[23:56] sense of scarcity is all created by
[23:58] those in trade, in business, in the
[24:01] food industry. It’s about taking the
[24:03] most ordinary things and making you
[24:06] feel
[24:06] that you can have so many different
[24:08] interpretations of them. Like when he
[24:11] mentioned his 50%failure rate.
[24:13] Right.
[24:14] So, how do you view that failure?
[24:16] Personally, I think he didn't do a good
[24:19] job. If he had put more effort into it,
[24:21] or if it wasn't this season—if he had
[24:24] waited a bit longer, it could have been
[24:26] better. The point is, it’s not that
[24:28] things don't have good or bad qualities
[24:31] ,
[24:31] but that whether something is cheap or
[24:33] expensive, it actually has its ups and
[24:35] downs. Yeah.
[24:36] For example, in Guangdong, we have
[24:38] those Hong Kong-style snacks like
[24:40] pudding cakes,
[24:41] which are the cheapest and most common
[24:43] desserts, but even those have good and
[24:45] bad versions. Yeah.
[24:47] Stinky tofu is also famous; tofu has
[24:49] its good and bad varieties too, right?
[24:53] Maybe, but the premise of our
[24:55] discussion is that you need to be able
[24:57] to taste that quality. I have a friend
[25:02] who makes me incredibly envious. I
[25:06] always thought only hearing had "
[25:09] perfect pitch,"
[25:12] a perfect sense of hearing that can
[25:14] distinguish every single note. Turns
[25:17] out, taste has it too.
[25:19] He even took a test—an
[25:21] internationally recognized one—and he
[25:24] said he has a perfect sense of taste. I
[25:27] asked, "What does that mean?"
[25:29] He just said, "Well, the way I
[25:31] experience a sip of water is completely
[25:33] different from how you do, even from
[25:35] the same glass.""
[25:36] I can perfectly distinguish the subtle
[25:38] differences in the water—this cup
[25:40] versus that cup—let alone food." So,
[25:43] he later opened a very successful
[25:45] restaurant, mostly serving coffee. His
[25:48] hobby is playing with coffee.
[25:50] People who are into coffee or wine
[25:52] usually...
[25:52] Yes, people who are into red wine just
[25:54] ...
[25:54] Is that so? Or is it because they have
[25:56] that ability that they get into it?
[25:58] People like that—such people are
[25:59] truly blessed.
[26:00] You know, looking back, I think people
[26:03] like me are often quite pathetic.
[26:05] Because when it comes to the "sense of
[26:08] taste" reaching such a delicate level,
[26:10] sometimes it feels like we aren't as
[26:12] refined as others, and so people like
[26:14] me can sometimes become prey to con
[26:16] artists.
[26:17] Yeah.
[26:18] You didn't ask, but con artists use the
[26:20] same rhetoric.
[26:21] But the scammers are here too. I've
[26:24] heard many lectures about this, this,
[26:26] this red wine. You know, humans are
[26:29] such a spineless species, incredibly
[26:31] easy to hypnotize. They say, "At the
[26:34] tip of your tongue, you'll feel a bit
[26:36] of astringency.""Then, draw it in along
[26:39] the sides of your tongue. Don't you
[26:41] feel the astringency becoming heavier?"
[26:44] Oh, you know, I'm actually a fool, you
[26:47] know? He says it just like that, and
[26:49] truly, you go, "Oh, yes, yes, it is, it
[26:52] is!"
[26:53] Psychological sensation.
[26:54] Right, is it a feeling in your heart?
[26:56] You're going to a hypnosis seminar.
[26:58] Exactly, so I’m asking, based on what
[27:00] you said, do you think you really
[27:02] possess that kind of refined
[27:03] sensitivity?
[27:04] I don’t. I’m definitely far from
[27:07] being a food critic, but I have two
[27:09] points I prefer. First, I am truly
[27:12] passionate about it. I think passion is
[27:15] more important than anything else. I
[27:17] can mention two films. One is a film
[27:20] starring my friend Shen Teng, called*
[27:23] Hello Mr. Billionaire*.
[27:24] And the other is Hirokazu Kore-eda’s*
[27:28] Shoplifters*.
[27:29] That day, we had a lot of time before
[27:32] watching*Shoplifters*, so I watched*
[27:34] Hello Mr. Billionaire*.
[27:36] In these two films, *Hello Mr.
[27:38] Billionaire*features many, many
[27:40] high-end things to eat. Things like
[27:45] Boston lobster, geoduck, all sorts of
[27:48] sashimi, they ate it all. But you don't
[27:52] feel like there’s any real food in it
[27:55] .
[27:56] The food eaten in*Shoplifters*is a
[27:59] croquette.
[28:00] Hmm.
[28:01] It's just the cheapest deep-fried
[28:04] street snack in Japan. After watching
[28:08] it, I told my son I wanted to find
[28:10] where in Beijing they sell
[28:13] croquettes. Just like when I watched*
[28:15] Green Book*, I really wanted to eat KFC
[28:17] .
[28:18] I hadn't had KFC for a long time,
[28:19] because in that movie
[28:20] you see them eating it with such gusto.
[28:23] Eating KFC so deliciously, that’s the
[28:26] passion I’m talking about. You first
[28:30] have to be interested in it; otherwise,
[28:33] no matter what you say, they just—I
[28:35] call them "cold-hearted eaters," there
[28:37] are people like that.
[28:41] They are just unhappy with whatever
[28:44] they eat. "
[28:45] Is this worth this much money?" Why is
[28:49] it like that? They are truly unhappy.
[28:54] Or perhaps they think, "I set a price
[28:57] tag, this is 80 yuan per person, so it
[29:00] has status.""
[29:02] You, at three yuan a person, I’m
[29:04] eating more high-end than you." They
[29:06] rely on this kind of psychological
[29:08] suggestion.
[29:10] Suggestion, yes.
[29:11] Just like you mentioned about
[29:12] Daoxiangcun.
[29:13] Hmm.
[29:14] Right.
[29:15] Is Daoxiangcun just like that? I mean,
[29:18] I might not think it tastes good, but
[29:20] my friends studying in Japan or those
[29:23] who have been to Japan—Every time
[29:25] they take some back, they eat it and
[29:27] get so, so touched. It’s like this
[29:30] for me.
