Autumn: Friendships Bear Fruit at the Little Dining Table | Nun Yi Guo’s Little Dining Table
Foodthink Says
I. The ‘Age-Reversing’ Little Dining Table
The ‘bitter summer’ was a hard one to endure. The heat in Chengdu has been exceptionally prolonged this year, with everyone switching back and forth between the sweltering outdoors and air-conditioned interiors. This constant adaptation drains much of one’s vital energy (qi). However, perhaps thanks to half a year of regular routines and healthy eating, the dining companions have been able to collect their meals punctually every day. This suggests they are in good health, avoiding the typical seasonal ailments seen in previous years.
This sense of achievement has left the cook in high spirits, and she feels it is time to build on this momentum, making the most of the ‘Golden September and Silver October’ to help everyone build up their energy for the winter.
As for the cook herself, she is brimming with energy every day—a credit to the Little Dining Table.
When spring arrived, I drew up an ‘age-reversing plan’, hoping to restore my mind and body through a comprehensive adjustment of exercise, diet, and routine, and to slow the onset of age-related ailments. After all, I am in my late forties, and age is an unrelenting force.
If I want to remain clear-minded and mobile in my old age, I must start preparing now: increasing exercise, maintaining a regular routine, and eating a balanced diet.
Since the Little Dining Table began, the dining companions have enjoyed a life of eating whatever the farmers have growing in their fields. Nearly 180 days have passed, and the effects are striking. Every time I work in the kitchen, I am filled with creative passion, and a sense of joy born from friendship.
More than once, I have wanted to proclaim to the world just how wonderful the Little Dining Table is: Planning the combination of staples and dishes based on the supplies in the fridge and larder is an excellent form of mental gymnastics; every step—washing, chopping, prepping, and stir-frying—exercises the coordination between the hands, eyes, brain, and heart.
II. Autumn: The Little Dining Table Bears the Fruit of Friendship
For me, the feedback from the dining buddies is the finest tonic of all.
Looking back at the past six months of the Little Dining Table, we have encountered many, many problems, all of which we have overcome through solidarity and mutual aid:
When the pipes in the cook’s rented house malfunctioned and she was without water for a while, a neighbouring dining buddy sent an invitation. She moved the cook—along with her pots and ingredients—into her own home, establishing a temporary Little Dining Table outpost. This makeshift base had a steamer, and during those days, we ate many steamed and mixed dishes; the long-awaited steamed pork ribs with rice flour finally made it onto the menu.
Once, I found kohlrabi in a vegetable pack from our farmer friend, Hu Xuemei. Ah, this was a vegetable I had long forgotten (and had deliberately avoided). But since I had received it, and thinking that the dining buddies might never have tried it, I quietly sliced the kohlrabi into fine strips and stir-fried them with shredded pork, sprinkling green garlic shoots over it just before serving. In the process of making this dish, I faced memories I’d rather not revisit, while striving to reflect on what I had learned from my past life.
In the summer, the vegetables sent by the farmer friends consisted mostly of leafy greens and gourds. When faced with vegetables that required a vast amount of time to clean, the cook considered alternatives: either asking the farmer friend not to send such items, or reducing the difficulty by not preparing them so meticulously. But every time, I would have a change of heart: why not use this as an opportunity for extra exercise to ward off dementia? This is the benefit of having dining buddies; without them, I would never demand so much of myself.
As the days passed, our tacit understanding grew. Everyone left spare lunch boxes with me, making it easy for me to portion out the meals as soon as they left the pan. If someone couldn’t make it on time, I would put their portioned box in the fridge for them to collect at their convenience. This not only reduced the disruption to my own mealtime caused by people arriving sporadically, but also greatly saved me time in the subsequent cleanup.
Since the dining buddies are all freelancers, their lives before joining the Little Dining Table were quite unstructured, with very little regularity. Now that they “dine along” with me, their daily schedules use the meal collection time as a reference point. Gradually, everyone’s life has begun to enter a more orderly and relatively regular track. This has not only increased their sense of control over their lives but also fostered a close connection between the body, the environment, and others, establishing a new rhythm.
This month, a new dining buddy named Xiao Gao joined us. She loves music and works part-time as a singer. After her first meal, at my request, she composed the “Song of the Little Dining Table”: “Little Dining Table, Little Dining Table, I have a Little Dining Table.” She also shared “Teacher Xia’s beautiful meals” on her Moments, joyfully announcing to the world: “There is now one more healthy kid in the Yulin area who eats their meals on time!”
