Rice isn’t rice, flour isn’t flour: Are today’s staples still healthy?
1. Staples and Supplements in the Industrial Food Production System
In terms of taste, refined flour was superior; in terms of price, it was more expensive and harder to acquire. Without your grain coupon quota, there was no point in even discussing it. Back then, using refined flour to steam mantou was seen as an extravagance; it was saved for making dumplings. My dream was to ‘eat refined flour mantou whenever I wanted’, while my mother’s was to ‘eat dumplings every day’—for in her childhood, dumplings were a treat reserved only for the Lunar New Year.
Thanks to the progress of the era and economic development, we now live such lives.

I only discovered later that this ‘high-end and sophisticated’ wheat germ powder was actually just the ‘bran’ sifted out during the milling of flour.
Later, I spent two years farming in Yilan, Taiwan, where I made many farmer friends. As a village brewmaster and a practitioner of European-style black kilns, my home was often a hub for eating and drinking. For farmers, food is paramount; whenever there was a feast, everyone followed their noses to the table. In the face of gourmet food, nothing is an excuse for absence—except for one definitive reason: ‘frying rice bran’. Rice germ oxidises and spoils very easily, so it is best milled and fried fresh. Frying rice bran is a painstaking craft, requiring slow heat that can sometimes last an entire day. The toasted rice bran tasted exactly like the wheat germ powder I had travelled so far to buy; it was effectively the same thing, as rice germ and wheat germ are very similar. When I told my farmer friends about my past purchase, they laughed at me for being a sucker. The wheat germ powder on Dihua Street was actually mainland Chinese produce, packaged and sold back to Taiwan. Although wheat is grown in Taiwan, the quantity is negligible, and there is virtually no local wheat germ industry. The most significant contribution of ‘Taiwanese wheat germ powder’ was its packaging—not just the varied designs, but the successful packaging of the *concept*, which was then delivered straight into the minds of gullible consumers.
While farming in Taiwan, I also taught food courses and caught up on some related reading, only to discover that the biggest mistake wasn’t flying to Taiwan to buy mainland goods, but rather the modern health trend of pairing ‘refined flour mantou with wheat germ powder’.
2. Today’s ‘Rice, Flour, and Oil’ are no longer what they once were

Small mills cannot produce refined flour. Refined flour is a product of industrial-scale processing in the industrial age, using superior machinery to grind flour finer while removing the ‘unpleasant’ parts invisible to the naked eye. Thanks to the progress of the era and economic development, we can now eat refined flour mantou for every meal.
As a species, humans have undergone a long evolution measured in hundreds of thousands of years. Since the gathering era, we have eaten whole grains; evolution has written the requirements for various nutrients into our genes. In the agricultural era, Europe used windmills and waterwheels, while we used human and donkey power for mills. Whether East or West, rice and flour changed very little over thousands of years.
The Industrial Revolution is merely the final minute of human evolution’s 24-hour day, and the time from the appearance of refined flour to its total dominance was but a few seconds of that final minute. The increasing refinement brought an unprecedented smoothness to the palate, but a body evolved over millions of years cannot adapt, leading to an increase in modern diseases. Thus, ‘wheat germ powder’ arrived on the wings of the information age. A grain of wheat falls into a modern processing system and undergoes two rounds of ‘value-adding’ processing: first, the bran is removed to create refined flour; then, the bran is roasted for aroma, ground for texture, and packaged with lofty claims.
Taking wheat as an example, a quick search online reveals: ‘Wheat germ powder is the essence extracted from wheat grains, a nutritional supplement high in protein and Vitamin E, and low in calories, fat, and cholesterol. It contains B-complex vitamins, Vitamin D, unsaturated fatty acids, nucleic acids, folic acid, octacosanol, and more than ten minerals including calcium, iron, zinc (23.4mg/100g), and selenium…’
Searching further into its benefits: ‘It is the best natural, nutrient-rich food for balancing human nutrition and enhancing physical constitution. Wheat germ has therapeutic effects on cardiovascular and cerebrovascular diseases, and is anti-radiation, anti-ageing, anti-tumour, detoxifying for the intestines, and prevents constipation while lowering blood sugar and blood lipids; its dietary fibre helps lower serum cholesterol and prevent diabetes. Additionally, wheat germ promotes the development of beneficial intestinal flora…’
Every packaged version of wheat germ powder emphasises ‘essential nutrients for the human body’. Why go to all this trouble to strip away the essence during milling, only to sell it back to us?


3. Rice and Flour as Ultra-Processed Foods
Increasingly concerned with food safety, modern consumers have begun to be wary of “ultra-processed foods” in their daily diets. A recent Foodthink article introduced the classification system proposed by Brazilian nutritionist Carlos Monteiro, which places rice and flour in the “unprocessed or minimally processed” category. Indeed, rice and flour in their purest form—the staples of the agricultural age—were once minimally processed foods. However, the rice and flour we buy from supermarkets today have effectively become ultra-processed foods.
Tracking the industrialised food chain, Michael Pollan published The Omnivore’s Dilemma in 2006, warning people to be vigilant about “ultra-processed foods”: “If your grandmother wouldn’t recognise it as food, or if it contains more than five ingredients and substances you cannot pronounce, it is likely an ultra-processed food.”
A web search for “legally permitted additives in flour processing” yields results such as: chemical substances used to improve the properties of flour, enhance processing performance and food quality, primarily including dough conditioners, bleaching agents, and preservatives; their use strictly follows national standards (such as GB 2760-2024). A search for “legally permitted additives in rice processing” reveals: rice additives refer to specific compounds permitted during processing, including sodium starch phosphate (a thickener), sodium diacetate (a preservative), and deacetylated chitosan (a thickener/coating agent).