[29:30] You see, this sense of taste is worth
[29:32] pondering. On one hand, there is
[29:34] definitely an objective sense of taste,
[29:36] your perception of sour, sweet, bitter,
[29:38] and spicy.
[29:38] But on the other hand, when it reaches
[29:41] a more subtle level, it is...
[29:43] Hmm. ...
[29:44] inseparable from your spirit, memory,
[29:46] and emotions.
[29:47] Well, I mentioned one point earlier.
[29:49] The second point is that I’m now more
[29:50] concerned with food as a way to see
[29:52] what the place behind that food is like
[29:54] . Mm-hmm.
[29:55] When a wet market is complex, with
[29:57] every vendor displaying their goods in
[30:00] their own unique way, I know this is a
[30:02] place where people are quite particular
[30:05] about their lifestyle. There are other
[30:08] places I've been to; I just visited a
[30:11] city and went to their wet market. Even
[30:13] the signs in the market were all made
[30:15] to look
[30:16] identical.
[30:17] Exactly the same lettering, all "
[30:19] So-and-so's Vegetable Stall," and
[30:21] everything displayed exactly the same
[30:23] way, right down to the layout—I knew
[30:25] right then that this place was quite
[30:27] lacking in
[30:28] cultural diversity.
[30:30] Right, and the food there definitely
[30:31] won't be good enough.
[30:33] So, you can really see the culture of a
[30:35] city or a place there. And, I also want
[30:37] to say that there is a big difference
[30:39] between wet markets and supermarkets.
[30:41] What is that difference? Visiting a wet
[30:43] market is a bit like browsing an
[30:45] independent bookstore. Think about it:
[30:46] if we want to buy a book today, going
[30:48] to a bookstore is the least efficient
[30:49] way.
[30:50] Mm-hmm.
[30:50] You talk about "searching." If I'm
[30:53] searching, I usually have a goal, and
[30:55] then I search. If I have a target in
[30:57] mind, it's obviously more convenient to
[30:58] buy a book online. But why do you go to
[31:01] a bookstore? You aren't there to search
[31:02] for something; you are there to
[31:04] encounter. A chance encounter.
[31:05] You want to encounter things like, "Oh,
[31:07] I never knew this kind of book existed!
[31:08] "
[31:08] Exactly, you can have those encounters
[31:10] at a wet market. Mm-hmm.
[31:11] You can't have those encounters at a
[31:13] supermarket, but supermarkets offer a
[31:15] different kind of pleasure. Jia, what
[31:17] is that like? It's a bit like how many
[31:20] people enjoy shopping at IKEA, right?
[31:21] Mm-hmm.
[31:22] Actually, the pleasure of visiting a
[31:24] supermarket is just like the pleasure
[31:25] of shopping at IKEA. Right, and what is
[31:27] that? You see it all bright and clean,
[31:30] with everything arranged neatly, which
[31:32] is quite nice—that’s a type of
[31:34] pleasure. Both have their own pleasures
[31:36] , but if you love food—just like why
[31:39] book lovers visit bookstores—you'll
[31:41] discover, "I never imagined this kind
[31:43] of book existed." Browsing a wet market
[31:45] , it's like, "Wow, there’s something
[31:47] like this?" That feeling is a surprise.
[31:50] And sometimes, you can even see history
[31:52] .
[31:53] How so?
[31:54] Take Yunnan's "zuosa" for example.
[31:56] There’s a variety called "bitter sa."
[31:59] It’s a bitter seasoning made from the
[32:01] intestines near a cow's cecum.
[32:03] I haven't had that.
[32:05] Ah, it’s quite stimulating. It’s
[32:08] very bitter, but it leaves a sweet
[32:10] aftertaste, and your saliva production
[32:12] becomes exceptionally active. So you
[32:15] spend all day walking through the
[32:17] market, and now it's all "bitter sa"
[32:19] powder.
[32:20] Uh-huh.
[32:21] Then the proprietress comes over and
[32:23] tells you. You-you want this, right?
[32:26] Takes out a piece of sausage, wow.
[32:29] It’s exactly the encounter he
[32:31] described, truly, truly.
[32:32] And it’s authentic.
[32:34] This is something many places don’t
[32:36] sell anymore.
[32:36] Hmm.
[32:37] Can you understand this kind of
[32:39] flavor-seeking?
[32:39] Of course.
[32:40] Sometimes he’s even seeking out a
[32:42] bitter taste.
[32:43] Hmm, let me put it to you another way.
[32:46] "Oh my, Teacher Chen, you're here! You
[32:49] didn't come yesterday, I got some
[32:51] bamboo shoots from Xinfadi, they were
[32:54] delicious, I put them there, I had to
[32:56] buy them." One by one, the fresh bamboo
[32:59] shoots—you guys couldn't resist at
[33:01] all, he's already eaten one. Still left
[33:04] —
[33:05] Saving one for you.
[33:06] Hmm, those fresh bamboo shoots are so
[33:08] delicious, you just throw them into the
[33:10] fire, put them directly into the hearth
[33:11] to roast, and they become very, very
[33:13] sweet. So, this sort of thing requires
[33:15] an expert dealing with an expert. For
[33:18] example, if we went, of course, they
[33:20] wouldn't take it out for me, and even
[33:23] if they did, I wouldn't understand it.
[33:27] So, I'm curious, you say you have a lot
[33:30] of passion, what’s the reason for
[33:32] this passion? Because many people say
[33:36] that after a certain encounter or
[33:39] experience, they start to have a deep
[33:41] love for food. Is there something from
[33:44] your childhood? That’s a good
[33:46] question.
[33:47] Right.
[33:48] When I was a kid, I was quite something
[33:51] ; once, my mom took me on a train.
[33:54] Because we had a lot of luggage, she
[33:56] made me watch it, and kept telling me,
[33:58] "Don't you—""Even if someone gives
[34:01] you something delicious, don't follow
[34:03] them."
[34:04] So, do you remember that kid? I
[34:06] remember he disappeared later, he was
[34:08] lured away by someone with something
[34:10] good to eat. Ah, he was gone for a long
[34:13] time before he came back. We ended up
[34:15] switching platforms to board the train,
[34:18] and I started crying. My mom apologized
[34:20] , thinking I had waited too long.
