Food and empire

There are perhaps few cultures in this world that are as obsessed with food as Chinese culture.

A cheeky observer might point out that where classical Indian art is largely preoccupied with depicting scenes of a sexual nature, classical Chinese art is preoccupied with depicting scenes of an epicurean nature.

Confucian philosophy might be paraphrased as "make dinner, not war."

Legend has it that when the Duke Ling of Wei asked Confucius about military tactics, Confucius professed to have knowledge only of matters pertaining to meats but not the military.

And where other cultures mark the passage of time with significant political events or military battles, Chinese historians do so with significant banquets.

Take, for example, the Banquet at the Hong Gate, a great feast that marked the establishment of the Han dynasty (206 BCE-220 CE). The entire course of Chinese history was altered by a leg of pork and complex seating arrangements.

Or the lucullan banquet thrown for the Gaozong Emperor, the first emperor of the Southern Song (1127-1162), by Prince Qing he. For an emperor looking to establish his political legitimacy, many of the hundreds of dishes that were served at this repast were prepared from recipes from earlier eras, thus linking the present with the past. Also, the antique serving vessels--from the Shang (1766-1122 B.C.) and Chou (1122-221 B.C.) dynasties--and the ancient calligraphies decorating the walls of the dining room were an acknowledgement of the emperor's role as the carrier of Chinese tradition. 

These feasts were noteworthy less for their gastronomy than for their symbolism. They were spectacles, with singing, dancing and martial displays. Yes, the numerous dishes demonstrated the emperor could command all things under heaven, but the emperor wasn't expected to eat them, making them rather like the offerings one makes to a supernatural deity.

In choosing the setting and composition of the meal, the host and the diner thereby identified themselves with a certain set of values and a certain group of society. (As you can well imagine, faced with such a richness and variety of food on a daily basis, the emperor often hankered for simpler food. Stories abound of such-and-such emperor leaving the palace in disguise in order to quietly enjoy market fare. It's like wanting a Snickers bar after a ten-course kaiseki meal.)

There were strict rules governing every aspect of a meal. For example, the emperor had to be served more than thirty courses, highly-placed palace officials were served eleven courses, officials of lower rank were served seven, and those of still lower rank got five and three courses, in descending order of importance.

Certain dishes had to be served to a certain level of person, and deviation from this ritual order was indication that something was seriously wrong.

The chronicler Meng Yuan-lao describes the consternation in court when, at a feast given for foreign envoys by the Song emperor, the envoy of the Liao, the great northern enemy of the Song dynasty, was most unusually served mutton and pork and a saucer of leek-garlic vinegar.

Was it any wonder then that the empire fell shortly thereafter?

Sources:

K.C. Chang in Food in Chinese Culture: Anthropological and Historical Perspectives, ed. K.C. Chang, 1977.

Ying-shih Yü in Food in Chinese Culture: Anthropological and Historical Perspectives, ed. K.C. Chang, 1977.

James L. Watson in "From the Common Pot: Feasting with Equals in Chinese Society," Anthropos, 1987.

Michael Freeman in Food in Chinese Culture: Anthropological and Historical Perspectives, ed. K.C. Chang, 1977.