From Royal Banquets to Family Tables: The Zhou Dynasty Origins
The practice of taking home leftovers from meals, far from being a modern invention, has deep roots in Chinese civilization dating back to the Zhou Dynasty (1046-256 BCE). Archaeological and textual evidence reveals that food packing was not merely practical but embedded in the ritual fabric of ancient society.
The Book of Rites (Yili), a classic text compiling Zhou ceremonial practices, documents the “Gongshi Dafu Li” – the official banquet ritual where a ruler would host foreign envoys. These state banquets featured an elaborate display of culinary sophistication: seven bronze tripod cauldrons for different meats, six gui vessels for grains, washing basins, and various serving dishes. The menu included beef, lamb, pork, millet, fermented sauces, pickled leeks, and fine wines.
What happened after the feast was equally ritualized: “The officials shall wrap the remaining meats from the three sacrificial animals and deliver them to the guest’s residence.” Failure to properly pack and deliver these leftovers constituted a serious diplomatic breach that could strain interstate relations. This early example shows how food packing transcended practicality to become a matter of state protocol and international courtesy.
Confucian Scholars and the Philosophy of Packing
The Confucian tradition further developed the philosophical underpinnings of this practice. The Liji (Book of Rites) records a fascinating debate where someone questioned Zengzi, a prominent Confucian disciple, about whether gentlemen should take home leftovers. The critic argued that proper gentlemen shouldn’t pack food after eating their fill.
Zengzi’s response invoked the Zhou banquet rituals, noting that if even rulers packed food for guests, commoners should certainly not consider it improper. He turned the critique on its head, arguing that not packing leftovers was the true breach of etiquette. This exchange reveals how food conservation became intertwined with moral philosophy in early Chinese thought.
Filial Piety on a Plate: The Emotional Dimensions of Leftovers
Beyond state rituals and philosophical debates, food packing carried deep emotional significance in family relationships. Historical texts abound with touching stories of officials saving delicacies for elderly parents.
One poignant account from the Zuo Zhuan tells of Ying Kaoshu, a minister who set aside meat at a royal banquet. When questioned by Duke Zhuang of Zheng, Ying explained: “My humble mother has tasted all my food, but never meat from your table. May I take this to her?” This simple act of filial devotion reportedly moved the duke to reconcile with his own estranged mother.
Perhaps the most famous example comes from the “Twenty-Four Filial Exemplars” – the story of six-year-old Lu Ji secretly tucking away oranges during a visit to warlord Yuan Shu. When the fruit tumbled from his robes during farewells, the embarrassed boy confessed: “I wanted to bring some for my mother.” Rather than punishing the theft, Yuan Shu marveled at such precocious filial devotion.
The Southern Dynasties scholar Xu Xiaoke took this practice to new heights. The Chen Shu records that during imperial banquets, he would barely eat but mysteriously have less food before him when the plates were cleared. Emperor Xuan of Chen eventually discovered Xu was secretly stashing delicacies in his waistband to bring to his mother. Deeply moved, the emperor decreed that henceforth, Xu’s portion would be officially packed for his mother – creating an imperial precedent for compassionate food sharing.
When Emperors Encouraged Doggie Bags: Institutionalizing the Practice
By the Tang Dynasty (618-907 CE), what began as individual acts had become institutionalized. The Jintai Jiwen records a revealing incident from Emperor Xuanzong’s reign: After a state banquet, officials bowed in gratitude, causing hidden fruits to spill from their robes. When questioned, they explained these were destined for parents and children back home.
Rather than punishing this covert packing, the enlightened emperor formalized the practice. He ordered that henceforth, officials would receive two additional portions – one for parents, another for children – with explicit permission to pack unconsumed food in handkerchiefs. This “leftovers policy” continued through subsequent dynasties, with Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) officials facing punishment for failing to pack their banquet leftovers.
The practice extended beyond food to tableware itself. Sun Chengze’s Spring Dream Chronicles notes that Ming officials would treasure and preserve imperial banquet vessels as family heirlooms and ritual objects – a tangible connection to imperial favor and a reminder of thrift values.
The Scholar’s Banquet: Packing as Intellectual Virtue
Among literati circles, food packing became associated with intellectual integrity. The Northern Song politician Sima Guang, while compiling his monumental Zizhi Tongjian, formed the “Sincere Gathering” club with like-minded friends. Their charter mandated simple meals (no more than five flavors or thirty dishes) and strict rules against wasteful drinking. Most significantly, it required “taking home all leftovers” – with penalties for violations.
The celebrated poet-official Su Shi embodied this ethos during his agricultural exiles. His poem “Harmonizing with Tao Yuanming’s Return to Dwell in the Countryside” describes sharing homegrown lychees with visitors, insisting they take the surplus home for their children. Despite his reputation as a gourmet, Su valued conservation over culinary extravagance.
Even tea culture embraced this mentality. The Yunxian Sanlu records how Tang Dynasty monk Zhi Chong served different tea grades – finest for Buddha, medium for guests, lowest for himself. Guests would use special oiled bags to take home leftover tea, unwilling to waste even steeped leaves.
The Enduring Legacy of Ancient Packing Culture
The cultural significance of food packing persisted through China’s imperial history. Zhu Yongchun’s Family Instructions of Master Zhu (17th century) crystallized the philosophy: “For each bowl of rice or porridge, think of how it came by hard work; for each half-length of silk or thread, remember the toil required to make it.”
This ancient practice offers surprising modern relevance. As contemporary societies grapple with food waste and sustainability, China’s three-millennia tradition of mindful consumption provides historical perspective. The “Clean Plate Campaign” and modern packaging innovations continue a cultural conversation that began with Zhou diplomats and Confucian scholars.
From royal diplomacy to family devotion, from philosophical debates to agricultural poetry, the simple act of packing leftovers reveals profound insights into Chinese civilization’s values – a testament to how everyday practices carry the weight of history and wisdom.