[34:23] Right, too long, the child couldn't
[34:25] take it mentally.
[34:26] Actually, she didn't know why I was
[34:28] crying. I was thinking, why hasn't that
[34:31] person with the delicious food appeared
[34:33] yet?
[34:33] That bad guy with the tasty food, why
[34:36] hasn't he come yet? He was just born
[34:39] for this, right? If a bad guy came and
[34:42] offered him a bite, he’d just follow
[34:44] along. But I also feel that Teacher
[34:47] Xiaoqing isn't the type of "
[34:49] aristocratic gourmet" I've seen.
[34:51] The kind that talks about tasting a
[34:53] delicacy as if they’re describing the
[34:55] feeling of a piano concerto, that kind
[34:58] of thing—you...
[34:59] It's just like those food critics, I
[35:00] feel their tongues are like precision
[35:02] instruments. If their descriptions can
[35:05] be trusted, that is. Something might be
[35:07] described as, say, bland, yet smooth
[35:09] and not greasy—you know, it's a bit
[35:10] like taking a pulse in traditional
[35:12] Chinese medicine. You know, I’ve
[35:14] always felt that traditional Chinese
[35:16] medicine is, how should I put it, very
[35:18] difficult to learn.
[35:19] Hmm.
[35:20] It requires a lot of experience.
[35:23] Because, when they talk about a
[35:24] slippery or choppy pulse, that kind of
[35:26] thing.
[35:27] Right, we can only really count the
[35:29] heartbeats at most.
[35:30] Exactly, how many beats count as
[35:32] slippery or choppy, right? Their
[35:34] tongues, they can just like, can just
[35:36] —
[35:36] There aren't many people who can
[35:38] actually accept that. I work in mass
[35:41] communication; I want to tell people
[35:43] things that an average person can
[35:45] perceive.
[35:46] What makes food alluring to everyone is
[35:49] nothing more than—
[35:50] Texture,
[35:52] Consistency, flavor, and appearance.
[35:55] Just these few things.
[35:56] Does that include strange flavors?
[35:59] A strange flavor is just a type of
[36:01] texture. No, let me ask you, because I
[36:04] sometimes think—actually, I—sorry,
[36:07] Professor Xiaoqing—if you have a line
[36:09] , and you're at the extreme high end,
[36:12] I'm talking about being numb. I'm
[36:14] indifferent, stone-cold. What did you
[36:17] call it? Food indifference? "
[36:19] Food indifference" actually sounds a
[36:21] bit better. I’ve thought about the
[36:24] reasons for this later on; it might
[36:26] really be related to childhood
[36:27] experiences. When I was a kid, my
[36:30] family wasn't very wealthy. In those
[36:32] days, it was a rare event for my father
[36:35] to buy a mango. And a single mango had
[36:37] to be shared among all seven people in
[36:40] the family. You really had to take a
[36:42] knife, cut a slice here, another slice
[36:44] underneath, and then carve some out
[36:46] from the sides; you had to cut it into
[36:48] —
[36:49] Fibrous strips?
[36:50] Yes.
[36:51] No, and the portions weren't even equal
[36:54] . My sisters got more, my younger
[36:56] sister got more, and I, as the son, got
[36:59] the smallest piece. My family favored
[37:01] daughters over sons—though you could
[37:03] also say it's because boys are—
[37:05] Anyway, it's strange. I loved eating
[37:08] that mango. I’d save up my saliva,
[37:10] thinking it was so delicious. Logically
[37:12] speaking, I should have loved it,
[37:14] looked forward to it, and hoped for
[37:16] more mangoes.
[37:17] So what happened later? One time—I
[37:19] forgot the reason—I saved up some
[37:21] money, saved my allowance, and bought a
[37:24] mango for myself. I really do love them
[37:26] , so I went and bought one myself. I
[37:28] hid it in a corner of the kitchen. Then
[37:31] at night, I took it out in secret to
[37:33] eat it. I enjoyed the whole mango by
[37:35] myself. The feeling of it all being
[37:38] mine, that specific taste, rather than
[37:40] just eating a tiny slice of a mango—I
[37:42] finished the whole thing.
[37:44] It turned out I caught her, I came out
[37:46] at night and saw her in the kitchen
[37:48] eating a mango all by herself. She
[37:50] didn't scold me, but I just thought,
[37:53] how could she be so selfish? Saving up
[37:56] money to buy a mango and eating it in
[37:58] the kitchen, not sharing it with her
[38:01] sisters. And then this story was told
[38:03] over and over again; during my
[38:05] upbringing, I think it was brought up
[38:08] 3,000 times. Maybe that’s why I have
[38:13] such deep feelings about food, a heavy
[38:16] burden of guilt, feeling like I don't
[38:18] deserve to eat good things, and I feel
[38:21] guilty whenever I do. That’s why I
[38:26] say I have a spiritual connection with
[38:28] you.
[38:29] I think this really has a lot to do
[38:31] with psychology. When we were little in
[38:34] the North, we couldn't get bananas, and
[38:37] as for meat, you wouldn't necessarily
[38:39] get to eat it even once a week.
[38:43] When we finally got a banana, it was
[38:45] usually all black, and when I got one
[38:48] back then, you know what I liked to do?
[38:51] Before my parents or anyone else got
[38:54] home, I’d crawl under the bed, into
[38:56] that dark space underneath. Then my
[38:59] parents would come home, and I could
[39:01] see their feet walking back and forth
[39:02] while they talked. That’s when I
[39:04] would eat the banana. Oh, the thrill of
[39:07] hiding away to eat it. Even today,
[39:10] whenever something good happens, I like
[39:13] to keep it to myself, just quiet, like
[39:15] this feeling you have, it's just, oh, I
[39:18] later realized it was guilt. No, I
[39:21] later saw on a nature show that in
[39:23] Africa, there’s this animal, a
[39:26] hunting dog or something, that hides a
[39:28] piece of meat, checks to see if anyone
[39:30] is around, and then eats it slowly when
[39:33] no one is there. That’s the
[39:35] psychology of scarcity.
[39:37] Right? It really was that feeling back
[39:40] then, that deliciousness, my goodness.
[39:43] So I think Xiaoqing’s childhood
[39:45] history was just never having enough to
[39:48] eat.
