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9qi 9JD smo//a/ ivq/^ -isnSny
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qDlid pdipiiosun ud paAzaaaj a/\4

3 N I S i n 3
33V

30

>I3HiO]A[
ilL Li lL

From: S Finch <msfinch@leipzigger.de>

Date: May 19, 2012 8:50:09 AM CEST

tery exactly. He started referring to my score as "our

china." (His dig had been a bust, and I think he was

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

angling to cash in on a sale of my pottery.)

RE: A pitch

After a couple weeks, the LA woman. Amy Rowat,

wrote us back: yes, the pottery was Ming erano

Peter

younger than 1640. But the girl who ran the tests for
Professor Rowat had latched onto a far more interest

Thanks for your interest. 1 think this will turn out

fantastically! I'm very excited to finally chase this ghost
story down.
Chris, to catch you up, here's what I sent Peter:

ing discoveryshe had found traces of lysine, glutamate, and glutenin in the porous glaze on the pottery.
These were chemical markers of a pretty distinct
combination: tomatoes, possibly soy sauce, and prob
ably wheat noodles. It took me a moment to grasp her

I just received confirmation of a grant to travel from

implication. The markers were raising a whole new

Germany to Dali in Yunnan Province early next year

to do some fieldwork for my postdoctoral studies in

question: Were Yunnanese people cooking noodles with

what I like to call "forgotten Chinese history."

Unfortunately, I did end up selling the pottery

before I left Indiaor Claude did, but I took my part

The seed of this idea was planted when 1 was

tomatoes before Italians?

traveling the Silk Road, completing my master's. I

of the cash, so I feel complicit. We may still he able

spent six months in northwestern India working for

a French archaeologist, Claude R. Rone. I was late to

to retrieve some fragments from Professor Rowat to

the scene, and most of his work was already done,

idea that they were evidence of an undocumented

so I spent a little time as liaison to some Chinese

laborers (I speak Cantonese and Mandarin). The rest

foodway from the New World through southern

China. I put it on the backburner and returned to

of the time, I was poking around in local markets and

school to finish my degree.

roadside tent sales and generally whiling away the

days before I could get out of the heat and back to
Leipzig. (I was at the University for a while; now I'm
at the Leipzig Institute of Education.) One afternoon

photograph for the story. She seemed open to the

In my free time, I came up with a rough timeline:

the tomato arrived in Europe from the New World in

the 16th century, and was growing in Italy by the end
of it or certainly by the I7th. It wasn't until the late

I came across a trader with a cache of handsome

ISth century1773, by most accountsthat tomato

hone china that I expertly recognized as quite old. It

was affordable to me even on the pittance I was earn

sauce first appears in Italian cookbooks. But fol

lowing the demise of the Silk Road, Europeans were

ing at the time, so I bought what he hadan oddly

seeking a way to maintain trade with China. So as

shaped tureen and some small bowlsand brought

them hack to camp.

early as the I6th Centuryhalf a century or so after

Claude went crazy for the stuff: he said it was

toesPortuguese explorers and Italian missionaries

like Matteo Ricci had settled in China. My belief is

late-Ming material, and that the designs made him

think it was from what's now the city of Dali, and he

Columbus returned from the New World with toma

that the Chinese were exposed to New World ingre

insisted I direct him to the man I'd bought it from.

dients as early as anybody in Europe, created dishes

I tried in earnest, but we couldn't track down the

with them, and that those dishesdishes we've

merchant again. Later, when I told him that one of

come to know as distinctly Europeantraveled back

the bowls had broken on the way home, he was apo

to Europe by the same routes the ingredients had

plectichow could I have been so careless, etc.but

taken to China. In short, spaghetti with tomato sauce

then he seized on the shards and said he'd send one

is Chinese. (Isn't everything?)

to a research scientist he has some ambiguous con

nection to at UCLA who'd be able to date the pot

128 I Lucky Peach

r s E ^ r ^ s i n = i F = n r ^ E

My Italian boyfriend, Elario, bemusedly indulged my

I was happy enough just to escape the crippling

claims about the Chinese provenance of certain Italian

awkwardness of the villa for a few hours. The mind-

dishes. Every time I brought it up, he'd intimate to me

boggling dinner was a welcome bonus. Nonna, how

that the superior quality of his grandmother's tomato

ever, still managed to impose her presence on the

evening, albeit in quite an unexpected and pleasant

sauce would dispel any question as to whether the

stuff is intrinsically and historically Italian. I hadn't

tasted good enough red sauce, was the problem.
So this spring I was near Modena, visiting
Elario's family. Varying iterations and generations

