No brief summary.
One year I went to France. It was a food and wine journey, starting from Paris, passing through Champagne, to Burgundy, and then to Beaujolais and Provence. Along the way, the scenery was infinite, and the food was infinite. Michelin chefs, castle hotels, various restaurants. Planting a winery, tasting wine in a wine cellar... It was a beautiful business trip. After more than ten days, at the end, on the train back to Paris, a young man in the same group took out two packets of mustard from his bag. We screamed and kindly Incomparable, like queuing up for communion, evenly distributed one by one, just like the apple in Shangganling. I rolled the shredded mustard in the slices of bread and slowly chewed it. It wasn’t really delicious, but I still ate it with relish. Where is the mustard, it’s clearly a kind of nostalgia. If we lived in France for another month, we encountered a bottle of Lao Ganma hot sauce and applied it to our face as a serum. Loyalty to hometown food is universal. In China in the 19th century, the life of foreigners living in trading ports was far from being as comfortable as we imagined, and one of the pains was not being able to taste the taste of hometown. Harry Parks, who later became the British ambassador to China, came to China at the age of thirteen and ate countless Chinese meals, but his stomach was still British. When he returned to England in 1850, his first stop was to find a prime steakhouse and order an English steak, along with French fries and beer. In his diary, he wrote: "Because I pressed too hard, the steak was poorly cooked, and the fries were still raw. Still, I thought the meal was delicio
us."
On the one hand, with the smooth flow of information and the unhindered communication, the grievances about diet have gradually disappeared. You can also eat authentic French food in Beijing, and you can eat a Sichuan restaurant in New York. The taste is more Sichuan than Sichuan. On the other hand, with the actual disintegration of the urban-rural dual system, the concept of hometown has gradually disappeared, and the hometown in memory no longer exists, and can only be resurrected on the tip of the tongue. A person's taste as a child determines his life's taste preferences. At the same time, memories can always beautify reality, and the same is true of food, softened by the filter of time, and the folded baskets of the past are better than today's lobsters. Once, I accompanied my wife back to her high school, looking for the Mala Tang that she often ate when she was studying. The aunt who made Mala Tang actually knew her. Mala Tang is said to still taste like the old days. She ate it with relish, and finally packed a little condiment. Is it actually that delicious? She only got the taste of her teenage years from it, and she felt emotional. At least these were packed and brought back, and they were thrown away without eating. When people are in a foreign land, they recall the food in their hometown and the taste of their childhood. This is a fixed routine in life, proving that one has lived and loved.
Many people have disappeared in history, such as Meng Yuanlao. His life experience is not testable, but he left behind a book "Tokyo Dream Hualu". After the Northern Song Dynasty moved to the south, he recalled all the details of life in Tokyo. My favorite is the chapters related to food. The prosperity of Tokyo in the Northern Song Dynasty seems to be resurrected on the tip of the tongue. There are many authors similar to Meng Yuanlao. After 1949, many literati went to Taiwan or wandered overseas. Looking at the food articles of many literati, such as Tang Lusun, Bai Tiezheng, Qi Rushan, Gao Yang, Liang Shiqiu, etc., the words are full of nostalgia.
One year I went to France. It was a food and wine journey, starting from Paris, passing through Champagne, to Burgundy, and then to Beaujolais and Provence. Along the way, the scenery was infinite, and the food was infinite. Michelin chefs, castle hotels, various restaurants. Planting a winery, tasting wine in a wine cellar... It was a beautiful business trip. After more than ten days, at the end, on the train back to Paris, a young man in the same group took out two packets of mustard from his bag. We screamed and kindly Incomparable, like queuing up for communion, evenly distributed one by one, just like the apple in Shangganling. I rolled the shredded mustard in the slices of bread and slowly chewed it. It wasn’t really delicious, but I still ate it with relish. Where is the mustard, it’s clearly a kind of nostalgia. If we lived in France for another month, we encountered a bottle of Lao Ganma hot sauce and applied it to our face as a serum. Loyalty to hometown food is universal. In China in the 19th century, the life of foreigners living in trading ports was far from being as comfortable as we imagined, and one of the pains was not being able to taste the taste of hometown. Harry Parks, who later became the British ambassador to China, came to China at the age of thirteen and ate countless Chinese meals, but his stomach was still British. When he returned to England in 1850, his first stop was to find a prime steakhouse and order an English steak, along with French fries and beer. In his diary, he wrote: "Because I pressed too hard, the steak was poorly cooked, and the fries were still raw. Still, I thought the meal was delicio
us."
On the one hand, with the smooth flow of information and the unhindered communication, the grievances about diet have gradually disappeared. You can also eat authentic French food in Beijing, and you can eat a Sichuan restaurant in New York. The taste is more Sichuan than Sichuan. On the other hand, with the actual disintegration of the urban-rural dual system, the concept of hometown has gradually disappeared, and the hometown in memory no longer exists, and can only be resurrected on the tip of the tongue. A person's taste as a child determines his life's taste preferences. At the same time, memories can always beautify reality, and the same is true of food, softened by the filter of time, and the folded baskets of the past are better than today's lobsters. Once, I accompanied my wife back to her high school, looking for the Mala Tang that she often ate when she was studying. The aunt who made Mala Tang actually knew her. Mala Tang is said to still taste like the old days. She ate it with relish, and finally packed a little condiment. Is it actually that delicious? She only got the taste of her teenage years from it, and she felt emotional. At least these were packed and brought back, and they were thrown away without eating. When people are in a foreign land, they recall the food in their hometown and the taste of their childhood. This is a fixed routine in life, proving that one has lived and loved.
Many people have disappeared in history, such as Meng Yuanlao. His life experience is not testable, but he left behind a book "Tokyo Dream Hualu". After the Northern Song Dynasty moved to the south, he recalled all the details of life in Tokyo. My favorite is the chapters related to food. The prosperity of Tokyo in the Northern Song Dynasty seems to be resurrected on the tip of the tongue. There are many authors similar to Meng Yuanlao. After 1949, many literati went to Taiwan or wandered overseas. Looking at the food articles of many literati, such as Tang Lusun, Bai Tiezheng, Qi Rushan, Gao Yang, Liang Shiqiu, etc., the words are full of nostalgia.
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