[39:48] Hmm.
[39:49] Because if I didn't even have that
[39:51] opportunity you had.
[39:52] The mango.
[39:54] The only pocket money my parents ever
[39:56] gave me was five cents, just once in my
[39:58] entire life.
[39:59] So it was impossible for me to even
[40:01] have an experience like that.
[40:02] Poor child.
[40:03] Is it that feeling of enjoying
[40:05] something, just like he said, enjoying
[40:07] it feels almost like a crime?
[40:09] It’s like you feel, how should I put
[40:11] it, that you don't deserve it, or the
[40:13] feeling that it could be taken away at
[40:15] any moment. Oh, you’re talking about
[40:17] the best-tasting memory. For me, so I
[40:20] still want to ask Teacher Chen a
[40:22] question. For example, like when Roland
[40:25] was chatting with us, he said if you
[40:27] prepare a feast, you should have snacks
[40:30] ready, otherwise people will get hungry
[40:32] waiting.
[40:33] But for me, do you think hunger is a
[40:36] necessary condition for deliciousness?
[40:38] Because if I want to eat something,
[40:41] I'll go hungry for a meal first.
[40:43] I think that makes it taste the best.
[40:45] If I'm not hungry, I don't think
[40:47] anything tastes that great.
[40:49] This is a major difference between the
[40:51] East and the West.
[40:52] How so?
[40:53] It's just that Westerners don't get the
[40:55] chance to be as hungry as we do.
[40:57] That's true.
[40:58] I was with a psychologist, Teacher Chen
[41:00] Li.
[41:01] Teacher Chen Li.
[41:02] He has two points of view. One is that
[41:05] people who were abused during their
[41:07] childhood, especially the oral stage,
[41:09] might end up becoming gourmets when
[41:11] they grow up. Because they weren't
[41:14] fully satisfied, they become foodies.
[41:16] I mean, the host. Yes, yes, yes. Well,
[41:21] Or a food documentary director. But
[41:25] there is another point of view: he
[41:27] believes that Chinese people have many
[41:30] ways of sharing deliciousness, such as
[41:32] savoring the mouthfeel.
[41:35] Hmm.
[41:36] The feeling on the teeth, whether it's
[41:38] springy or not.
[41:39] Right.
[41:40] Yeah.
[41:41] Yeah.
[41:42] Many of these things you can't find
[41:44] abroad, this feeling of texture, things
[41:46] that melt in your mouth—they
[41:48] experience it in a very, very detailed
[41:51] way.
[41:51] Why? Because we didn't have as much of
[41:55] that, or perhaps our sense of taste
[41:58] itself—he says there's one thing that
[42:00] many ethnic groups, only hunting tribes
[42:03] have, which is the joy of swallowing.
[42:07] Hmm.
[42:08] Cai also wrote about this, that
[42:11] this satisfying joy of eating is only
[42:14] something
[42:16] that is unique to people whose material
[42:19] resources aren't so abundant, this kind
[42:22] of feeling.
[42:23] Yes, yes, yes. Oh, what you said is
[42:27] just—actually, I'm not worthy of
[42:29] being a gourmet, because for me, the
[42:32] best thing is wolfing it down.
[42:35] The joy, you know, to the point that I
[42:38] often tell them my best food memory
[42:40] from childhood is stir-fried pancakes.
[42:44] Because I couldn't get to eat it as a
[42:46] child, when I finally had some good
[42:47] stir-fried pancakes, you know, the oily
[42:49] shredded pancakes. Hmm.
[42:51] Fried in oil, then stir-fried again,
[42:54] with shredded cabbage, then sprinkled
[42:57] with some dried chili and chili oil. I
[42:59] remember it was a few cents or two yuan
[43:02] a plate. Once I started liking it, I
[43:05] ate it every day for a month.
[43:07] Wow.
[43:08] Went to eat it every single day, and
[43:10] then one day it was pouring rain, a
[43:12] heavy downpour. I asked my parents for
[43:16] money, they wouldn't give me any, so
[43:18] finally, I just smashed my piggy bank,
[43:21] grabbed a handful of coins—it was a
[43:23] total all-in move, that was my entire
[43:26] net worth. Then my mom said it was
[43:31] raining so hard the water was up to our
[43:34] knees, but I went out in a huff, just
[43:36] went for it, and ordered three plates,
[43:38] you know? I really showed them.
[43:42] And then,
[43:44] I was soaked to the bone.
[43:45] Exactly.
[43:47] Hey, that’s what you call eating to
[43:49] your heart's content. It’s what I
[43:51] call a love for life; like the
[43:52] croquettes in "Shoplifters," they were
[43:55] slurping them up even though they were
[43:57] hot, but that’s different, that was
[44:00] hunger, it was madness, how could they
[44:02] not, they were truly relying on that.
[44:05] So you see, doesn't diet sometimes
[44:07] affect your psychology? Like with my
[44:09] banana and pancake stories, I realize
[44:11] they form the two poles of my
[44:12] personality.
[44:13] One side is super withdrawn,
[44:16] living like a thief, not wanting to
[44:18] tell anyone anything, not wanting
[44:20] anyone to know what I’m doing, you
[44:22] know? Secretly eating something—
[44:24] that’s one pole, but the other pole
[44:27] is being bold and unrestrained, wanting
[44:30] everything to be satisfying and enough,
[44:32] right? That’s the two poles of my
[44:35] personality.
[44:36] The "potlatch" in anthropology, many
[44:39] agrarian societies have it, even the
[44:41] Native Americans were like that,
[44:43] they’d have so much food they
[44:45] couldn't possibly finish it, just
[44:47] piling it all up. Teacher Xiaoxing, how
[44:49] would you describe this meeting between
[44:51] two great foodies from China and the US
[44:53] ?
[44:53] No, first of all, I’m a food
[44:56] professional. He’s a real foodie;
[45:00] it’s not hard to eat his cooking, but
[45:02] you have to know the stories behind
[45:04] each dish. He’s not just a foodie,
[45:09] he’s a human geographer. Yeah, he
[45:13] understands American dietary habits
[45:16] from north to south incredibly well.
[45:19] Look at this photo, this is Luo Lang in
[45:23] China.
[45:23] About where is this?
