The true soul of a city is rarely found in its guidebook landmarks. It lives in the rhythm of daily life, in the hands of its artisans, and on the plates of its home cooks. Xiamen, the elegant island city of Fujian province, offers a postcard-perfect coastline and the UNESCO-listed Kulangsu. But to understand its gentle, poetic spirit, you must engage two senses deeply: sight and taste. This is a journey through the graceful dance of ink and the robust symphony of flavors—a tale of calligraphy and local cuisine, two arts that are profoundly, beautifully intertwined.
Before the first bite, there must be the first glance. Xiamen’s relationship with the written word is not merely functional; it is atmospheric. Wander through the older hutongs near Zhongshan Road, and you’ll see it. Faded, elegant characters grace century-old shop fronts selling tea or tailoring services. On Kulangsu, the former international settlement, mansion gates are crowned with stone plaques bearing family names, each character carved with a pride that has outlasted empires.
This is not the frantic graffiti of a metropolis. It is the calm, deliberate handwriting of a cultured port city. To appreciate it, I visited a quiet studio in a repurposed factory building. Here, Master Lin, a calligrapher with fingers stained faintly with ink, explained the philosophy. "Calligraphy is qi," he said, guiding his brush. "It is breath and movement. The paper is the world, the ink is your intention, and the brush is the bridge." He demonstrated the essential strokes: the firm pause, the sweeping curve, the delicate lift. The black ink bled into the thirsty rice paper, creating a landscape of its own—mountains, rivers, and valleys in a single character like "mountain" (山) or "sea" (海).
This art form seeps into the culinary experience in subtle ways. The menus in the most beloved local eateries are often handwritten on boards or in simple booklets, the characters for "Buddha Jumps Over the Wall" or "Oyster Omelet" rendered with a casual flair. During the Spring Festival, the city’s markets transform into a calligraphy fair as masters set up red paper and write personalized couplets for families, their wishes for prosperity and health flowing from the brush. The aesthetic is one of balanced asymmetry and harmonious flow—principles that, as you’ll discover, apply directly to the composition of a Xiamenese meal.
If calligraphy is Xiamen’s visual breath, its cuisine is the hearty, complex, and comforting heartbeat. Min Nan (Southern Fujian) cuisine, with Xiamen as one of its crown jewels, is a masterclass in texture, umami, and maritime freshness. It’s a cuisine built on contrasts: sweet and savory, soft and crunchy, land and sea. It mirrors the calligrapher’s balance between bold force and delicate restraint.
Your culinary journey must begin at the source: the sea. Xiamen is a city built on oysters, shrimp, crab, and countless fish. The most iconic dish, the one that is non-negotiable, is the Xiamen Oyster Omelet (Ō ā jiān). Forget Western omelets. This is a textural marvel. A batter of sweet potato starch and eggs creates a sticky, gelatinous, and slightly crispy net that cradles plump, fresh oysters. It’s served with a sweet-and-spicy chili sauce and a garnish of cilantro. Eating it is a messy, joyous adventure—a stark, delightful contrast to the precision of calligraphy, yet equally artful in its composition.
Next, explore the world of soups and noodles. Shāchá Noodles (Shāchá miàn) are Xiamen’s unique signature. A rich, nutty, and slightly spicy broth made from ground sesame, peanuts, and a secret blend of spices, it coats springy noodles, topped with pork liver, shrimp, and clams. Each component is distinct, yet the broth unites them, much like the unifying flow of ink in a piece of script.
Then there is Buddha Jumps Over the Wall (Fó tiào qiáng), the legendary banquet dish. While originating in Fuzhou, Xiamen’s version is a testament to the region’s luxury. Abalone, sea cucumber, scallops, ham, chicken, and more are simmered for days in a ceramic jar with Shaoxing wine, creating a broth so fragrant it’s said to entice monks over walls. It’s the culinary equivalent of a masterpiece, grand scroll—every ingredient a carefully chosen character, contributing to an overwhelming, harmonious whole.
Don’t miss the street food symphony. Satay Noodles (Shāchā miàn) from a tiny stall, with their creamy, peanut-infused broth, or Five-Spice Roll (Wǔxiāng juǎn), a log of braised meats and vegetables wrapped in bean curd sheet, fried, and sliced—these are the quick, energetic strokes of the city’s culinary calligraphy.
The magic of Xiamen reaches its peak where these two arts consciously meet. Seek out the traditional tea houses, particularly those on Kulangsu or hidden in the botanical gardens. Here, the setting is a curated experience. You sip on Tieguanyin oolong, the "Iron Goddess of Mercy" from nearby Anxi, its orchid aroma filling the air. The walls are adorned with scrolls of calligraphy, often poems about nature or friendship. The tea utensils are arranged with a mindful simplicity. Drinking tea here is a slow, meditative act, mirroring the preparation of ink. It cleanses the palate and the mind, preparing you for the next flavor, the next visual delight.
Modern Xiamen has also created fascinating fusions. Chic restaurants in the Siming district use calligraphic motifs in their interior design—a single, massive character rendered on a concrete wall. Their menus are minimalist works of art, and their dishes are plated with the negative space and balance of a Song dynasty painting. A deconstructed oyster omelet, or a delicate seafood consommé served in a porcelain cup beside a small scroll with the character "鲜" (xiān, meaning "fresh"), bridges centuries of tradition in a single, Instagrammable moment.
No exploration is complete without the sweet punctuation. Xiamen and Jinmen (Kinmen) are famous for their pineapple cakes (fēnglí sū). But these are not pies; they are buttery, crumbly shortbread parcels filled with a sweet-tart pineapple jam (often including winter melon for texture). Shaped like a plump rectangle, they are the perfect souvenir—a edible piece of craftsmanship. Boxes are often adorned with beautiful calligraphy, making the gift a feast for eye and stomach. Similarly, sun cakes (tàiyáng bǐng) with their flaky, multilayered crust and malt sugar filling, melt in the mouth like a sweet memory.
To travel through Xiamen with an eye for calligraphy and a palate for its cuisine is to read a living, breathing scroll. The city itself is the paper. The winding lanes, the lapping waves of the Taiwan Strait, the green folds of Gulangyu’s hills—these are the background wash. The calligraphy on shop signs and temple eaves are the inscriptions, the titles of this unfolding story. And the food? The food is the vibrant, detailed painting itself: the splash of chili red, the deep brown of satay, the translucent white of a fresh shrimp, the golden fry on an omelet.
You become the brush, moving through the city, tasting and seeing, adding your own temporary stroke to its long history. You learn that the robustness of shāchá noodles requires the delicacy of a fine tea to follow. That the bold, salty punch of the oyster omelet is balanced by the subtle, sweet finish of a pineapple cake. This is the Min Nan philosophy on a plate and in a frame: a perpetual, beautiful pursuit of harmony. So, let your hunger guide you, and let your eyes wander upward to the elegant scripts above the door. In Xiamen, you don’t just eat a meal or see an artwork—you consume a centuries-old culture, one delicious, graceful bite and glance at a time.
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Author: Xiamen Travel
Link: https://xiamentravel.github.io/travel-blog/calligraphy-and-local-cuisine-in-xiamen.htm
Source: Xiamen Travel
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