A question that has plagued the corporate worker for years
Foodthink’s Take
If not takeout, then what? This seems to be a problem that has plagued office workers for a long time, yet has never been seriously discussed. Fortunately, the wisdom of the crowd is infinite. In this edition of “Eat Well”, friends from all walks of life have contributed their own tips for “eating properly”, creating a “meal survival guide” that is fast, efficient, and affordable. Come and see if any of these tricks work for you!

Start with the simplest meals
@Nanxiangzi (Female, media professional): I haven’t had takeout once this year. I recently learned how to make clay pot rice on Xiaohongshu and found it to be a time-saving, convenient, healthy, and delicious method. I highly recommend it! First, get a small clay pot and rinse a cup of rice (one person’s portion; two cups for two people), then soak it for about 10 minutes. Bring it to a boil on high heat, then turn it down to low. When the water is almost gone, drizzle some oil around the edges. Place pre-cut sausage and cured meat on top of the rice, cover with a lid, and simmer on low for two or three minutes. Finally, crack in an egg, add some vegetables and a bit of sauce, then turn off the heat. A fragrant bowl of clay pot rice is complete. The whole process takes about 15 minutes and avoids the greasy smoke of stir-frying. Very nice.
@Sloth (Female, Shenzhen): Here are three dishes I’ve developed recently. Free of charge, you’re welcome!
Chop vegetables and meat into large chunks, throw them into a high-pressure rice cooker with a spice packet, vinegar, and soy sauce. Fifteen minutes later, it’s ready to eat—absolutely delicious. Stir-fry eggs, ham sausages, a bit of greens, and alkaline noodles together to recreate the taste of street-stall fried noodles. Whisk two eggs with boiling water and steam them for fifteen minutes to get an egg custard with a mirror-smooth texture!
@Vino (Female, 34, Editor, Hangzhou): I stock up on plenty of semi-finished products—river snail rice noodles, xiaomian, Dingxi wide noodles, and Fuzhou fish balls. Boiling these with some fresh vegetables is always tastier, healthier, and more hygienic than takeout.I’ve told my friends many times: if you want to give a gift, give food; it’s practical and solves a problem. I have no use for things that are beautiful but useless. As a result, friends from all over the country send me local specialties!

@Mr Wang (25, Kunming): The main reason I stopped ordering takeout is that it tasted terrible. This awakened my Sichuanese genes, and the food I cook myself has become tastier and tastier—even my partner loves it. The combination of negative factors and positive reinforcement has created a virtuous cycle; I now find a great sense of satisfaction and achievement in cooking.
When I don’t feel like fussing but still want a nutritionally balanced meal, I mix meat, vegetables, and staples together—for example, fried rice, rice noodles, or dried noodles with meat, eggs, and veg. With just a few simple seasonings, it can be incredibly fragrant and delicious. The secret is to adjust the timing of when ingredients enter the pan based on their nature; the staple must always go in last. However, for meat that takes longer to cook, I process it until it’s about half-done, set it aside, cook the eggs and vegetables separately, and then add the meat and staples back in. This practical act of cooking allows one to discover the truth and order of gastronomy; it easily draws one into a world of “day and night, kitchen and love”.
“Cook Once, Eat for a Week”: Homemade Ready-Meals