[45:25] To put it closer to home, you’re the
[45:27] American Li Shizhen; looking further
[45:29] back, you’re Shennong.
[45:30] That’s a big deal. He goes into the
[45:33] mountains and wild places of China to
[45:35] find ingredients, to understand the
[45:37] diets of people in every little nook
[45:39] and cranny, so he’s that kind of
[45:41] person, and today
[45:42] he’s prepared something special for
[45:44] us. Alright, let Teacher Xiaoxing lead
[45:46] us in tasting it. This should be corn
[45:49] from the corn-growing regions of the
[45:52] American South. This might change your
[45:54] impression; you might have thought it
[45:56] was from Sichuan.
[45:57] Yes, the look of it.
[45:59] Do you eat it with your hands?
[46:00] Eat it with your hands, go ahead.
[46:02] I also think, looking at it, how does
[46:04] it not look like it?
[46:05] Does such a thing even exist in the US?
[46:08] Mind your chewing, keep your mouth
[46:09] closed, because last time when you ate,
[46:12] you know our audio is hard to process;
[46:14] it sounded like a pig's trotter being
[46:16] pulled out of a pig pen. So this corn
[46:20] is indeed a bit different from what
[46:21] you've had, right?
[46:22] Hmm, this is corn puree.
[46:24] This is corn, yes.
[46:25] Corn.
[46:26] Blue corn, oh my.
[46:28] Treasure corn. Look, you can't share
[46:30] this with the audience.
[46:31] It's just really delicious, is this
[46:34] quite filling?
[46:35] Take a bite, take a bite.
[46:36] This is fragrant, this is fragrant, hmm
[46:38] .
[46:38] Hmm, why is it so sweet?
[46:40] Hmm, this is very fragrant.
[46:41] This is a cinnamon roll.
[46:43] It's really fragrant.
[46:44] Hmm. It's also a traditional breakfast.
[46:46] Where are cinnamon rolls originally
[46:48] from?
[46:48] Actually, this type of bread culture
[46:50] came over from Europe.
[46:51] Like Germany, France.
[46:53] Those places are the Old World.
[46:56] Hmm.
[46:57] And especially, like in the American
[46:59] Northeast.
[47:00] There is a group there called
[47:03] Anabaptists, who believe in baptism
[47:05] again, right? That was back in the
[47:09] 1600s.
[47:10] Yes, yes. So they fled to America, and
[47:16] in order to maintain all their
[47:18] traditional religious beliefs, they
[47:20] reject modern things, like electricity,
[47:22] medical treatments, and so on; they
[47:24] can't accept television, and this
[47:26] belongs to their traditional stuff,
[47:28] sourdough things, yes.
[47:33] Just now, I was instantly impressed.
[47:36] Amazing, amazing, this has some history
[47:39] to it. I'm very curious where this
[47:41] originated, so where exactly in the US
[47:43] is this corn from? Indeed, this corn is
[47:46] a plant from the New World.
[47:48] Corn itself originally came from
[47:51] Mesoamerica.
[47:52] That is, present-day Mexico and what
[47:54] Professor Chen mentioned, Texas,
[47:56] Arizona, the Southwest and more
[47:58] southerly regions.
[48:00] And this was originally the main staple
[48:03] of the Aztecs. Hmm.
[48:07] It was considered a sacrificial
[48:09] offering, something given to the gods,
[48:12] or an offering to control the weather
[48:15] or fortune; they...
[48:16] This is really delicious, is this corn
[48:18] from that region? Yes, actually there
[48:21] are hundreds of types of corn. Nowadays
[48:23] , we only grow a few varieties, like
[48:25] sweet corn and so on. These things, I
[48:28] actually spent a few years in Sichuan,
[48:30] Guizhou, and the Yunnan-Guizhou-Sichuan
[48:33] region, and I'd see them on the street.
[48:35] But they mostly make them in triangles,
[48:37] right? Either using sweet corn, or
[48:40] wrapping that kind of waxy corn,
[48:42] And it counts as a seasonal, quite
[48:45] representative little snack, but the
[48:48] earliest we can see of this is
[48:50] What exactly is it wrapped in?
[48:52] It's corn husks, corn husks wrapping
[48:55] the corn, right?
[48:56] Yes, around 1550, we see corn wrapping
[48:58] in China; it had just entered China,
[49:01] originally brought over by the
[49:03] Portuguese.
[49:04] So you think of Professor Xiaoqing’s
[49:06] historical perspective, this corn and
[49:08] potatoes.
[49:09] They all came from the New World.
[49:11] They also changed the course of Chinese
[49:13] history,
[49:13] And even changed China's population
[49:15] growth. Of course.
[49:17] They changed the entire land-to-people
[49:19] structure of East Asia, the proportion
[49:21] completely changed.
[49:22] Yes, because you look at how many
[49:23] Chinese immigrants there are in
[49:25] Southeast Asia today; they actually all
[49:26] went out from the southeast coast.
[49:27] Going out from the southeast coast was
[49:29] due to population pressure.
[49:30] Why was the population so high? It
[49:33] actually has to do with corn and
[49:34] potatoes.
[49:35] Yes, of course, talking about this corn
[49:37] is too simple. Since Professor Xiaoqing
[49:39] is here today, I think we should get
[49:41] straight to the point: meat. Meat, you
[49:44] ...
[49:45] Hey, let me show you meat. Roland wrote
[49:48] this book over an inch thick,
[49:50] specifically about American meat. I
[49:53] think we need a sense of ritual. To
[49:56] build anticipation, let's gaze at it
[49:59] first. Professor Xiaoqing, why don't
[50:01] you start by expressing your feelings
[50:03] about meat.
[50:04] So this is Western meat, then.
[50:06] What is Chinese meat, then?
[50:08] Because, because of the difference in
[50:11] tableware.
[50:12] Yes. So dishes will have a fundamental
[50:15] change in appearance; all Chinese
[50:18] dishes are designed for chopsticks.
[50:21] Yes.
[50:22] Oh, it’s for chopsticks, meaning once
[50:25] picked up by chopsticks, it's just
[50:26] right. But Western meat, it has a knife
[50:29] and fork.
[50:30] Hmm.
[50:31] It can be divided again and again.
[50:33] Oh, so they are in big chunks. They
[50:36] will—our knife work is...