way. Massimo, it turned out, in addition to being one

of the great pioneers of modern cuisine, is also the

of his family had lived and cooked in that villa for

the better part of two centuries. His grandmother

every Modenese grandmother within 50 km, Elario's

nonna included. After dinner we ended up getting a

was now the lone full-time resident, but a cast of

tour of the place and meeting the chef. He was hand

daughters, sons, in-laws, grandchildren, and three

some and charming and asked us questions. I felt at

great-grandchildren kept the household perpetually

teeming. (There were six other people there during

ease, and despite Elario's palpable discomfort and

telltale feet-shuffling, I steered the conversation in
the direction of my Chinese-origin theory.
He listened intently as I once again brashly

our visit, which qualified as "deserted.")

Unaffected by the crippling heat, Nonnathat's

what her family calls heralways had at least three

world's foremost champion of the Italian matriarch.

He's rolled tortellini, it seems, at the feet of nearly

charged at the proud heart of Italian cooking. I

pots on the stove. Her food was fantastic, but it

walked him through the timeline, talked about

didn't put me off my hypothesis. We were in the

Claude in India and the broken vase, and mentioned

kitchen the morning after our arrival when I had

my pending trip to Dali. Not until I reached the end

of my tale, breathless, did I realize how voluble the

Elario help me ask her some questions: Who taught

her to cook? How long had she been cooking? Does she
her terse replies as "My mother-in-law, when I

wine pairings had made me, and how horribly silent

the hallway we were speaking in had grown.
"I guess I've been cooking Chinese food all along,"

became married; a very long time; no."

Massimo said with a grin. We laughed at this, but

ever cook anything that isn't Italian? Elario translated

Then I put my theory to her, thinking that Elario

his smile quickly faded. He looked at Elario and said

had briefed her ahead of time. To say she bristled at

something quickly in Modenese (My guess: "Is this

the idea that tomato cookery and tomato sauce in

nutjob for real?"), to which Elario nodded. Elario then

particular had come from China would be an under

statement; she did not speak to me for the remainder

translated as Massimo continued.

of the weekend, and regarded me with such disdain

name of Yun Ye Su. He was from Dali and was, accord

that I'd have recanted and begged for forgiveness had

ing to Massimo, one of the best cooks he'd ever seen,

I thought it would have made an ounce of difference.

met, or stood near. In fact, one of the dishes we'd eaten

A couple days later, Elario was feeling guilty for

how his mean old grandmother was treating me,

that night was apparently a variation on something

that Yun had made for Massimo late one evening.

and in some ways him (whenever I left the room, I

"He brought it to me like a gift," Massimo said. "He'd

heard him objecting to nonna while she called me

cooked it alone. It was masterful." Yun had also made

something awful-sounding in a dusty old Modenese

dialect). So the last night we were in town he took
me out for the only truly expensive and out-of-this-

claims about the Chinese provenance of classic Italian

world dinner we've ever eaten together, at Osteria

even gotten over their fear of nightshades.

Francescana, where the chef Massimo Bottura cooks.

The chef had employed a stagiaire years ago by the

dishes, calmly insisting that tomato sauce had been

in his family's repertory since long before Italians had
In spite of these claims (or maybe because of

(Googling leads me to believe he and Chang know

them). Chef Massimo tried for two months to hire

each other.)

Yun, offered him a full-salaried position, everything.

LuckyPeach I 129

=]L=illE=JEir=]L=illi=]S1

But the kid was hellbent on working elsewhere and

exploring the gastronomic scene in Europe. The chef
lost touch with Yun Ye Su, but knew he'd turned up

Date: July 2, 2012 8:50:09 AM CEST

at El Bulli at some point, because Ferran Adria had

Subject: Made it to Copenhagen

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

shared a nearly identical tale with hima mysteri

ous Chinese stage with brilliant potential who came

Hi guys.

and went like the seasons.

I pressed Bottura for more answers, but he had to

return the kitchen. He told me that he'd introduce

FYI, I emailed Amy Rowat in LA to see if she still has

the pottery fragments.

me to Ferran if I could make it to Copenhagen for

I get the feeling that Chef Bottura thinks I'm a

MAD Food Camp in July. I thanked him profusely,

crazy celebrity-chef stalker, as he hadn't answered

and we headed out. I

any of my emails until we

spent the rest of my

time in Italy planning

got to CPH. Anyway, he

my trip to CPH.
Back in Leipzig,

again here in Copenha

agreed to meet with me

gen and introduce me to
Adria, very early, before

I went through the

stacks, looking for any
documentation that

would have supported

what Chef Massimo
t o l d m e a b o u t Y u n Ye

Su. Nothing. I take

that to mean that this

is a genuine chance to
discover something.