@LTT (Female, 30, Beijing): My approach is to marinate the meat and leave it in the fridge the night before, then steam or quickly stir-fry it when I get home the next day. I highly recommend looking into Cantonese cooking; there are plenty of recipes for marinated dishes you can learn from. For vegetables, just wash and stir-fry them quickly, or blanch them and drizzle over some soy sauce or oyster sauce. If you can eat salads, that’s even easier.
@DolphinMomMi (Female, Beijing, 47): I order delivery no more than three times a year, and only when there’s a special situation at home. I once went over a year without ordering in. When commuting, I wake up early every day to cook and take an insulated lunch box to the office. When working from home, I use my weekends to buy meat in bulk and make home-made meal prep to be frozen in portions. Suitable dishes for freezing include braised pork ribs, stewed beef, and so on.
Taking stewed beef as an example: I’ll stew 1.5kg at once and divide it into three boxes. This allows me to quickly enjoy various meals over the next two months, such as beef brisket with radish, braised beef noodles, or beef stewed with cabbage and potatoes. By defrosting the braised beef the day before, all I need to do the next morning is add water, salt, vegetables, and an egg to have a nutritious bowl of beef noodles—convenient and delicious. I also pre-make beef sauce, minced pork, and mushroom sauce to add variety to my daily diet. If eating at home every day feels too monotonous, I occasionally dine out to change the pace and enjoy some relaxation.
@DouDou: Many people around me think it’s incredibly hard to quit delivery, and they’re curious as to why I can “persist” in cooking and bringing my own lunch. Actually, I don’t feel like I’m “persisting” at all. You only “persist” when you’re overcoming a hardship. In the process of experimenting with home meal prep, I’ve felt a strong sense of fulfilment; I even enjoy the entire process and the results. If you decide to try it, I suggest starting with minimally processed frozen ingredients or shelf-stable convenient foods. The most common are frozen mixed vegetables, frozen prawns, and the pre-cooked corn on the cob that many people like lately. I love browsing the frozen aisles in supermarkets; the ready-meals there are a great reference. Established frozen foods have usually passed market tests and aren’t taste-less, so we can use them as a guide to replicate the dishes at home, including the level of cooking.
Eating isn’t something you do alone
@Chongchong: Besides cooking for myself, I also take turns having dinner parties with friends. We really need to find a way to live communally; cooking alone is just too difficult.
@qiqi: I remember when I went to view a flat before moving, my new flatmate asked me with a grin: “Do you usually cook?” I saw that the kitchen counters in the new place were clean and bright, and the pots, pans, oils, and sauces all had their own designated spots. What was even more surprising was that the fridge had no “fridge smell”; the vegetables were arranged neatly inside, as if they knew they wouldn’t be forgotten.
My new flatmate loves tinkering with steamed buns, baozi, dumplings, and all sorts of flour-based foods. I’m often lucky enough to be fed, which naturally gives me more motivation to research new recipes to share. In the two years since I moved in, I’ve learned so many dishes I couldn’t make before, and I’ve almost stopped ordering delivery entirely. Eating has changed from a problem that needed solving into something I look forward to every day.

Is the work canteen appealing again?
@cutedog (Male, 24, Researcher): The few organisations I’ve worked for all had canteens, and because they’re subsidised, the food is relatively cheap. Although after a while my colleagues often complain that the flavours are monotonous, it’s still far better than being forced to order delivery. Thinking about it carefully, the food is actually quite diverse. Once inside, you can see standard stir-fries, as well as specialty noodles, pastries, and braised goods, such as braised duck heads and pork knuckles. After getting your food, there’s fruit and yoghurt at the checkout, making the diet fairly balanced.
@Vino (Female, 34, Editor, Hangzhou): Two years ago, I worked in a big city, and there were only two restaurants downstairs from the office. I still insisted on going down to eat. Later, I made a suggestion to the company, and the boss hired a cook whose salary was paid by the firm. We each paid 20 yuan a day for the ingredients, and we got five dishes and a soup every meal. It was pure bliss!
@Yuyang (Male, 29, Beijing): The biggest change since joining Foodthink is that I cook much more frequently. On office days, colleagues take turns cooking for everyone. Because there are so many of us, there are at least six dishes every time, which has really helped me hone my skills. The most comforting thing is that regardless of whether the food is good or bad, everyone is quite forgiving, which gives colleagues with average skills the space to improve.
So, unlike a typical work canteen, what we gain here isn’t just a dining perk, but the ability and habit of cooking. These skills and habits extend into your home life, allowing you to cook more for your family. Although it’s often a bit clumsy and I occasionally have a disaster in the kitchen, looking back, those braised tofu with spring onions, pork rib and seaweed soups, spinach with nuts, and braised tofu slabs were all made by my own two hands!

The quiet rise of community canteens
@Road: There’s a community canteen near my complex. It primarily caters to the elderly, though they’ve explicitly stated it’s open to all ages. The variety is great, with prices ranging from 7 to 15 yuan. I don’t have huge demands for variety in flavour; what I truly appreciate is how clean and refreshing the food tastes—it’s not overloaded with oil or salt, and it doesn’t have that stale smell you get when food is trapped in a plastic container. Most importantly, compared to the dry, undercooked rice from deliveries, the rice here is so good I could eat a bowl of it on its own. Sometimes I feel the biggest difference between eating at home and eating out is simply that bowl of steaming hot rice! This community canteen gives me that feeling. My only gripe is that it’s not very friendly to the working crowd; dinner is only available until shortly after 6 pm, but many of us don’t get home until after 7.

