Where it all began.

In a world that never stops changing, some things remain constant. Taste is one of them — and the memories it carries.

It reminds us where we come from.

A person sitting at a table decorating small figurines with a paintbrush, surrounded by various confections and chocolates on plates and trays. 
Beijing, China 1990. My father preparing his competition pieces for the World pastry Championship
A woman is swinging a whip like object over a table covered in flour, with steam or flour dust rising from the table, while a man watches nearby in a room with wooden room dividers. 
Jinan, China 1991. My father teaching the ancient art of Dragon Beard Noodles — pulled by hand into thousands of silk-thin strands

From Watching to Creating: My Journey Home Through Food

As a child, I'd watch my father spend hours sculpting dough into tiny worlds — vegetables, animals, intricate scenes that came alive in his hands. Layering, coloring, shaping. I never asked why. I just watched, mesmerized.

Years later, I learned he was practicing one of China's oldest culinary crafts, dating back over 1,000 years to the Tang Dynasty — China's golden age, our Renaissance. Back then, dim sum wasn't just food. It was sculpture. Edible art shaped like boats, flowers, nature itself.

I never thought I'd follow that path. My father never pushed me to. Instead, I built a career in international business, traveling the world, always chasing what felt exciting and far away.

Then in 2017, I moved to Munich for work.

Suddenly, the taste of home — my grandmother's soup, my father's dishes — became rare. Food became more than fuel. It became memory. Comfort. Identity. My taste buds were searching for something familiar in a foreign place.

Cities change. Menus evolve. But what my tongue remembers is that first bite from childhood.

That's something the world can't take away, no matter how fast it moves.

So I started cooking. Nearly every day for nine years now, with my father as my guide through video calls — celebrating small wins, troubleshooting frustrations. Today, I'm proud to share my dishes with German, Chinese, and international friends here in Munich.

And now, as a professional home chef, I want to share this joy with you.

In China, we say: You are what you eat. When we cook and eat together, we spread happiness into our food — and that food, in return, nourishes not just our bodies, but our souls.

I can't wait to invite you into this experience.

TASTE HOME AGAIN