GENTLEMEN, THERE'S
A

gen in a couple weeks.

(Will I see either of you

BEST

KITCHENS

much English, so I'd been

COOK

IN THE WORLD, AND I

THINK

HE

SUPPORT

TO

CAN

LEND

TO TA L LY

U N C O N S I D E R E D
REWRITE
FOOD

So I'm off to Copenha

THROUGH

presentations.
Adria doesn't speak

CHINESE

PA S S I N G
THE

THE

OF

THE

T R AV E L E D
NEW
THE

he and Ferran went to the

WAY
FROM

WORLD
OLD.

TO

revving up my French to
ask him questions. I picked
up from his body language
that he was surprised not
only that Chef Massimo
had arranged our meeting,
but particularly that we
were talking about Yun Ye
Su. He shared a few hurried

there?) Massimo told me

Spanish-Italian-ish words

it was pretty informal,

with Massimo while I was

that he could introduce

ordering coffee. Massimo

me around, and that he

patted him on the shoulder.

wouldn't be surprised if

Then, out of nowhere,

Y u n Ye S u h a d w o r k e d f o r s o m e o f t h e o t h e r c h e f s w h o

Ferran blurted out something about how Yun Ye Su's

will be in attendance.

restaurant is one of the most amazing places to eat in

Gentlemen, there's a Chinese cook passing through

the best kitchens in the world, and I think he can lend

support to a totally unconsidered rewrite of the way

food traveled from the New World to the Old. I'm going

the world and he can't imagine what I did to find out

about it.

I played it as cool as possible, but, truly, I was losing

it. A restaurant? I acted like I knew what he was talking

t o fi n d h i m .

about, not losing a second, and started in with, "Yes, I

tried for months to get a reservation at the restaurant.

Frost!

I'd heard it was nearly impossible, but I..."

Syd.

Adria went on lockdown the second he realized his

130 1 Lucky Peach

E i B i r ^ E ^ n = i F = n r ^ B

mistake. I was no insider, and worse, I was a liar. He said

he had to go and prepare for a demo later in the day and

you will from this, but it was intimated that a certain

David Chang's signature Brussels sprouts should have a

maybe we could talk again after MAD was over.

Massimo, sweet angel that he is, stepped in to save
me again. "I told her that Yun was an incredible cook, a

cosigner.) But Yun had never taken a paying job from

or so much as a photo withany of them. He professed

pure creative genius, and that he had wild ideas ahout

Chinese food and history," he said.

was the most brilliant cook anyone had ever seen.

Adria concurred. "A fantastic talent, a brilliant

his lowliness and his desire to work and learn, but he

Redzepi chimed in that Yun Ye Su had worked for

him in the early days at Noma, back before his name

worker. I wish he would have stayed longer. He is the

had become "synonymous with foraging," before he had

future of cooking." And then he begged off and the two

really even begun scampering around the forest him

of them left and I felt like an idiot.

s e l f . Yu n m a d e R e n e a f e w m e a l s w h e n t h e t w o o f t h e m

Thankfully I got a text from Massimo this afternoon

(after I'd had a few self-pitying glasses of wine thinking

were working late, closing the kitchen. He said that

I'd blown my chance):

and mosses and green strawberries from the forests

Yun had gone out on his day off and gathered lichens
and beaches around Copenhagen, and had cooked the

"Got into trouble with the guys for talking Yun.

most beguiling version of "Chinese" food he had ever

We r e o k n o w. C o m e t o F i s k e b a r a t 11 . s e e w h a t e l s e

tasted, all with ingredients from the wild.

I was curious if it might just be that the Europe

you can get."

ans were unfamiliar with classic Yunnanese cooking.

I'll check in with you guys again tomorrow after this

I n a m e d a f e w o f t h e e m b l e m a t i c d i s h e s o f Yu n n a n

mystery meeting. I'm nervous as hell.

provinceCrossing the bridge noodles

Steampot chicken Milk fans four ways

Hlfl^)and asked if those were the dishes they'd tried.

From: S Finch < msfinch@leipzigger.de >

Chinese food than I assumed) shook his head. Yun Ye

Date: July 4, 2012 6:12:22 AM CEST

Su doesn't just cook "Chinese" or "Yunananese" food, he

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

said. Then he and Redzepi took turns filling in the gaps

RE: Made it to Copenhagen

of a pretty consistent, alheit barebones, biography:

Ferran (who was far more familiar with regional

Yun is the descendent of some sort of exceptional

Hey guys
I'm taking off for the airport in an hour. Anyway, last

family. Not royalty, exactly; the family are either the

night at the harwow.