@lislie: The first community canteen I tried was located near an exemplary renovated wet market. It had an open kitchen, and while the variety wasn’t much more than a self-service fast-food joint, the plates looked fresh and balanced, with a good mix of meat, fish, soup, vegetables, and grains. The space was large and offered a la carte options; there was even a notice next to the rice offering discounts for delivery drivers. The lunchtime crowd consisted mainly of two groups: local elderly residents and office workers (I heard many companies provide meal cards for their staff to use here).
Beyond government-run canteens, I’ve also eaten at privately run community shops. They post their lunch and dinner sets in a WeChat group daily—usually a Yunnan-style main and a dessert (you can also order homemade wine or drinks made by the owner on the day). It costs around 40 yuan; those who want a meal join a sign-up list in the group, then collect their food from the kitchen and find a seat. There’s a tacit understanding that everyone returns their plates to the kitchen afterwards. The owner told me that while some people initially came just to check it out, it’s now mostly regulars whom they know by name. Most of the customers are small groups of young people who exchange greetings or small gifts with the owner when they leave; the atmosphere is warm and cosy.
Discovering tasty and affordable budget eateries
When I worked near Zhongguancun, I couldn’t afford the high-end fast food geared towards corporate professionals, so I went to a weight-based eatery downstairs. It had a very casual name and was tiny, but it was packed at lunchtime. I ate there every day, and I still think of it often. I made a point of eating there one last time on my final day of work as a memento. Now, when I’m occasionally in the area for errands, I still go out of my way to eat there. Seeing that it’s still open and busy makes me happy. It’s a form of resistance, and a way of protecting something. A giant city should be able to accommodate a small fast-food shop and a group of ordinary people.

@I don’t want to be a food influencer: If you stop ordering delivery, you can just eat at the little restaurants downstairs. I’m not sure if it was my desire to order less delivery that led me to discover all these local spots, or the other way around. Anyway, once I decided to walk or cycle to nearby places to eat, I found all sorts of dumpling shops, stir-fry joints, and noodle shops (one of which has some of the most authentic Roujiamo in Beijing)… there are even three Chongqing noodle shops, some of which are frequently recommended on Xiaohongshu. When I used to order delivery, I completely overlooked these shops; I had no idea what they served and assumed they were just unhygienic stalls. After passing by a few times, I realised they aren’t “hole-in-the-wall” joints at all! They are actually very clean and bright little shops. The excitement of discovering these delicious, affordable spots is wonderful—better even than finding the “best xxx in the city”. After all, you can only afford to visit those high-end places once a month, but the little restaurants nearby are what actually sustain your daily life.
Find your local market
Recently, I found a wet market near my office. You can buy exactly as much meat as you want, and they can even slice or shred it based on my needs. I never knew this was possible! If I want to make a dish but don’t know which cut to buy, I can just ask the vendor, which saves me from scrolling and obsessing over it on my phone. This is much more convenient for me; I get home and start cooking immediately, without having to worry about thawing. I’ve become a bit addicted to browsing the market lately; I always wander through after work and have found that they really have everything. As a Southerner, seeing vegetables I used to eat as a child in a Northern market was a real emotional moment. The wet market is ‘what you see is what you get’—it’s worth a stroll when you have time.

