从文学城里的一个帖子下面的回复抄来的。我的食物和我对食物的看法
It's interesting that I read something today about the Russian immigrants in the 1970s, mostly Russian Jews and dissidents, intellectuals. They gathered together inan apartment in a certain borough of NYC, enjoyed their Russian breakfast daily and did nothing but scold the Americans! They thought they were the only people that had eaten food and drank vodka properly.
There's an uncanny resemblance between the new Russian and Chinese immigrants in regard to food. Food is something very important to these people because of its sentimental value. To me, food means nothing but what makes me not hungry and be healthy, something that provides calories and energy.
Food, to me, however, has lost its sentimental values or symbolic meaning.
I don't miss neither the life nor people in China, that's probably why I can
accept that I am a mediocre cook and my lunch at work is either a homemade gulash, a leftover stew or rice pilaf, or whatever keeps me going till COB (close of business).