Ferran was sitting at a big table with just one other

culinary knowledge and secrets. (Adria, who seemed

a little bit tired all night, was really animated talk

patron, who turned out to be none other than Rene

ing about this.) Yun's childhood was spent in culinary

Redzepi. My prompt 11 p.m. arrival meant I was there

early. Ferran motioned me over and introduced me as

apprenticeshipRene chipped in that Ye Su had told

him that he had learned to tell edible plants from

"Sydney who doesn't speak Spanish."

Ferran spoke at length. Redzepi translated for me.

dangerous ones before he learned to speak. When he

showed up in these European kitchens sometime in his

Here's the gist:

late teens or early twentiesno one knew his exact

Yun Ye Su is a secret. Nohody talks ahout him. This

is partly in accordance with his wishes, partly out

of ignorance. He's worked for many of the top chefs
around the world. "Our friends" was how Ferran referred

to them. (I get the sense that not a few of "our friends"

could credit a little inspiration to YYS. Take what

originators or preservationists of a great trove of

age; he'd always worked without papers on a handshake

agreementhe was lightyears ahead of his peers. Of

the chefs, too, probably.
A little crowd had gathered at our table at this
point. Seeing Adria and Redzepi freely discussing
YYS, they all seemed eager to add their own two cents.

Lucky Peach I 131

Massimo was there, praising the kid's skills with

From: S Finch <msiinch@Ieipzigger.de>

pasta ("He hends dough to his will.") Wylie Dufresne,

the New York chef, joined us, too, and said, "He has a

Date: August 1, 2012 11:52:01 PM CST

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

natural intuition for the scientific." I guess Yun's been

Subject: China, at last

Stateside, too.

As the night rolled on, everybody was drinking with

enthusiasm. Massimo told me (maybe drunkenly) that,

H e l l o f r o m Yu n n a n !

I've landed in Kunming for a quick stopover before

yes, he believed tomato sauce had come from China.

He said that at one point Yun had even convinced him

heading out for Dali. Kunming is not my favorite city

on Earth. It's not terrible, but you can tell it used to be

that there was a Chinese antecedent to balsamic vin

more beautiful. New commerce has grown around the

egar. (This seemed almost heretical coming from a man

whose blood, you'd think, runs black with balsamic.)

more ancient parts of the city like hair around a scar.

The tales of Yun's kitchen prowess were all fine and

empty, except for a few businessmen whose businesses

good, and will perhaps resonate with your cook read

ers, but here was something that caught my attention.
Balsamic vinegar as a Chinese export? I tried to pin

aren't worth the effort to describe here. (East Asian

Anyway, I'm in a queer little travelers' hotel, mostly

distributor of nonessential component of commercial

Massimo down on an explanation, hut he escaped into

equipment produced by Midwestern conglomerate, etc.)

The curtains are a color of orange that I thought went

the crowd (which at that point included your friend

out of style with 1960s Brutalist architecture; the sheets

Mr. Chang).

are a particularly unhreathable blend of polyester.

As exciting as this evening was, it all just seems to

reafhrm the necessity that I find Yun if I'm to get any
real answers.

On that note, one other thing Ferran told me was

Needless to say, I'll be glad to make it to Dali and

start this search in earnest.

From an envelope addressed to Yun that Rene saved,

I l e a r n e d t h a t t h e C h i n e s e c h a r a c t e r s f o r Yu n ' s n a m e a r e

not what I had expected, as this translates to

t h a t Yu n h a d r e t u r n e d t o C h i n a . B u t w h e n I a s k e d h i m

about the restaurant, he told me "It's not there. It's not

"Movement Jesus." Something lost in the translation,

a restaurant."

I'm sure, hut at least it's a place to start.

Yours dutifully,

From: S Finch <msfinch@leipzigger.de >

Syd

Date: July 4, 2012 6:33:03 AM CEST

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying
Subject: One other thing
Nearly forgot this juicy little exchange from last night.
I was looking for my jacket to leave the bar when a well-

From: S Finch < msfinch@leipzigger.de >

Date: August 3, 2012 1:33:41 PM CST
To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying
RE: China, at last

to-do-looking gentleman with an ascot asked me in a

Queens accent, "Did you ever hear the story of how he

Reached Dali. They make cheese here! It is truly a lot like

got his scar?" And started laughing.

southern Italian mozzarellafresh cheese, pulled curd,

"He has a scar?"

the whole deal. There's a British food writer. Fuchsia

The man drew his finger like a knife directly across

Dunlop, who's covered it on her blog, here http://Vww.

the bridge of his nose.