@噬可可 (Female, 28, Researcher, Tianjin): I have plenty of breakfast stalls near my home, as well as Tianjin’s largest vegetable market; on weekend mornings, I often cycle to the morning market to pick up fresh and affordable ingredients. Later, I discovered the sustainable markets organised by Tianjin’s ‘Green Footprint’, which put me in touch with several local small-scale organic farmers, making it easy to order vegetables weekly. With vegetables delivered straight to my door, the friction of cooking has diminished. I also have like-minded colleagues at work, so we order together and share cooking tips and culinary inspiration.
@管老师 (Male): There are two reasons why I avoid takeaways. First, I developed a habit of cooking for myself whenever I’m not away on business. My vegetables are delivered fresh from a nearby organic farm, allowing me to curate my own selection; my staples and grains come from farmers near my workplace or through organic platforms—everything is kept simple. Having cooked for myself for so long, I’ve even cut back on salt (a jar of soybean paste from the Beijing Organic Farmers’ Market has lasted me two years). Second, while I cannot cook when travelling, it provides a wonderful opportunity to explore local flavours. Small-town eateries and farmers’ markets might not always tout themselves as ‘organic’ or ‘ecological’, but they excel in using clean ingredients and honest methods. Now, whenever I visit a new place, I love wandering through the farmers’ markets. When I find a local specialty that appeals to me, I add the vendor on WeChat so I can order from them remotely in the future, and occasionally chat with them to learn about local produce and traditional techniques.

@Bubble Bear: In 2018, while I was a visiting scholar in the US, I discovered a Farmers’ Market held every week in a park not far from the university. My mother was accompanying me on my studies at the time and was very keen to experience it. In her words: “I want to see for myself whether foreign markets are any better than the one at the head of the slope in Xintianzhai Zhongpo.” We bought okra, tomatoes, pumpkins, green beans, and aubergines—mainly vegetables. Most vendors had pre-weighed the produce into small boxes; once you’d chosen, you just tipped them all into a bag and left. It was brisk and efficient, very characteristic of the American South.
One day after returning to China, my mother told me that while browsing a shopping centre, she found a small organic food shop on the lower ground floor. The girl in the shop was very warm and even gave her two bunches of slightly wilted bok choy. They were a bit wilted, but that didn’t matter—a soak in water fixed them right up. That evening, I had the stir-fried bok choy my mother made; it was sweet and fresh, tasting just like my childhood. The next day, I rushed to the shop. It turned out to be a little place called “Ji Shi Tang”, a liaison station for various farms around Beijing, specialising in direct sales from organic farms and hosting the “Beijing Organic Farmers’ Market” every week. I later became a member of Ji Shi Tang, witnessed the shop’s relocation, and even volunteered there. Come to think of it, it’s been nearly seven years now.
From Farm to Table
On the ninth day of the first lunar month, I found an eco-park near my home and shared a greenhouse with ten other people. I have about 60 square metres of land there where I’ve planted some vegetables, hoping for a decent harvest. I can’t speak for the long term, but I think I won’t be ordering takeout for at least six months.
@Kouzi (Female, 60, Farmer): If I were at home, I could go forever without takeout. I’d like to recommend “Mai Fan” to everyone. Mai Fan is a common food in the North; in Henan, it’s called “Zheng Cai” (steamed vegetables). As the name suggests, it’s made by mixing wheat flour with vegetables and steaming them. In my hometown in Shandong, the Jiao Dong dialect term “Ban La” reveals the ultimate secret: mix the wheat flour with the vegetables, steam them in a basket, and then mix with seasonings before eating.
Although the variety of vegetables for Mai Fan is richest in spring, it’s actually suitable for all four seasons. When I go to the village market, I often scavenge some discarded outer cabbage leaves and carrot tops; these common vegetables make excellent materials for Mai Fan. Slightly older carrot tops, paired with grated carrots and flour, are even better when steamed. Compared to baking, boiling, frying, or stir-frying, steamed Mai Fan loses fewer nutrients and preserves the original flavour of the food. It provides both carbohydrates and vegetables, is not fussy about ingredients, and is low-difficulty with no barrier to entry—perfect for complete beginners in the kitchen.
Related Reading
Our vegetables and grains are ordered from farmers using ecological planting methods. Clean, healthy soil rich in organic matter produces crops that not only taste excellent but are also rich in essential trace elements. When cooked simply, these meals have a certain healing effect on the body. After six months, the physical and mental state of our dining companions improved significantly. Naturally, they developed a physiological craving for the healthy produce of the Small Dining Table and even the act of “getting their meals on time”. This was especially true after a weekend of “eating whatever was around at home” or “indulging in lavish parties”; they looked forward to the variety of vegetables in their Small Dining Table lunchboxes with great anticipation.
Editing: Yuyang