In the agricultural era, grain stores consisted of paddy rice with husks or whole wheat grains. The intact seed coat was not just an outer layer; it was a suit of armour that shielded the grain from infestation and prevented oxidative spoilage. Once processed, the grain loses this innate protection and becomes susceptible to moisture and oxidation. In the age of industrial production and global sales, additives have become the standard operating procedure. Consequently, in the process of turning paddy and wheat into rice and flour, they undergo excessive extraction and excessive addition. The words remain the same as they were thousands of years ago, but rice is no longer rice, and flour is no longer flour.
In fact, even if we look at the definition of “ultra-processed foods” in Carlos Monteiro’s system—“foods with complex ingredients, subjected to deep industrial processing, often containing industrial components such as emulsifiers, flavour enhancers, and artificial aromas, with long shelf lives and convenience, but far removed from the original ingredients”—the rice and flour in modern processing and sales systems meet almost all the criteria. The only exception is the last one: they retain an appearance similar to the original ingredients.
According to China’s national standard for wheat flour implemented in 2023 (GB/T 1355-2021), wheat flour is explicitly required to be free of food additives and ingredients; those containing additives are classified as “specialised flour”. This is undoubtedly good news, but as the standard is not mandatory, I still refuse to buy commercial steamed buns or noodles, and I avoid store-bought bread and pastries. I cannot be sure if they are made with specialised flour, nor can I be certain if borax or similar substances were added during the cooking process. More importantly, I can make these things myself, and my versions differ greatly in appearance and taste from those bought in shops. Whether you choose to view rice and flour as ultra-processed foods is entirely up to you. I’ve made my choice; feel free to make yours. If some choose to believe in flour and flour products… well, God bless those with faith.
I must state: I do not hate the modern world nor do I blindly worship the past. In 1800, the average global life expectancy was 37; by 2000, it was 63.9. Progress is a blessing for all mankind; indeed, the fact that I have lived into my sixties is itself a result of that progress.
I must also state: if I were a large-scale grain processor requiring long-distance transport and prolonged storage, I would use additives too.
Four: Wanting it All
But there will always be people like me—gluttonous and ambitious—who insist on having convenience, health, *and* delicious taste. Is it possible?
Modern people are clever; we can always find a way to have convenience, health, delicious food, and happiness all at once.
As I look back, I am grateful to the era for my survival, and grateful to myself for my health. At forty, I struggled with various sub-health issues; at sixty, I am actually better. The physical problems I once had were practically the standard kit for the modern city dweller. I credit the change to spending two years farming in Taiwan in my fifties. There is no secret: eat the right things and do the right things.
In Hsinchu, Taiwan, there is a niche restaurant called “Mairuixin” that specialises in homemade sourdough bread. They grind their own flour from organic wheat and use low-temperature sourdough fermentation. It is, in essence, a modern version of the bread ovens found beside the windmills or watermills of medieval European farms. The founder had studied in Europe, and one of them and I became mentor and pupil—he taught me about bread, and I taught him about brewing wine.
Mairuixin’s primary mission is not to sell meals or bread, but to promote home baking. As long as you have a fridge, an oven, and a domestic flour mill, you can do it yourself. For those who find kneading tedious, a stand mixer will do; the only raw material needed is organic wheat.
One kilogram of flour makes one wholemeal loaf, and a domestic mill can be picked up for a hundred or so yuan on Taobao or Pinduoduo. Because the flour is not highly refined and the bran affects the texture, it requires long-term low-temperature fermentation—24 to 48 hours in the fridge. The resulting bread is slightly coarse but chewy and becomes more fragrant the more you chew it.
I have forgotten the names of the people who ran Mairuixin, but I clearly remember what they said: perhaps one day Mairuixin will be gone, but the act of making your own bread will certainly continue.
Mairuixin’s techniques are open for anyone to learn. By 2019, hundreds of people were using their methods. Only a few core members opened shops; the vast majority were office workers concerned about their health. Hsinchu is a high-tech hub in Taiwan, and the top talents there are called the “Hsinchu tech elite”. They usually bake once a weekend to last for seven days. Making one loaf takes nearly the same time as making several, and so various “bread mutual aid groups” formed—sharing bread and building human connections.
If you find “Mairuixin” too troublesome, there is an even easier way: reject foods with names you cannot pronounce, and reject “blindly buying”.
For modern city dwellers who must rely on purchasing food, those who can should use trusted platforms like North Organic, or choose carefully at supermarkets and online. Aim for simple ingredient lists where you can name the raw materials. Choose a steamed bun over a custard bun, or bread and cake. Some regional staples in China—such as corn grit rice in the Northeast, millet rice in the Northwest, or the large pancakes from my hometown in Shandong—are closer to the original grain and come highly recommended.

I have always believed that “additive-free” is more important than “organic”. Pollan reminds us to prioritise whole foods with recognisable names—such as peanuts, edamame, corn, sweet potatoes, pumpkin, and potatoes themselves. I highly recommend buying a variety of miscellaneous grains and beans to cook porridge with brown rice; you can pre-make large batches, freeze them in the fridge, and take them out as needed. I previously wrote for Foodthink, “If You Can’t Cook a Bowl of Bean Soup, How Can You Claim a Title of Nobility?”. This way of eating is the “bean rice” heavily promoted by fitness bloggers; there are many benefits to using this as a substitute for refined-flour buns, noodles, or white rice, which I invite you to research for yourselves. An unexpected reward from this article: a friend’s wife suffered from severe morning sickness in early pregnancy, and bean porridge helped her get through her hardest days.

*Editor’s note: Grandma Kouzi’s next piece will be about oils.

