Seven years ago I'd read Fuchsia Dunlop's Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper: A Sweet Sour Memoir of Eating in China and it was revelatory, helping me understand the food I've eaten and taken for granted most of my life; the pleasure I take in jellyfish, chicken feet, tofu, hashima, wood ear fungus, for instance and the bewilderment I experienced when I went to the US and experienced American Chinese food.
In Invitation to a Banquet, Dunlop delves deeper into Chinese food, "how should we understand it, and….how should we eat it". The book is divided into 4 sections - Hearth (on the origins of Chinese food), Farm (on ingredients), Kitchen (on culinary techniques), and Table (more general observations on Chinese cuisine). In Hearth, Dunlop argues that for the ancient Chinese, it is "the transformation of raw ingredients through cooking [that marks] the boundary not only between humans and their savage ancestors, but between the people of the civilised world…and the barbarians who lived around its edges". Raw foods are extremely rare in Chinese cuisine. Not only that, the Chinese emphasise the transformative nature of cooking - cutting, seasoning ingredients until they look very different from their original state. And "in that sense, a stir-fry of slivered meat and vegetables is more essentially Chinese than a slab of roast pork". While foreigners use knives and forks to cut up chunks of meat on their plates, the Chinese eat food that has already been transformed into small "chopstickable pieces" through cutting. The "violence and savagery of knives" is restricted to the kitchen.
In Hearth, Dunlop also touches on the quintessential elements of a Chinese meal - rice, soup (which may be the only liquid at the table, serving as both food and drink). Mixing and matching of different complementary and contrasting ingredients is key. Seldom do you get that sharp delineation of the meat dish and the veg. Dunlop also points out that traditionally, it is rare for the Chinese to eat a lot of meat. Whereas one pork chop would feed only one westerner, the Chinese would cut pork into slivers, stir fry it with a complementary vegetable and this would feed an entire family. For this reason, westerners tended to view Chinese cooking with great suspicion as they couldn't tell what all those finely chopped ingredients were. Dunlop also points out that for the Chinese, food is more than nourishment but also medicinal; far better to maintain or bring the body into balance via diet than to resort to drugs. When westerners criticise Chinese food for being unhealthy, it is because Anglo-American takeaway food bears no relation to what most Chinese people actually eat (e.g. westerners choosing fried rice over plain rice, spooning oily food into their bowls rather than picking up pieces of food with their chopsticks and leaving the oil in the serving dish, eating large servings of rich food rather than one small chunk of, say, fatty Dongpo pork with plain rice, some greens and broth).
In Ingredients, Dunlop reframes the Chinese relationship with ingredients. For the Chinese chef, the question is not "is this edible" but "how can I make this edible"? The Chinese don't eat marginal parts from "poverty and desperation" but because it is a privilege to dine on foods that require great care and creativity to render not only edible, but delicious. Hence the use of all manner of unusual ingredients from the swim bladder of fish and pomelo pith, to pig ears and goose webs. I loved the (non-exhaustive) list Dunlop provided of all these Chinese words for mouthfeel; I was only familiar with a small fraction of these.
Dunlop debunks the misconception that the Chinese don't care about the provenance and seasonality of their ingredients, unlike, say, a Tuscan restaurant. While westerners will pay for handmade pasta, Japanese sushi or dry-aged beef, they are much less willing to pay for top ingredients in a Chinese restaurant. She touches on the ingredients that underpin Chinese cuisine - the soybean, vegetables, pork, the mutton of the Muslim Hui people and qu, the dessicated micro-organisms that the Chinese add to their food for fermentation (to make rice wine, fermented beans, soy sauce, etc).
In Kitchen, Dunlop discusses different culinary approaches and techniques, for instance, the emphasis on "root flavours" versus "blended flavours", Chinese knife skills, the art of steaming and the art of stir-frying (which Dunlop clarifies is a catch all term that covers many many different kinds of frying). Dunlop helps the reader appreciate the technical complexity of "stir-frying" and how much more challenging it is compared to other cuisines, where chefs have the luxury of tasting their food and making adjustments to the flavour.
In the final section, Table, Dunlop offers some general observations on Chinese cuisine - the diversity of ingredients from China's "tapestry of lands and climates", the Chinese use of sugar and sweetness in dishes that are not meant to be eaten as desserts; trompe l'oeil vegetarian foods made to resemble (and taste like) meat; Chinese cultural appropriation (e.g with Deda Western Food Restaurant in Shanghai), food as an expression of love and care for the Chinese.
Invitation to a Banquet is a fascinating and informative read for anyone interested in food. I'd never really thought much about China's regional cuisines previously; I'd grown up eating Cantonese food in my family and was occasionally exposed to other types of Chinese food - Teochew, Shanghainese, Sichuan etc - but I wasn't terribly curious about Chinese food. Reading Fuchsia Dunlop changed that and made me want to visit the Universal Prosperity Tavern in Shaoxing to have lacquered sparrows' wings and broad beans; to have braised pomelo pith with shrimp eggs in Guangdong; to visit Yangzhou to try dishes that showed off their "extraordinary knifework"; to Datong in Shanxi province for its "pasta arts"; to Deda Western Food Restaurant in Shanghai.
Five stars.