III. New Autumn Nourishment Menu
New rice has already been milled at the home of my farming friend Chen Ying in Meishan. The germ is clearly visible, so I quickly ordered 10kg from her, and stocked up on a new batch of sweet potatoes, peanuts, chestnuts, and pumpkins. Every time I cook rice, I reduce the amount of grain and increase the proportion of legumes, seeds, sweet potato, or pumpkin. I also took the opportunity to buy some lotus root from a lifestyle market in Chengdu to use for stewing.
In the most recent vegetable pack I received from Hu Xuemei, there were a few paper-wrapped carrots and two onions. Truly, among all the rhythms of nature, plants are the most punctual.
During the scorching heat of summer, the fierce sunlight is something people flee from; yet root vegetables stretch their leaves as far as possible under that very sun to capture more energy, helping their “fruits” grow silently beneath the earth. As the weather gradually cools, humans and other animals consume these root vegetables to gain energy in preparation for the long winter. My thanks to all plants with edible roots.
To show my respect for the onions and carrots, I went for a morning run the day after receiving the vegetable pack. I ran straight to the vegetable shop at the head of the market, arriving before the early-rising “silver-haired regulars” to buy two blocks of “creamy-skinned aged tofu” to braise.
That aged tofu is incredibly popular; only one slab is sold per day, first come first served, until it’s gone. It looks slightly yellowish-grey on the surface and feels springy in the hand. Once braised, the aroma is overwhelming, with the rich bean fat dancing between the lips, teeth, and nostrils. Ever since I bought some last time and cooked it once, I’ve been longing for it. I’ve planned that once the autumn chill sets in, our “all-female” little dining table must have plenty of tofu.
This tofu shop is quite simply a “Yulin Gem”. Every morning at five, the owner hauls vegetables and fruit down from Longquan Mountain. By seven, the entrance is crowded with elderly uncles and aunties. By 10:30 am, the day’s produce is usually sold out and the shop closes. The owner locks up and leaves, leaving the storefront—located in a prime spot—entirely to the adjacent fruit shop to use as they please.
However, because the owner loves finding excuses to take time off, he also takes a few days’ break during festivals. Consequently, whenever I spontaneously decide to buy some vegetables or fresh fruit, the shop might be closed. While disappointed, I first find myself envying the owner’s zest for life, and then I feel secretly grateful that the basic vegetables for our little dining table are consistently supplied directly by farming friends.
During my recent trip to the lifestyle market, I specifically bought a pack of pickled fish seasoning stir-fried by Chen Erwa. I want to wait until I can get my hands on that “creamy-skinned aged tofu” again to cook a pot of tofu that “tastes like fish” for my dining companions to try. I’ll make the broth a bit more plentiful and add some celery—it will surely be a hit.
For the all-female group’s autumn nourishment, besides adjusting the staples and eating more root vegetables and braised tofu, I often make soups and thick savoury stews to aid digestion and absorption, helping us store energy for the long winter.
This is the peak season for okra and loofah. I’ve stir-fried loofah and okra with beaten eggs to make silky scrambled eggs, and I’ve also finely chopped prawns to stir into nearly-finished loofah and okra, adding a little water to simmer into a smooth prawn thick soup. Mixed with multi-grain rice, it is truly delicious.
Both okra and loofah are excellent ingredients for thick soups, as both produce a viscous, slippery juice. Loofah juice, in particular, is known in folk tradition as “beauty water” and is considered especially beneficial for women. Before loofah and okra go out of season, I’ll quickly place an order for some mutton from a shepherd friend in Ningxia. Once it arrives, I’ll mince the meat and simmer it with the vegetables into a rich soup; it should be delicious and very easy to digest.
The author of *The Philosopher in the Kitchen*—a violinist who served as mayor in Bélay during the French Revolution and began writing upon returning to his homeland after years in exile—opens with the maxim: “The universe becomes meaningful because of the existence of life, and all life needs to absorb nutrients.” In the chapter *On Digestion*, he shares a proverb: “Man lives not by eating, but by digesting. We must digest in order to survive. Whether poor or rich, shepherd or king, all are equal before this iron law.”
Digestion should be the first factor people consider when choosing what to eat or preparing food for others. Therefore, I wish everyone reading this article: good digestion, good absorption, good health, and a happy heart.
Images: Provided by the author unless otherwise noted
Editor: Xu Youyou