"How did he get it?"
He laughed. "You're going to China, right? Ask him!"

fuchsiadunlop.com/tag/cheese/. I've also seen tomatoes,

basil, mint, and all kinds of stuff that I think could shut
Elario's grandmother up. Hard to imagine the Chinese
wouldn't have thought to combine cheese with basil and

Syd

tomatoes. Not exactly brain surgery.

132 1 Lucky Peach

[ S E i r s L = i i i i i F = n f s

Some of the older Chinese ladies, who come in from

the surrounding mountainsides to sell leeks and chry

From: S Finch < msfinch@leipzigger.de >

santhemum greens and whathaveyou, are pretty keen

Date: August 10, 2012 3:14:08 AM CST

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

to chat and drink tea with a friendly foreigner who's

Subject: Apologies

interested in their story. From talking to them about

the pottery, and their own food traditions, I'm cau
tiously optimistic about our theory regarding tomatoes
and other New World vegetables arriving in this area of
the country far earlier than people assume. It certainly

Apologies for the radio silence. 1 am embarrassed that

I've got nothing to report. Still no leads on the elusive
Mr. Yun. I've got three weeks here for this (and a few

seems like these ladies know their way with a tomato,

other odds and ends I'm looking into for the school), but
I'm starting to worry that this may be a fool's errand.

at least. One of the women said she had some kind of

In my more sullen moments, 1 consider that this

agricultural family history and she'd bring something

might all be a hoax, a practical joke played on the

for me to look at later in the week.

unsuspecting academic trying to get in with the coolchef clique. But then I remember that there are very real

More

pieces of pottery at the beginning of this chase.

soon.

Syd

1 also remember that two editors of a new food

magazine wouldn't send a writer halfway across the

world for shits and giggles.:)
From: S Finch <mshnch@leipzigger.de>

Date: August 5, 2012 1:23:44 AM GST

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

You guys are still believers, right?

Syd

RE: China, at last

H i -

From: S Finch <msfinch@leipzigger.de >

Got ahold of the text the farm lady mentioned. Hard to

Date: August 13, 2012 3:15:28 PM CST

decipher, older than dirt, but it seems to be a record of

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

crops grown in the surrounding area. No idea how old it

is, or if it'll support my idea, but 1 did make out what 1

Subject: Something

think said HIT. It'll take real analysis to see if this is rel

I'm sorry (again) for the delay. It's been an altogether

evant to us.

useless search until today. Resorted to stopping in at

No sign of Yun Ye Su or his restaurant, unfortu

the fancier hotels for restaurant recommendations. But

nately. He's still the lynchpin, and while the agricultural

evidence has been encouraging, his absence is disheart

every restaurant I've been sent to has ended up being a

ening. Don't quite know where to start looking.

business-traveler set.

garish, overpriced, and overlit cavern that caters to the

A friendly bellhop kid at one of the hotels
approached me this morning after he overheard the

From: S Finch <msfinch@leipzigger.de >

To : P e t e r M e e h a n

concierge giving me the same useless leads I'd gotten

everywhere else. 1 think the bellhop was eager to try
his English on me, which gave out after half a minute,

RE: China, at last

but once we were speaking in Mandarin, he was very

Date: August 5, 2012 1:24:04 AM CST

helpful. He told me that real Yunnanese cooking isn't

Sorry, Peter, that's 2/3rds of the phrase meaning
tomato. Nothing conclusive, but curious to find on
something so old.

done in restaurants. Serious diners (his uncle is one,

apparently) eat at "gourmet clubs" that are private, or

invitation only. He'd never been to one himself, as
he's a vegetarian, but he told me that he'd seen his

Lucky Peach I 133

= ] L = | | | n s i P = i r = n p = i r = n

father and his uncle loudly stumbling back into the

From: S Finch <msfinch@leipzigger.de >

house just before sunrise on numerous occasions,

both with their pants opened and stains of all manner

Date: August 15, 2012 2:30:09 AM CST

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

(i.e.. not just food) on their shirts. When their

Subject: Menu from tonight

respective wives asked where they'd been, they only

ever replied, "Eating."

H i -

He said it sounded like I was looking for was one of

Much more later, but I've just had the most incredible

those places. But that they're closed offmoney can't

meal of my life. A journey through history and phi

open the door (as it almost always does everywhere

else in China). It's not likely an outsider would ever be

losophy. Recapped here before 1 forget anything. Yun

welcome.

