China Food Yummy

  In the age of social media, "shipping CPs" has become one of the most enthusiastically pursued cultural pastimes among young people. The term "ke CP" refers to the fond imagining and fervent celebration of the relationship between two characters in a work of fiction. But how many people realize that the Chinese obsession with "pairing" is not confined to literature and film — it is deeply rooted in the dining tables we face every day? From the literary narrative of scholar-meets-beauty to the golden combination of soy milk and youtiao, the Chinese CP aesthetic has long been inscribed in the DNA of our taste buds. This "pairing" culture traces an unbroken lineage through classical literature — Zhang Sheng and Cui Yingying in Romance of the Western Chamber , whose love culminates in the wish that "all lovers under heaven may be united"; Liu Mengmei and Du Liniang in The Peony Pavilion , whose souls resonate beyond life and death; not to...

  Have you ever tried eating hot pot while listening to jazz? I gave it a shot once — Chongqing-style fiery hot pot paired with Miles Davis's Kind of Blue . The sensation was something like Su Shi inviting Tao Yuanming out for a bowl of mala tang . The fierce heat of the hot pot and the freedom of jazz met at a delicate point of equilibrium. The rhythm of tripe tumbling through crimson chili oil somehow achieved an uncanny synchronization with the syncopation of a trumpet. Recently I came across a fascinating analysis that connected the laid-back jazz of Avenue of Stars with the classical poetic aesthetic of "music integrating with setting." The article noted that Tao Yuanming's composed ease — "Plucking chrysanthemums by the eastern hedge, I gaze leisurely at the southern hills" — is essentially the same thing as jazz's unhurried swing rhythm. Both are telling you the same thing: relax, and savor this moment (see The Aesthetics of Music-Setting Fusion...

  Have you ever waited for someone to come home for dinner? The food is ready, laid out on the table, steam still rising. Then gradually, it grows cold. You don't want to start eating, because you feel the meal is incomplete until that person arrives. So you wait. The dishes grow cold, you heat them up, and they grow cold again. In that waiting there is hope, heartache, and an unspoken, faint sense of grievance. I read an article on ULifestyle that used Li Shangyin's verse "You ask when I'll return, but no date is set" to interpret the modern dilemma of mismatched schedules ( read the original article ). Li Shangyin, amid the night rain of Bashan, received a letter from his wife asking when he would come home. His answer was "no date is set." How lightly those three words fall from the pen, and how heavily they weigh on the heart of the one waiting. The article also quoted a line from the song "Thinking of You": "Those exam papers that sta...