Tastemakers

When it comes to food authenticity is an illusion

Authentic Cantonese fare to cook on your next get- together

Having spent my life equally divided between Taipei, Vancouver, New York, Beijing, then Hong Kong, I have come to realise that the foods we eat nowadays, no matter where we are, are all in one form or another, fusion. How tomatoes were introduced to Italy; how chillies came to define Sichuan cuisines; how the world standard for pho bo isn't defined by what is in Vietnam but North America; how milk tea became a synonym for Hong Kong tea houses. The way we cook, present, and even eat our foods, is the history of human migration on a plate. Whether anybody likes it or not, it is, and always will be, an ever-evolving progression.

I experienced my first encounter with Cantonese cuisines at 11 years old when my family moved from Taipei to Vancouver. It was, at the time, a culinary ground-zero where the sophisticated techniques of Cantonese cooking fatefully collided with the exquisite quality ingredients in west coast Canada. Alaska king crab steamed in minced garlic; spotted prawns with sizzled scallion soy sauce; spring rolls stuffed with sea urchin and pork. Like two binary stars that tangled and clashed, creating a temporary, micro explosion of dishes so phenomenal that I don't think, even till now, I have tasted better Cantonese food outside of ‘90s Vancouver.

In 2008, I came to Hong Kong for the first time in my life. I

searched for the same level of Cantonese cooking I experienced in Vancouver, and soon realised I may very well only find it in my memory. It was at that moment when I began to understand that the "Cantonese food" I upheld all these years, more glorious and "authentic" in the way that a cuisine is to be exercised to its highest aspiration, was in fact, not authentic at all. To a small degree but nonetheless, it was fusion.

This awareness began to shape how I perceive and cook foods. I try not to label or confine them within imaginary boundaries. How would Cantonese roast pork be done if a French chef has a say? The journey of a shrimp wonton around the world, though nonexistent in reality, can be conducted on a plate. The creaminess of Middle Eastern hummus rings true even in this part of the world where soy beans, not chickpeas, grow in abundance. Techniques, ingredients, flavours, textures, they are all just crayons in a box in front of a blank canvas. Deliciousness should be the only rule.