After shooting documentaries for more than two decades， Chen Xiaoqing is now widely recognized as a foodie. He would rather be known as a food lover than a “gastronomist”， however. In early 2016， he published the book Best Food on Earth， a collection of standout articles from his food column over the past ten years. From the 70-plus articles， readers get a glimpse of Chen’s gradually deepening understanding of food over the years. In the book， Chen traces the core of his cuisine theory： It is people that taste best. However， according to Chen， this misleadingly appalling statement actually means that love and communication between people makes the most delicious food. To Chen， the three ultimate questions are“Where will I eat？”， “What will I eat？” and“Who will I eat with？”
　　Memories Make Decisions


　　Chen believes that food diversity should be as respected as biodiversity. China’s food diversity exists in ordinary people’s everyday meals， from green turnips and preserved eggs in the areas along the Yangtze and Huaihe rivers， various flour-based foods in northern China， to seafood delicacies in coastal areas. Chen loves a great variety of restaurants. From century-old Peking Duck restaurants and modern Sichuan hot pots， to small catering services selling only a special kind of Hunan rice noodles， Chen’s sole criterion for choosing food is taste.
　　To most Chinese today， “Where will I eat？” and “What will I eat？” are no longer tough questions. Numerous answers are always available. However， Chen talks about everyone’s personal and unique memories about food， memories which often determine the answers to those two questions.
　　In the early 1980s， Chen was admitted to a university in Beijing. Not long after he arrived in the city， his local classmates took him to a restaurant specializing in Yanji style Korean cold noodles. Yanji is the prefectural seat of Yanbian Korean Autonomous Prefecture in Jilin Province， and this restaurant began operation in Beijing in 1943， the first to sell Yanji-style Korean cold noodles in the capital. “The first bite made me feel weird， a mixed taste of soy sauce， kimchi， and white vinegar，”recalls Chen. “But after several visits， I gradually got addicted.” Years later， when Chen finally visited Yanji on a business trip， he was invited to eat local Korean cold noodles. “Your cold noodles don’t taste very authentic，” Chen commented while eating， thinking of the cold noodles he had in Beijing. His hosts were taken back. “No one has more authentic cold noodles than us，” they retorted. “We are the birthplace of this in China.” This phenomenon， Chen believes， is food diversity caused by time. When a kind of food has been cemented next to an important memory for people， that taste no longer matters much， like the cold noodles in Beijing. After decades， the noodles’ flavor became a unique memory of his younger days for Chen. To this day， when Chen is in bad mood， he comforts himself with a large bowl in that same Beijing cold noodle restaurant. 　　Similar examples abound. Chen also mentions an anecdote involving some Chinese-language hosts from Japan’s public broadcaster NHK. When returning to Tokyo after a recent business trip to Beijing， they brought back eight kilograms of pastries from Beijing’s Daoxiangcun Store. Even during the Spring Festival， a time people eat more in Chinese tradition， so much could hardly be consumed by an extended family in a whole week. The Japanese announcers told Chen that the pastries were meant as gifts to Beijing seniors who came to Japan in the 1980s. “They will all be eaten in two days at most，” they swore. Indeed， Daoxiangcun， a pastry store established in 1895 and the first to sell southernstyle Chinese pastries in Beijing， resumed large-scale production in the 1980s. When most Chinese still led very humble lives back then， a Daoxiangcun cake was an unforgettable luxury.


　　Best Foods at Their Birthplaces
　　Chen believes that simple answers already exist for questions pertaining to“where” and “what” to eat. The best foods or dishes are always at their birthplaces. Once a certain dish or food leaves its homeland， authentic ingredients and raw materials required by their recipes may not be available. Chinese restaurants， seeking to cater to new customers in a new environment， usually compromise on taste to adapt to the local market. Tastes often change when they come to a new place.
　　Chen shares another story of a Sichuan native friend. The friend visits the mountainous areas of Sichuan Province and Chongqing Municipality every spring. When he discovers a delicious local restaurant or a family cooking nice food， he has a homestay with them. Once he gains their trust， they let him stand in the kitchen and watch them cooking. When he returned to Beijing after one trip， the friend invited Chen to his home and cooked dishes he learned in the mountainous areas. “But most dishes are not that good， or at least not as good as he described when he first had it in Sichuan，” remarks Chen. “That’s what I mean when I say once dishes travel to another place， they are not as good as those in their original places.”
　　However， for people who cannot visit a specific place just for a specific food， Chen has his own experience deciding “where and what to eat.” “For those living in major Chinese cities， if you find a restaurant in your office building with fancy decorations， especially selling food from every major Chinese cuisine style， avoid it，” advises Chen. “The food is probably not that good. If you want to find a good restaurant， try to discover hidden gems. I mean ‘lonely’ restaurants with no nearby peers， but tons of customers. Or try the restaurant in an area with fierce competition， and it has inconceivably great numbers of customers. If you really love eating， you can always detect something from a restaurant’s name. If the name mentions a specific place， that’s a good sign. For example， a restaurant with the name “Yang’s Rice Noodle from Gaoshui in Mianyang， Sichuan Province”probably serves decent food. The place is possibly operated by a Mianyang local or the chef comes from that area. You know， Chinese people don’t want to bring shame on their home towns.”


　　People Is the Best to Eat
　　In Chen’s eyes， “With whom will I eat？”is the core of his three ultimate questions. The connection between people and food is of great importance. To Chen， good dining partners are hard to find. “People who can eat at the same table should also be able to communicate about a wide variety of topics，”says Chen. He chuckles that he has dining partners with whom he has so much chemistry that they meet for dinner after only a text message. “That’s why I think people are the best to eat. If you eat with someone you can’t talk with， even the best food tastes bad. Think about the best food you ever had. It must be eaten with people you love.”
　　Chen believes that food cooked by family or eaten with family is the best. He recalled his experience of visiting a formal restaurant for the first time at 16 with his father. “The mutton soup was hot and the lamb was sliced into thin pieces. I ate one slice. It was full of texture and so good. The soup looked like milk and tasted absolutely delicious. Oh my god！ How could such tasty stuff exist on earth？” He also mentioned his mother. “Even today， when I visit my parents， my mom still sits next to me after placing all dishes on table， like she always has. ‘My son， look at how much grey hair you have now！’ she always says.” So， when people ask him to recommend restaurants for Lunar New Year Eve’s dinner， the most important dinner of a year in Chinese culture， Chen’s answer is always the same： “Eat at home with your family.”