[50:39] Born from chopsticks and heat, that is
[50:42] ...
[50:42] Hmm.
[50:43] The speed of heating and the process of
[50:46] enjoying it,
[50:47] Basically, it's all one bite at a time.
[50:49] Then must people eat meat?
[50:52] Not necessarily, of course not
[50:54] necessarily.
[50:55] Uh, for example...
[50:56] We have so many vegetarians; I also eat
[50:58] mostly vegetarian food normally now.
[51:00] But then I have to tell you, you know,
[51:03] speaking of being vegetarian, there is
[51:06] this American company, or Western
[51:08] anyway, that makes artificial meat,
[51:10] It went public on May 2nd this year.
[51:13] Within 26 trading days, this stock has
[51:15] risen nearly sixfold.
[51:17] Mm.
[51:18] This lab-grown meat is not made of peas
[51:20] or soybeans, not plant-based protein.
[51:22] I looked up some data and it was
[51:24] incredible. It’s said that in 1912, a
[51:27] Western scientist cut a piece of
[51:29] chicken heart muscle.
[51:30] Mm. Placed it into some culture medium,
[51:33] and it reportedly pulsed for 20 years.
[51:36] That started it all. I also found that
[51:39] in 1931, Churchill, the British leader,
[51:42] said that 50 years later, if we wanted
[51:45] to eat a chicken wing, we wouldn't need
[51:47] to raise or kill a real chicken; we
[51:50] could just grow one. So, then you know,
[51:52] around 2012 or 2013—Professor
[51:55] Xiaoqing, could you tell us more about
[51:57] this? You’re the expert. You should
[52:00] talk about it, you go ahead.
[52:01] It’s basically that a real lab-grown
[52:04] steak, which cost $ 330,000 to produce,
[52:06] is made by taking live cells from an
[52:09] animal.
[52:09] Placed in a petri dish, it’s
[52:11] essentially test-tube meat.
[52:12] And so it exists now. Since it exists,
[52:15] you know the stock is rising, and one
[52:17] of the people who invested in this
[52:19] lab-grown meat is someone everyone
[52:21] knows: Bill Gates.
[52:23] They took a piece of chicken, and Bill
[52:26] Gates tasted it, and his comment was, "
[52:28] Oh, surprise."
[52:30] But Bill Gates isn't reliable when it
[52:32] comes to his taste.
[52:33] Right, because we all know Bill Gates
[52:36] is on a different level. He even once
[52:38] said that if all the cows in the world
[52:40] were formed into a country, it would be
[52:42] the third-largest emitter of polluting
[52:45] gases on Earth, right?
[52:46] True. So by comparison, a Chinese
[52:50] online video blogger,
[52:53] reportedly conducted an experiment
[52:55] where he placed this lab-grown meat
[52:58] alongside real meat.
[52:59] Mm.
[53:01] His cat made the correct choice.
[53:04] What does that prove, in your opinion?
[53:06] It really comes down to flavor.
[53:08] How so?
[53:10] Uh, our current level of science can
[53:13] produce lab-grown meat. But it only
[53:16] solves the problem of nutrition.
[53:19] Whether it tastes good or not is not
[53:21] its primary consideration.
[53:23] Mm.
[53:25] And what makes us human is that besides
[53:27] being concerned about whether it can
[53:29] provide us with energy, what's more
[53:32] important is that we can enjoy the
[53:34] experience of eating. This kind of
[53:38] flavor comes from time, from the
[53:41] animal's growth, and from the food and
[53:43] water it consumes, and so on. However,
[53:46] there is another way to look at it. For
[53:49] example, in the culinary world a few
[53:52] years ago, molecular gastronomy was
[53:54] very popular.
[53:55] The foundation of molecular gastronomy
[53:57] is actually science. It uses science to
[53:59] re-examine all the principles of
[54:01] cooking. So, what is the scientific
[54:04] basis behind all this? For example, the
[54:06] traditional way we seared steak was to
[54:09] quickly sear both sides to caramelize
[54:11] it, to lock in the juices inside,
[54:13] to lock in the moisture, and then take
[54:15] it out; that's how it was always done.
[54:17] However, molecular gastronomy and
[54:19] studies by some scholars have
[54:21] questioned why we actually do this.
[54:23] Does it really lock in those juices?
[54:26] And when research was done, it was
[54:28] found that we could actually achieve
[54:30] similar results using other methods; it
[54:33] isn't strictly necessary. Right, so
[54:35] taking it a step further, we can study,
[54:37] for instance, when we put a piece of
[54:39] meat in our mouths, why do we think it
[54:42] tastes good? We think it tastes good
[54:44] because of certain chemical reactions
[54:46] on our tongues. Once we understand the
[54:51] mechanism of these chemical reactions,
[54:53] can we use other materials to recreate
[54:56] them? Therefore, the current trend is
[55:00] moving in this direction: what is the
[55:03] actual reason we find something
[55:05] delicious? Why does this thing feel
[55:07] like meat, have the texture of meat,
[55:09] and where does that flavor come from?
[55:11] If we could use scientific means to
[55:13] achieve all of this, is it possible to
[55:16] reach a point where even you would say,
[55:18] "Wow, this really has flavor." Then,
[55:20] when I got to Beijing, I didn't miss
[55:22] Shanghai, because I didn't like the
[55:24] smallness of Shanghai. I admired the
[55:27] North, the Soviet-influenced culture;
[55:29] it was just vast.
[55:30] When I got to the US, I didn't miss
[55:32] Shanghai either.
[55:33] When I got to the US, I thought of
[55:35] Dunhuang. It's very strange; I didn't
[55:37] expect it at all. It wasn't until I was
[55:39] old that I started not missing Shanghai
[55:41] , but wondering where—it's unexpected
[55:43] .
[55:43] Having seen it all.
[55:47] Right, honestly, I feel like a stranger
[55:50] in Shanghai; I feel like a stranger
[55:53] everywhere. I’m no longer a local,
[56:01] and I don't even know the roads.
[57:15] Professional. At that time, what I did
[57:31] more of was cooling off in the breeze,
[57:33] just catching the breeze.
[57:35] The bridges were full of people
[57:36] sleeping. It's amazing we dared to
[57:38] sleep on overpasses back then; so many
[57:40] people slept on the overpasses, on both
[57:41] sides. Right.
