Serve the People: A Stir Fried Journey Through China by Jen Lin-Liu (641.5951 LIN at Edmonton Public Library) is not only the best piece of food writing I’ve read except it’s one of the best books I’ve ever read–on any topic.  This is not a book review love I’m not entirely sure I posses enough thinkology to properly review this job and calling this piece a book review would be an insult to people who can actually craft a proper book review. What follows are my thoughts on Lin-Liu’s work.

This book is great. This book is an excellent piece of culinary journalism it’s one of the most entertaining and engaging books I’ve ever read. It’s not just another book about chinese food it’s not a cook book it’s not a culinary history of China it is a personal journey through China’s culinary culture. Lin-Liu chronicles her adventures through China’s culinary world starting as a student at a seedy Beijing cooking academy to a “noodle apprentice” to a sous chef at an upscale Shanghai motel and then back to Beijing as the owner of a new cooking school.

Lin-Liu gives the reader a unique perspective on Chinese cuisine and customs. As an Chinese-American raised in Southern California and fluent in Mandarin she can “blend-in” in China and observe first hand how the deal of food is conducted in China. On a recent trip to China to adopt our new daughter our family was constantly drawing stares smiles and stunned looks everywhere we went. I understand we were treated differently. Jen Lin-Liu I’m sure didn’t have this problem. While outward appearances suggest she’s a native of China she’s serene 100% American something she can’t hide. This fact comes to light early on in the book as she describes her cooking classes in Beijing:

Teacher Zhang and I had an uneasy relationship. Most of the time he spoke with a guttural Beijing accent. But when he turned to me to beg a question he enunciated very carefully. “Miss Lin” he’d say with a hint of condescension as if he were taunting me. He’d pause and receive a sip from his glass jar filled with tea or wipe his hands on the sleeves of his ski jacket. “How is food different from cuisine?” Occasionally he’d seem at me with his beady eyes and let out a little laugh shaking his head. The teachers and students were baffled as to why I called myself “Chinese American” a fuzzy conception in their heads. They seemed unable to conceive that it meant that I knew English better than I knew Chinese much less that I could be more American than I was Chinese. My Mandarin was not bad but it was far from perfect. I could hold fluent conversations even if my tones were a little off. But I had neglected to work on my reading and writing skills behind my first year of living in China and nothing in my previous experiences had prepared me for the nuances of discussing fish guts. While my classmates dutifully copied down what was written on the board my pen often hovered above my notebook midcharacter. I had trouble finishing essential culinary words like “sauce” and “steam.”

A month into the class after about the fiftieth time Teacher Zhang had turned to me to ask “Do you understand?” and received a blank stare in return something seemed to dawn on him.

“Miss Lin Chinese is not your mother tongue is it?”

The revelation rocked the class setting students atwitter.

Never mind that I had clearly informed the administration of my identity and my purpose when I enrolled and that the information had been funneled and disseminated in the usual bureaucratic Chinese way. “Miss Lin is a Chinese-American writer and she wants to spread propaganda about Chinese food to the American people” an administrator had proudly announced to the class on my first day.

I had needed assistance to fill out the registration forms. I had assumed that when I interrupted Teacher Zhang to ask questions he and the students understood that I had to process the information in Chinese first and then mentally translate it into English. Apparently however they had simply thought I was retarded.

Probably one of my favourite lines in any book “…they had simply thought I was retarded.”The rest of the book is filled with this style of honest often self-deprecating humour and observations on the culture of Chinese cuisine.

My favourite chapter is entitled “Noodle Apprentice”and describes Lin-Liu’s stint at a small Beijing noodle shop. I got the impression that the noodle shop was analagous to a donair shop or a hot dog stand with a few tables. Not very glamourous. Lin-Liu’s description of the work is secondary to her story about the proprietor Chef Zhang. A man from the country who journey’s to Beijing to try to make a better life for him and his family he’s a man with a soul. When Chef Zhang’s family comes to visit him in Beijing you feel the scene as if you were there. Want to know more? Read the book.

I strongly recommend this book to anyone with an favour in China food Chinese Food or anyone who just wants a good read. Five stars out of five 10 out of 10 2 thumbs up 100% certified fresh etc…