This was the closest I'd been to a "lead." So I poured

my heart out to the bellhop in the middle of the hotel
lobby. I told him about the pottery, and Yun Ye Su, and
about the fancy chefs, and my theory, and how desper
ate I am to know the truth.

I don't know how much of it got through. Modern

Chinese can be impervious to sentiment. He told me
he'd talk to his uncle, and that I should come back in

two days.
Feels like a longshot, but maybe at least I'll get to go
to one of the supper clubs.

preferred that I didn't take pictures during our time

together.
First: Not a restaurant at all. (There was a restaurant

downstairs, and Yun has some association with it1

think as owner/overlord type.) His place, my godit
was kind of like a painter's studio, but for food. The
building was perfectly placed in the city, with an unob
structed view of the mountains. A view you couldn't
possibly predict from street level. The room was messyish. There was a pottery wheel in an alcove around the
corner, and some wet-clay footprints here and there.
Yun throws all his own plates and bowls and teacups
and the like. Exquisite.
Then there's this: on the huge slab dining table at the

Syd

center of his studio he had a vase full of palm frondsa

vase in EXACTLY the style of the one I bought in India.
When I spotted it, it was like the air was sucked from

From: S Finch < msfinch@leipzigger.de >

the room, like my hearing shut down. All 1 could see

Date: August 14, 2012 12:40:12 PM CST

was that vase. He told me, "I put it out this morning

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

before I came to find you. I thought you might like it."

(No subject)

He told me all would be explained later, after we'd eaten.

Who the hell is this guy?

He's real.

He found me. At the market this morning.

Meal happened in two parts: "Family Recipes" and

"Personal Inventions."

I looked up and there he was: a bald guy, maybe in his

thirties, huge scar right across his face.
Said he'd heard 1 was asking about him. Asked who

Part one, course one: he slid open a wall panel to

sent me. Seemed suspicious but reacted warmly to

two monster crabs at the bottom of it, a couple lob

chefs' names. Owe Massimo a fruit basket.

1 A M G O I N G T O D I N N E R AT H I S H O M E . N o i d e a

sters, and a few varieties of fish I couldn't identify.

Yun stuck his hand in and a prawn swam to the top,

what to expect. Told him I had to stop here to drop my

almost as if it wanted to be fetched out. (I'm calling

bag. He's waiting out front. (I keep looking out the win

it a "prawn" but it might have been a langoustineit

dow to make sure he's still there.)

was a GIANT shrimp with a purple tinge to the color

reveal a marvelous fish tank, deep and tall. There were

of its shell.) The prawn sat languidly in Yun's hand as

Syd

he closed the tank and laid it on the table a couple feet

from me. It just sat, docile.

134 I Lucky Peach

r s B i r B L = i i i i = j B i r ^ E

I looked down at my chopsticks, I was looking at fideos. I

Meanwhile, Yun took a towel off a barrel in the corner

of the room and stuck a long pipette in. He came over

recognized them from my student days in Madrid.

Fourth coursefour little packages of brown paper,

and dispensed the the contents into a small dish in

front of me. It looked like black vinegar. I asked after its

elaborately foldedI blurted out "papillotes.""That's

what the French call them, isn't it?" he said, in perfect

provenance, mentioning Chinkiang. He told me, "This is

a product my family created. It is from a method that is

English. A very generous smile on his face. Inside the

older than your country. We call it all-vinegar."

Then, in one motion, he took the head and shell off

packets: one with mushrooms-six tiny, beautiful varie

ties. Another, exquisite fillets of the smallest fish. Plus,

of the shrimp, and left them on the table, wiggling. He

the envelopes were freaking edible! Each incredibly aro

handed me the still-a-little-alive shrimpit was frigid

matic, melted in my mouth.

and sweet and pristine

Other highlights:
- "Orange-roast duck

and I dipped it in the vin

egar. The combination was
electrifying. The vinegar,

with sumac" - It was a

at first, tasted like black

perfectly cooked duck,

with skin on the very

vinegar, with and an almost

darkest side of the brown

stinky fermented flavor.

But as I sat, the flavors

IN

changed: vanilla overtones

that evoked sherry, then

INFORMED OPINION,

and succulent and per

T H AT

fumed with a citrusy fla

a burst of caramelizedb u t - n o t - s w e e t fl a v o r t h a t
reminded me of balsamic

vinegar. But not.