[57:43] And then.
[57:44] Maybe there weren't enough cars back
[57:45] then.
[57:45] It was mostly bicycles.
[57:47] And in the summer, everyone in the
[57:49] neighborhood would come out to cool off
[57:51] ; everyone was outside. And parents
[57:53] would always make you recite Tang
[57:54] poetry or something.
[57:56] Right, cooling off under the
[57:57] streetlights. I guess you...
[58:00] You probably didn't.
[58:01] I did. You had air conditioning when
[58:03] you were young, right?
[58:04] I never went, but I saw others doing it
[58:07] . I always thought it seemed quite nice
[58:09] .
[58:10] Just enjoying the breeze, having a bit
[58:12] of poetry, that simple comfort.
[58:15] Yeah, exactly, exactly.
[58:18] When I was a kid, my upbringing was
[58:20] quite strict.
[58:21] And also, where I lived when I was
[58:23] young, I never lived in a lane house.
[58:25] Hmm.
[58:26] I never lived in a Shikumen; I grew up
[58:28] in one of those small Western-style
[58:30] houses. I think...I mean, because, well
[58:39] , it was like that.
[58:46] Did you have a flush toilet or just a
[58:48] chamber pot back then?
[58:50] That’s what I mean, my...
[58:52] It wasn't one of those Shikumen houses.
[58:54] Because the Shikumen era really meant
[58:57] ...
[58:57] The era of the chamber pot, right? Even
[59:01] when I went to take math tutoring
[59:03] outside, at the home of a math teacher
[59:06] who lived in a Shikumen—I remember it
[59:09] clearly—every Saturday around six or
[59:11] seven, there would be that...the smell
[59:14] of the night soil truck arriving.
[59:17] Yeah, the smell of the honey wagon. It
[59:19] left such a deep impression on me. I
[59:22] couldn't listen to a single thing in
[59:23] class; my mind was completely taken
[59:25] over by that scent. It's hard to forget
[59:27] , and impossible not to notice that
[59:29] smell. The smells you experienced in
[59:31] childhood are unforgettable.
[59:33] I don't remember a thing that math
[59:34] teacher said, only that I was in their
[59:36] house.
[59:37] Whenever I see math now, I think of
[59:38] that smell.
[59:39] The stench wafting in under the dim
[59:41] light. That's the only impression I
[59:43] have of that math class. Your math was
[59:45] never good.
[59:46] I blame that night soil truck. If it
[59:48] weren't for that truck, my math
[59:49] would've been fine.
[59:49] You're an artist.
[59:51] True.
[59:52] Actually, among us, you’ve stayed in
[59:53] Shanghai the longest.
[59:54] Really?
[59:55] Hmm.
[59:57] That is true. I’m really curious
[59:58] about something: why are Shanghainese
[60:00] people so into following trends? See,
[60:01] that’s actually...
[60:03] Historically speaking, if you think
[60:04] about it, the very word "fashionable"
[60:06] started in Shanghai.
[60:07] Oh, right.
[60:08] Really?
[60:09] Yeah, they say 100 years of fashion—
[60:11] China's fashion started in Shanghai.
[60:14] Starting from 181...this year. OK, so
[60:17] what is "Shanghai style"? It actually
[60:19] describes this road from Nanjing East
[60:21] Road to Jing'an Temple. We always had
[60:23] someone in the neighborhood when we
[60:25] were kids who was particularly good at
[60:27] sewing or something, not necessarily
[60:28] professional, but they could make all
[60:30] sorts of......
[60:31] pretty clothes and things. Do you have
[60:33] memories of that from your childhood?
[60:35] When I was little, my mom made all my
[60:36] clothes.
[60:37] Oh, your mom was that talented?
[60:39] I would point out a flower I saw in a
[60:41] magazine, and my mom would embroider it
[60:43] for me, and she’d make me shirts with
[60:45] those Peter Pan collars—my mom made
[60:47] everything for me. So Mu Xin's words
[60:49] are quite moving. I seem to recall you
[60:51] saying that the suits Mu Xin described,
[60:53] he actually never wore them himself.
[60:54] No, no, no, no. He was just a child at
[60:57] the time.
[60:58] Right.
[60:59] By the time he grew up, he couldn't
[61:01] wear suits. He went to Shanghai during
[61:04] the occupation; he was born in '27, so
[61:06] he was 20 in '47, but in '40, '41, '42,
[61:09] '43...
[61:10] He was in Shanghai.
[61:11] So he witnessed Shanghai at that time,
[61:14] hmm.
[61:14] Actually, I've researched this period,
[61:16] and Shanghai during this time was
[61:17] incredible. Just think about it, the
[61:19] Hongxiang Department Store we hear
[61:20] about today, the person behind it was
[61:22] actually a tailor from Chuansha.
[61:23] A seventeen-year-old from Chuansha.
[61:26] He came to Nanjing Road in Shanghai to
[61:28] work as a tailor, and then gradually,
[61:31] by his 20s, he opened a store like that
[61:33] , Hongxiang; the name was Jin Hongxiang
[61:35] .
[61:35] So he was making clothes for people,
[61:38] and it wasn't traditional ethnic
[61:40] clothing, but modern qipaos and things
[61:42] like that. Whatever it was, it was
[61:44] essentially making modern fashion.
[61:46] Oh.
[61:46] So fashion really started from Shanghai
[61:49] .
[61:49] Did your mother follow fashion trends
[61:50] back then?
[61:51] My mom, my mom did at the time. In my
[61:53] memory, my mom would go get a perm when
[61:55] I was little.
[61:55] Oh, right, right.
[61:57] Perming was a big deal, and then
[61:59] she’d even make me get one.
[62:01] Like when I was six, my mom had already
[62:03] started curling my hair.
[62:04] And my mom would spend a whole month's
[62:06] salary on a pair of leather shoes.
[62:07] Oh. My mom really loved leather shoes,
[62:10] whether they were cowhide or sheepskin,
[62:12] she just loved shoes and was willing to
[62:14] spend the money. And she wasn't the
[62:16] only one; I had many aunts around me
[62:18] who were very willing to spend their
[62:19] money when they were young, saying, "
[62:21] I'll spend a month's wages just to buy
[62:23] a piece of clothing or a pair of shoes.
