PANDEMIC
NOODLES
Qiwen "Arthur" Huo
Hometown: Tianjin, China
Economics Major
Arthur is a junior at Emory. His major is Economics. Born in Tianjin, China. High school was in California. He became interested in cooking at a very young age and studied cooking with his family. He is also very fond of rap music and classical music. Now his greatest passion is racing.
Reflection on Making
Beijing Fried Noodles
In the past, the food exchange between the south and the north of China was not very convenient due to the limitation of transportation. In the south, rice was the main food, while in the north, noodles were the most popular food. Noodles can be very complicated or very simple, so they have become a favorite food of northern Chinese people. As I mentioned earlier, noodles can be very complicated or very simple. Fried noodles are one of the most common at home.
Fried sauce noodles is as its name suggests. It’s noodles tossed with fried sauce to eat. The most interesting thing about fried noodles is the sauce. Depending on each person’s taste, there are various types of sauce, such as meat sauce or seafood sauce. Fried noodles are also one of the most frequently eaten dishes in my family. When I was a kid, my parents finished their busy day at work and they didn’t want to cook time-consuming, complicated meals. The fried noodles became the most profound part of my childhood memories of food.
Beijingers have made a name for this simple and ordinary dish. In Beijing, when we talk about eating mian, we mean noodles. This is different from the fan-cai system in which fan means to eat something, not just rice. But in Beijing, eating mian means eating noodles. If you go to the streets of Beijing, you can always see “Old Beijing Noodles.” However, Beijing’s fried noodles are not old.
They appeared in the late Qing Dynasty. In 1900, when the Allied Forces of the Eight Kingdoms invaded China and captured the city of Beijing; Cixi, Guangxu and other officials of the Qing Dynasty escaped from Beijing. They ran to Xi'an. During their escape there was no delicious food to eat. When they arrived in Xi'an, they ate at a nearby noodle shop. Surprisingly, the noodle shop made excellent fried noodles. After returning to Beijing, Cixi and other people could not forget this dish. The chef who made noodles at that time brought the recipe back to Beijing. The materials used began to be suitable for the taste of Beijing. From then on, fried noodles became popular in Beijing.
Nowadays, when people arrive in Beijing for the first time and are hungry, the first thing they think of is Beijing’s fried noodles. No matter what kind of restaurant in Beijing, there will be fried noodles. If you don’t eat fried noodles in Beijing, you haven't eaten Beijing’s food. Like the Forbidden City, Beijing’s fried noodles have become a symbol of Beijing’s food culture.
Over the years of living in Beijing, I have found that Beijing is really an amazing city. No matter what kind of food comes to Beijing, it becomes a taste that suits the people of Beijing. Beijing people are very particular about their food. The food can be very simple, but there must be no issues with the production process. I found many restaurants in Beijing where the line was a 2-3-hour wait, but some restaurants had no one there. Even ordinary fried noodles must have a set of rules. Beijing’s fried noodles--the sauce must be dry and the meat must have some fat. In the process of making them, the sauce must be cooked on low heat. Various toppings must also be used, such as a variety of vegetables.
Some people say it's “poor and sophisticated,” troublesome and hypocritical. It is obvious why the ordinary noodles have to have such a complicated production process. In fact, life is already very difficult. It is because of this kind of elaborate, this sense of ritual, that life is more meaningful. The Beijing people’s sense of propriety is also a kind of tolerance, just like the fried noodles, where the sauce and vegetables are mixed together in a bowl, no matter what vegetables are there.
I think life is like a bowl of fried noodles, whether the sauce is good or not, whether the vegetables are rich or not, mix it well, eat it, eat it up; there is tomorrow and hope.
"Untitled"
By: Qiwen "Arthur" Huo
This story takes place in a snowy winter.
I was a noodle, an ordinary noodle, not as long as my other brothers, but not the shortest one either. I was having a good time talking with my long brothers. I do not understand is the shortest brother, never speak, perhaps because it is in the bottom of the bowl we can not hear him speak it. To be honest our distance is really too far.
The harmony was well maintained until it was time for us to express ourselves. It was a man who had to wear a suit that I think was probably made for him by some famous Italian tailor. He picked me and my very long brothers. I was looking forward to being sent to the very inside by him. From what I heard from those who had been toothless before me, the human innermost was cool and had a wonderful touch, but he said he didn't really want to go in there again. I was puzzled as to why that was. Just as we were hanging together firmly on the chopsticks again, we discussed what the human mouth was like. At some point, I have pushed off the chopsticks and fell off. I landed on the ground vaguely and could still hear the cheers of my long line of kindred spirits. The man's shoes were really shiny, the surface was like a mirror, and I saw for the first time what I looked like. It was about 5 cm, very thin and white.
I found that my body was getting dehydrated again and again. I wanted to get out of this little store before I was completely dry. When I walked out I found the world outside was really nice. The air was moist and cool, much colder than the bowl. The snow on the ground was soft and tasted sweet. I look back at the place where I was born, a very Chinese cultural hotel, beautiful. But next to the garbage can on the right side of the restaurant I found a boy, he was very thin, wearing a thin shirt in, he bent over, his back could clearly see the shape of his bones. It looked like he was looking for something to eat, but didn't find it. I wonder why he did not eat snow? Snow is so delicious. I walked over to him, probably because I had to walk for a long time for the first time, my body began to have some stiffness.
I asked him: "Why don't you eat snow? Snow is so delicious," the boy said, "I can not eat them, they are my only friends, I talk to the flowers in the spring, they dislike my ugly appearance, refused to talk to me; I talk to the morning dew in the summer, they dislike my talk is too tedious, refused to talk to me; I in the autumn I harvest fruit Conversation, they speak too loudly, they can not hear me; only in winter, pure snowflakes accompany me to talk, I often tell them about spring, flowers in the sunshine smell; summer, rain on my face; autumn, golden leaves in the air. Every lonely winter as long as I have snowflakes with me, I don't feel lonely." "Then why don't you communicate with humans?" I asked my most puzzling question. He smiled and said to me, "Humans are a higher animal, they don't care to talk to me." With that the boy hugged the snowflake and walked away.
I also continued my journey, but it was getting harder and harder to walk. So I sat by the wall and watched the snow powers hard at work. My body became stiffer and stiffer. It turned out that the cool place was not a good place to be.