Offerings for the hungry ghosts: From ancient rituals to instant noodles

(Photos: Poo Mu-chou, unless otherwise stated)

Food offerings hold a central place in Chinese religious rituals and festivals, a tradition that dates back to the earliest recorded periods of Chinese history. During funerals and religious ceremonies, animals such as cattle, sheep and pigs were sacrificed, underscoring the significance of these events.

Detailed accounts of such offerings can be found in Confucian classics like the Liji (《礼记》) and Yili (《仪礼》), as well as in historical texts such as the Shiji (《史记》) and Hanshu (《汉书》), which document the various foods used in state temple rituals.

What warrants deeper exploration, however, is the underlying rationale for these offerings. The most straightforward explanation is that people projected their own needs onto deities and ancestors — an anthropomorphic interpretation of the divine that appears in many religious traditions worldwide. Consequently, food offerings to gods and ancestors are not unique to Chinese culture. A more compelling approach, therefore, would be to examine Chinese practices within a broader global and historical framework.

Cambridge scholar Roel Sterckx has examined the significance of food offerings in early China, noting that classical texts reveal a carefully constructed system of meaning. According to these sources, the most elevated form of offering consisted of foods with simple, even tasteless flavours — a purity believed to align with the nature of the spirits.

Thus, the ideal sacrificial fare was not rich or heavily seasoned, but rather deliberately bland, reflecting the refinement of the divine. The focus, then, was not on indulgence but on cultivating a specific quality — tastelessness — to mirror the spiritual realm.

This deliberate manipulation of taste — and, by extension, meaning — was a distinctive feature of ancient Chinese elite culture. The intellectual and philosophical sophistication of the literati enabled them to construct elaborate metaphorical associations, linking the simplicity of bland food with the self-cultivation of the junzi (gentleman) and its suitability as an offering to the spirits. This perspective resonates with Confucius’s praise for his disciple Yan Hui, who lived on “a single bowl of rice and a cup of water” — a lifestyle emblematic of moral refinement.

Questions concerning the consumption of meat further preoccupied ancient thinkers, as meat symbolised wealth and social hierarchy, making it a crucial marker of status and ethical conduct. However, such nuanced interpretations of food were largely confined to elite intellectual circles; only a select few scholars likely grasped the deeper philosophical implications of tasteless offerings. For the general populace, food offerings remained a far more pragmatic affair — people simply presented what they deemed good, proper and within their means.

Anthropologists have long explored the symbolic dimensions of food, identifying two dominant interpretive frameworks. The first views foodways as a communicative system, akin to language or ritual, through which people establish connections with the spiritual world. The second interprets culinary practices — particularly the transformation from raw to cooked — as metaphors for broader existential or cosmic changes. 

In this light, the Chinese preparation of bland sacrificial food can be understood as a ritualised elevation of the ordinary into the divine. Parallels can be drawn, for instance, with ancient Egyptian beliefs, where food symbolised cosmic forces.

For example, the offering of simple clean water to the deities could be seen as a symbolic act representing the arrival of the Nile flood — the life-giving force of ancient Egypt. Milk was regarded as the nourishment in honour of the mother goddess Hathor — the cow goddess. Wine, which is the fruit of the vine, became the symbol of rejuvenation.

Yet crucially, Western anthropological discourse has seldom linked culinary artistry — the craft of food preparation and the philosophy of taste — to moral self-cultivation, statecraft or the pursuit of sagehood, as seen in early China.

This unique integration is exemplified in Zhuangzi’s parable of Chef Ding, whose effortless mastery in carving an ox serves as a metaphor for achieving profound moral self-cultivation. Similarly, Laozi’s dictum that “governing a great state is like cooking a small fish” (治大国若烹小鲜) directly intertwines statecraft with culinary finesse, suggesting that delicate, non-interfering action is key to both.

In modern Taiwanese religious practices, food offerings can be broadly categorised into two types: vegetarian offerings for Buddhist and Daoist rituals, and non-vegetarian offerings for other ceremonies, including ancestor worship.

Several key observations can be made about contemporary Taiwanese food offerings:

Composition of offerings

In practice, food offerings are frequently combined with non-food items such as incense, flowers and paper money. In recent years, with changing economic conditions and evolving consumer preferences, meat offerings — whether raw or cooked — have become less common.

Practical considerations

The nature of offerings often depends on the location where they are prepared. For household or small business settings (such as home altars or shopfront shrines), whole chickens or fish remain convenient options. However, for temple offerings, practitioners typically prefer more portable items like dried foods, fresh fruits or flowers.

Evolution of practices 

The shift toward simpler, more manageable offerings reflects both practical considerations and changing religious sensibilities in modern Taiwanese society.

Offerings in folk religious temples, such as the Mazu temple, used to be provided by the temple administration. People came in only to pray and make divinations for fortune telling.

It seems that after the Covid-19 pandemic, the current fashion is for people to bring their own offerings to the temple and place the items on a table prepared by the temple staff. 

With the changing pace of life, convenience became a driving force behind the choice of food items. Instant noodles gradually became the “favourite” food that the gods desired.

As instant beef noodles can be offered, it is no surprise that boba tea and potato chips have become suitable snacks for the deities.

I have not seen fresh soy bean milk and baked bread, and fried dough (豆浆烧饼油条) being offered to the deities, but I would not be surprised if people do that. After all, buns and dumplings (包子馒头) have already made their way to the offering table.

Not surprisingly, none of the ancient observance of the tasteless offerings were preserved in contemporary Taiwan, as it was probably never part of the popular religious customs.

Food offerings in Taiwanese religious practice carry rich symbolic meanings, most of which derive from traditional folk wisdom. Common symbolic associations include:

Even for offerings without direct symbolic connections, there persists a general association with good fortune and prosperity. This symbolic system suggests that contemporary Taiwanese food offerings — whether for temple rituals or funerals — continue the ancient tradition of using offerings as communicative bridges to the divine realm, seeking blessings through meaningful gifts.

However, these practices are not static. As society evolves, so too must the offerings that please the deities. The symbolic language of food offerings necessarily adapts to remain relevant within changing social contexts, maintaining its spiritual efficacy while accommodating modern realities.

When Chinese people move overseas, and when they continue practising their religious customs and making offerings to the spirits, what has changed, what has not, and why? 

An anthropologist working in overseas Chinese communities could provide a better explanation on this. But I would predict that as long as people follow the same custom of making offerings to the traditional deities, be they Guangong (关公) or Mazu (妈祖), what matters would not be a matter of taste, like the ancient Chinese intellectuals had elaborated, but a matter of practicality, for that is the essence of Chinese popular religion.

Related: Teochew rice drawings: Capturing the divine in grains of rice | Lasting ties: Food for the departed