[62:24] " It's hard to imagine now.
[62:26] That's called being self-indulgent.
[62:28] Yes, yes, yes, yes, my mother was very
[62:30] self-indulgent. Shanghai really has two
[62:32] sides at the same time. On one hand,
[62:34] there's that pursuit of fashion, and on
[62:36] the other hand, in my memory, Shanghai
[62:38] fashion was also people wearing pajamas
[62:40] on the street—the more vulgar side,
[62:41] too.
[62:42] No, I'm telling you, the pants...
[62:44] Right, pajama pants and pajamas. But
[62:46] think about it, do other cities have
[62:48] this "pajama" thing?
[62:49] Ah.
[62:50] Maybe not. Do you agree with that? I
[62:53] don't know, I mean, you're asking me
[62:56] directly. You're saying this pajama
[62:58] habit is actually a small detail of an
[63:00] exquisite life. Doesn't that make some
[63:03] sense?
[63:03] This line is really a bit...
[63:05] There were no patterned clothes back in
[63:07] that era. But pajamas and pajama pants
[63:09] were mostly patterned.
[63:11] It was either striped, or plaid pajamas
[63:13] .
[63:14] Also, if I recall correctly, the
[63:15] average residential living space per
[63:17] person in Shanghai back then was only
[63:18] about four square meters.
[63:19] Back then, there were no living rooms
[63:21] or anything, so as soon as you stepped
[63:24] out. That was your living room; the
[63:26] street was your living room. Today we
[63:29] talk about bedrooms and living rooms,
[63:31] but back then, you’d just step out
[63:34] into the alleyway.
[63:35] So, I think it’s normal that people
[63:37] wore pajamas outside.
[63:38] We value privacy now, but back then,
[63:40] how many households in Shanghai even
[63:42] had closed doors?
[63:43] People would come and go freely without
[63:45] knocking, whether you were eating or
[63:46] arguing inside. When I was a kid, I
[63:48] didn't see anything wrong with people
[63:49] wearing pajamas on the street; I
[63:50] thought it was perfectly reasonable.
[63:52] That was the Shanghai street scene,
[63:54] exactly. Or there was this feeling,
[63:55] this silent understanding among
[63:56] Shanghainese: "You're wearing pajamas,
[63:58] so what if I am too?" It was just
[63:59] everyone.
[64:00] It felt like nobody cared about it.
[64:02] Because the homes were small; that era
[64:04] probably caused it. When you first came
[64:07] back, was it perfume?
[64:08] Yes, actually, I was just talking to
[64:11] Wang Dao about this. Around 1993, those
[64:13] so-called high-end fashion brands
[64:15] hadn't really entered the market to
[64:17] sell ready-to-wear clothing.
[64:18] Ready-to-wear was too expensive.
[64:21] So, the first high-end international
[64:23] brands to enter were cosmetics.
[64:25] Hmm.
[64:26] And it wasn't the full range of
[64:29] cosmetics we see today. Back then,
[64:31] people just wore lipstick. If you look
[64:34] at people now, they have elaborate
[64:37] makeup. I look and think, "Wow,
[64:39] they’ve used so many products," but
[64:41] back then, there weren't any.
[64:43] Right. Back then it was just lipstick,
[64:46] and slowly perfume; perfume came later.
[64:49] And there's another important detail:
[64:51] around 1993, Shanghai residents didn't
[64:53] have water heaters at home. You
[64:55] couldn't just take a shower. If you
[64:57] sprayed perfume and didn't wash, you'd
[64:59] still smell like it the next day.
[65:01] After '94 or '95, water heaters started
[65:04] to appear.
[65:05] I never wore it.
[65:06] Perfume is pointless unless you have
[65:09] the means to bathe.
[65:10] Of course, back in the day, it's said
[65:12] that when perfume was invented in
[65:14] Europe, it was to mask body heat—
[65:16] To mask body odor.
[65:18] Hmm. The only woman I saw wearing
[65:20] lipstick and drawing her eyebrows when
[65:22] I was a kid—who was it? It was the
[65:24] mother of a classmate I grew up with,
[65:25] who I later stayed with in the
[65:27] countryside.
[65:28] Hmm.
[65:29] Her mother was already in her fifties
[65:31] back then. She wore lipstick and
[65:33] penciled her eyebrows every day, yet
[65:35] she was a genuine member of the working
[65:37] class.
[65:38] She was a female worker at the Shanghai
[65:40] Shenxin textile mill.
[65:41] And that was in Shanghai after the
[65:43] liberation.
[65:43] She had a—well, a knack for it. Back
[65:46] then, it was all about fabrics. She
[65:48] could talk to you while measuring, and
[65:50] she’d never get the dimensions wrong,
[65:52] yeah.
[65:52] She was a highly skilled veteran worker
[65:55] .
[65:55] She was a factory worker. Which is to
[65:58] say, female workers at the old Shenxin
[66:00] mill used to wear lipstick and brow
[66:02] makeup to work. Oh.
[66:03] Take the show "Blossoms Shanghai," for
[66:06] example. There's that scene with Lingzi
[66:09] returning from Japan. It really makes
[66:11] you think about how so many people from
[66:13] Shanghai actually went to Japan back
[66:15] then.
[66:16] That's right. Plenty of people from
[66:18] Shanghai went to North America and
[66:20] other places, right? But when they came
[66:22] back...
[66:24] It was only those who went to Japan who
[66:26] brought back habits like wearing makeup
[66:29] . This sense of refinement really
[66:33] flourished more in Asia.
[66:34] Ah.
[66:35] Well, America is huge, after all.
[66:37] Mm.
[66:38] Once you integrate into America, you
[66:40] aren't necessarily...
[66:41] Americans don't dress up. Americans
[66:42] themselves don't even dress up. America
[66:44] is very—it’s very casual. Meaning,
[66:46] whoever you were when you left,
[66:47] you’re likely still that same person
[66:49] when you return. There’s no pressure
[66:50] there to turn you into someone else.
[66:52] Mm.
[66:53] New York might be an exception, of
[66:55] course, but if you go to Tokyo, for
[66:56] instance, even if you're just doing odd
[66:58] jobs, you walk out of a department
[67:00] store. You can’t even get out without
[67:02] passing through a department store.