Then it came. He said

something to the effect

of "Let's dispense with

MY

FA I R LY

WELL-

D O W N S TA I R S

R E S TA U R A N T ( O R
W H AT E V E R

YOU

WANT

TO CALL IT) MUST BE

THE

FINEST

WORLD.
YOUR

IN

BAR

NONE.

READERS

THANK

ME

THE

CAN

L AT E R .

a n d fl e s h t h a t w a s t e n d e r

vor. The orange sauce was

pale orange, translucent,
and beyond compare.
- A chicken cooked,

then "juiced" through some

sort of vice, served on rice.
- Potatoes cooked in

formalities." He produced

a claypot with fermented

a serving dish with a lid,

broadbeans and a very

which he lifted to reveal

what looked like spaghetti

creamy sauce that screamed

bechamel but I guess might

in tomato sauce. I really

have been tofu?

can't wait for/hope you get

a chance to eat this food.

I got it out of him that there was a bit of pork and some

Enough food to kill me.

And this was just the first set of dishes. No idea how

kind of fermented fava bean underpinning to the sauce,

he cooked it all by himself, plus I think I saw him

but really it was just an ideal bowl of spaghetti in sim

darting downstairs with platters, possibly for patrons

at the "restaurant"? Speaking of which, in my fairly

plicity and richness, in its tomato-ness, in every aspect.

When he brought the third dish, he told me, "This is
dry noodles cooked with a five-spice beef broth, chilies,
and ginger." The noodles were still the tiniest bit crisp,
still had some structure to them, the sauce was unctuous

well-informed opinion, that downstairs restaurant (or

whatever you want to call it) must be the finest in the
w o r l d . B a r n o n e . Yo u r r e a d e r s c a n t h a n k m e l a t e r.

A lull. I thanked him for the meal, at that point, but

and rich and it sparkled with ginger and star anise. This

it turned out I was terribly mistaken. He told me those

was a "family recipe," he told me, something passed down

were only some of the dishes that his family had cre

for generationstake from that what you will, but when

ated"a part of his history," he told me, and he thought

Lucky Peach [ 135

^L=iiiiiEin=iF=nF=ir=n

that I should know them before he cooked his own food

exhaustion. If anything, I was hyperaware. But I lost any

for me.

interest in my paper and penI just wanted to fully

I expressed my shock, and my fear that I couldn't eat

another bite. He went to the kitchen and brought back

experience his food.

Another thing: His kitchen transforms. It started as a

a small black teapot and a cup. He told me it was a very

well-furnished but traditional Chinese kitchen. But then

special tea that would restore my appetite. (Not mari

juana, in case you're wondering.) I sipped. My body felt

he started pressing panels and tugging at handles. Every

time I looked, I swear it was like the Batmobilethings

not only hunger, but health. I felt rejuvenated, height

were just changing. Weathered built-ins reversed to

ened. Like, floating.

reveal scientific equipment. It was in constant flux. By

I was ecstatic, truly. And ready to eat again.

the time the meal was over it was more or less back to

The second half of the meal was more like the food at

what it had been when I'd arrived.

Massimo's, or (from what

I've read) Noma. The open

ing salvo was as good as

From: S Finch

any food I'd ever encoun

< msfinch@leipzigger.de >

tered. Each dish, I real

Date: August 15, 2012

ize now, was either a play

5:30:09 AM CST

on (orif his claims pan

To: Peter Meehan;

outthe progenitor of) a

Chris Ying

"European" classic.

Subject: More from tonight

(Yun noted that he

created all of these dishes,

and mentioned chefs he'd

taught them to.)

Rice-paper packages
filled with ginger-and-

THE
PUT
AND

CHINESE
TO M ATO E S
PA S TA

T O G E T H E R
THERE'S

NO

QUESTION.

scallion sauce

Sorry, had to sleep a bit.

I'm wondering about
the name "Movement

Jesus." It does seem like

Yun can just be places
that he wasn't the second

Miniature version of

before.

claypot potatoes with tofu

After dinner we had our

bearnaise (the whole thing,

conversation.

Like I said, half the meal

including the pot, is edible)

Rice-paper ravioli w/
chicken oysters in coconut

tonight were dishes from

YYS's family. But "his fam

milk, hearts of palm, and

chicken broth with a ginger

ily" doesn't really belong to

him. He belongs to them.

saffron emulsion

A tiny, playful wrap(?), or taco, I guess, for lack of a

better word. The crisp exterior, he said, was derived/

He was an adopted orphan. Not adopted as a child,

exactly, more as a disciple or maybe a servant. He was
raised to serve a family that controls a triangle of moun

inspired by these really popular Chinese rice crackers.

