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September 14, 2016

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Home » Opinion » Chinese Views

China’s urban consumers lose appetite for simple tastes and basic food knowledge

I have the greatest respect for those who are skilled at cooking, like my father-in-law, who has demonstrated considerable resourcefulness and originality in preparing good food.

We Chinese believe that nothing harmonizes like a satisfying meal. Thus nearly all Chinese festivals and gatherings provide excellent excuses for extravagant eating and drinking.

And in WeChat moments, a common practice is to show off a sumptuous feast that is about to be consumed.

Ironically, a more redeeming quality is someone’s capacity for simple food, in his “seeking the food he eats, and pleased with what he gets.”

Alas, except for some young women watchful of their appearance, most people no longer practice abstinence from eating.

In Chinese there is the widely quoted maxim that “you are capable of achieving anything if you can chew roots of grass.”

In the “Analects” one of Confucius’ favorite disciples is Yan Hui, who “lives on a single meal a day, with water for his drink, and lives in the lowest hovels of the city.”

Zeng Guofan (1811-1872), one of the most outstanding personages in Chinese history reverenced by both Mao Zedong and Chiang Kai-shek, would painstakingly avoid sumptuous meals; and when he could not, would only pick from the couple of dishes closest to his hand.

People my age were born at a time when food was valued (or rationed) — now condescendingly known as a “period of scarcity.”

There were no junk food, cola, or snacks, and waste was a sin.

In time we grew up with a healthy sensitivity to simple but healthy fare, prepared by our parents.

A homely meal

One advantage of eating at home is that you retain some notion of the hand that feeds you.

In a tech-savvy society, we are in danger of equating that hand with that of the deliveryman.

Then there is the challenge of how to extend our attention from those who prepare our food, to those who engage in the backbreaking toil of sowing, cultivation, and harvesting, and ultimately to the mysterious forces that allow all this to happen.

In modern age, our traditional respect for the hand that feeds us has become unhinged. The hand often turns out to be no more than a machine.

Rather than feeling thankful to a machine, we choose to feel glorified as consumers and hedonists, as we are encouraged to go from one delicacy to another. Our attention has long extended beyond the national borders, as we roam the surface of the Earth in search of novel foods.

Our education is deficient in many aspects, but none so glaringly problematic as regards food.

In Tetsuko Kuroyanagi’s “Totoo-chan, the Little Girl at the Window,” a book I ordered for my son over the weekend, before a meal, the title character’s class would sing in chorus a premeal song and then eat with relish the “taste of the sea,” and “taste of the mountain.”

In an entertaining way the students imbibe the importance of balanced food.

A 2009 article in the Journal Jiaoshi Bolan by Tang Xinzi, in discussing Japanese food education, the author reminisced about participating in a school event in a class of fifth-graders in Japan.

Religious connotations

At this event, a memorial ceremony to the school garden, parents and students were treated to 1,000 pieces of mochi made of the 1,000 kg of glutinous rice planted, grown, and harvested by the class themselves.

Among the many messages in the ceremony included the importance of balanced, regular food, and the practice of chewing the food well before swallowing it.

Very few Chinese kids I come across today show the benefits of such food education.

The philosophy behind food education is that, similarly as we cherish the people we happen to encounter in our life’s path, we should also value the karma that enables a grain of rice to end up in our rice bowl.

Our relationship with our food determines a lot of things.

Not surprisingly nearly all religions contain injunctions about food.

Buddha proclaimed the sanctity of life in all forms, Confucius warned against the use of snares or the making of pitfalls in catching game, and in Christianity there are the prayers to be said before each meal.

In Islam, fasting (from dawn to sunset) during Ramadan is meant to instill fear in God, and teach about the value of food, self-discipline, sacrifice, and empathy for those who are less fortunate.

By contrast, we all know how destructive unregulated, unrestrained human appetites can be.

We can no longer afford such a laissez-faire attitude towards an issue of such vital importance.

In this Mid-Autumn Festival, which falls on tomorrow, when you sit before a well-spread table, do not forget to be thankful for the hands that make this possible.




 

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