The filling was crazyminced goose, with an other

tains whose inner faces have not been visited by anyone

worldly texture.

for millennia. He was an apprentice in the kitchen, which

other than that family, its servants, and very few guests

A rose made of jellied something, flavored like lychees

was considered a much lowlier appointment than the

I lost track. There was pasta, meat, rice, some kind of

whole songbird, desserts. Pure, so perfect, so exquisite. I

librarysome kind of "fortress" of the world's accumu

lated culinary knowledge, dating back an unbelievable

felt a blanket of fog passing over my eyes, but it wasn't

amount of time.

136 I Lucky Peach

r F = i F = n r s c ^ r s E ^ n s [ =

He saw the cutlery of the Pharaohs. (One day one of

the other boys taunted him that it was that hoy's privi
lege to look after treasures, and Yun's responsibility to

onds hereas Yun was clapping and cheering him on, the

pondkeeper appeared behind the boy and slit his throat.

The man helped the fish back into the pond, stroking

wash the dishes the animals ate from.) He saw a room of

its cheeks and whispering to it. And then he called Yun

Mayan artifacts that had arrived in China centuries before

over to him, beckoning with one finger.

Columbus's arrival in the New World.

"That is how I got this," Yun said, pointing to the scar

(I figure the bellhopwho I also suspect was not just

a bellhoprelayed my story to Yun, because he seemed

across his face.

prepared to answer every question I had before I asked it.)

ing bathrooms and stables, that sort of thingso he fled.

The Chinese put tomatoes and pasta togetherthere's

He was sent to the lowest rung of employmentclean

He snuck out under cover of night, and spent the next two

no question. Moreover, the cheese traditions of Yunnan

decades on the lam, traveling the world, looking for a place

were a spillover from Yun's family's work; they perfected

to train and learn, and for something he could call a family.

cheese-aging, he told me, and sold the method to Italian

bankers in Emilia-Romagna sometime during the reign

But, in his opinion, Europe is bereft of exciting culi

of Genghis Khan. They're like culinary Knights Templar.

Yun's adoptive family are the keepers of a culinary herit
age completely forgotten by the Western world. They
hold tightly to their secrets and leave no trace of their
involvement, no path that could be followed hack to their
stronghold outside of Dali.
I know what you're thinking. Why would he be tell
ing me all of this? Why would he let a random journalist
chasing after pottery shards in on millennia of secrets?
If the fortress is so intensely secretive, why is he on the
outside of it, sharing?
That's what I asked him. And he said that the arrival

nary ideas, and America is worse. His life is dedicated to

the pursuit of cookinghe knows nothing else. Without
some sort of inspiration, he has no purpose. He told me
that tomorrow he will return to the fortress, and ask

them to let him join them again.

He's offered to let me go with him.
He warns me that these people live outside society
and outside the law, and that there is a certain amount

of danger to he considered. But the secrets of the world

are too great a temptation to pass by. I said I would go,
and I meant it. He sent me home to sleep, and told me

he would pick me up before the sun comes up. It's a long

of a Westerner looking for him in China signaled that

trip up the mountain, I gather.

I have no idea what I've gotten myself into here, hut I

"my time of exile must come to an end."

think we're on to something huge. I know we have a thou

What exile?

sand questions, and I'm sure David will, too. I will do my

He was youngeleven or twelve. He was stupid, in the

best to get as much as I can. Send through any queries.

way kids can be. He was playing around at the carp pond.
The family raised something he called "Kobe carp"he

syd

laughed a little at thismonstrous beasts, overfed, bred

to have particularly giant and supple jaws; one was killed
each winter for a fish-head feast for the family. There

From: S Finch < msfinch@leipzigger.de >

was a keeper of the pond, a sort of human cormorant,

Date: August 15, 2012 5:42:29 AM CST

who caught the fish with his bare hands to great fanfare.

To: Peter Meehan; Chris Ying

At some point Yun and another boy made a wager about

(No Subject)

whether or not they could catch one for themselves.

They knew the cormorant's schedule, and rushed to
the pond after breakfast one morning, before the man

Shit, I almost forgot. Can you guys find a photographer

would have a chance to return. Yun's friend went first,

we've got to document it.

and, astonishingly, hoisted one of the fish above his head.

He shouted out triumphantly as the fish wriggled and
gasped and thenYun stopped talking for several sec

who could meet me here? If what Yun tells me is true,

I think we did it, guys. Everything we know to be

European is Chinese. More later.

I wonder if they have wi-fi on magic mountain.

Lucky Peach \ 137

^ L = i | | i = J S i r S E l F = ^ r = n