Auntie Wang's daughter, away for ten years, finds her mother's cooking too salty. Her mother sees a betrayal; the others see a trace.
Auntie Wang
我闺女在外地十年了，回家说我做的菜太咸。
Wǒ guīnü zài wàidì shí nián le, huí jiā shuō wǒ zuò de cài tài xián.
My daughter has lived away ten years; coming home, she said my cooking was too salty.
Xiaoyu
阿姨，口味是会变的。水不一样，菜不一样，人也就跟着变了。
Āyí, kǒuwèi shì huì biàn de. Shuǐ bù yīyàng, cài bù yīyàng, rén yě jiù gēn zhe biàn le.
Auntie, taste changes over time. The water is different, the vegetables are different, and people change with them.
Auntie Wang
变了就是忘本。
Biàn le jiùshì wàngběn.
Changing means forgetting where you come from.
Chen Hao
这话重了。我在南方待了三年，现在也吃不了太辣。
Zhè huà chóng le. Wǒ zài nánfāng dāi le sān nián, xiànzài yě chī bù le tài là.
That is too harsh. I spent three years in the south, and now I cannot take very hot food either.
Zhang laoshi
一个人的口味，差不多就是他的简历。在哪儿待过，舌头都记着。
Yī gè rén de kǒuwèi, chàbuduō jiùshì tā de jiǎnlì. Zài nǎr dāi guò, shétou dōu jì zhe.
Someone's taste is more or less their résumé. Everywhere they have lived, the tongue remembers.
Xiaoyu
这个说法有意思。那我的简历上，大概写着两个城市。
Zhè gè shuōfa yǒu yìsi. Nà wǒ de jiǎnlì shàng, dàgài xiě zhe liǎng gè chéngshì.
That is a nice way of putting it. Mine must have two cities written on it, then.
Auntie Wang
那我孙子呢？他最爱吃的是炸鸡，我做的菜他一口都不动。
Nà wǒ sūnzi ne ? Tā zuì ài chī de shì zhájī, wǒ zuò de cài tā yī kǒu dōu bù dòng.
And what about my grandson? What he likes best is fried chicken, and he will not touch a thing I cook.
Chen Hao
那也是他的一段。等他三十岁，想起来的不一定是炸鸡。
Nà yě shì tā de yī duàn. Děng tā sānshí suì, xiǎng qǐ lái de bù yīdìng shì zhájī.
That is a chapter of his life too. At thirty, it will not necessarily be fried chicken he remembers.
Auntie Wang
可我怕，等我不在了，家里那几个菜就断了。
Kě wǒ pà, děng wǒ bù zài le, jiālǐ nà jǐ gè cài jiù duàn le.
But I am afraid that the day I am gone, the few family dishes will die with me.
Zhang laoshi
那就趁现在教他。别只让他吃，让他站在灶台边上。
Nà jiù chèn xiànzài jiāo tā. Bié zhī ràng tā chī, ràng tā zhàn zài zàotái bian shàng.
Then teach him while you can. Do not just let him eat, stand him beside the stove.
Xiaoyu
我外婆的红烧肉，我到现在也做不出那个味儿。
Wǒ wàipó de hóngshāoròu, wǒ dào xiànzài yě zuò bù chū nà gè wèir.
My grandmother's red-braised pork, to this day I cannot get that taste.
Chen Hao
是手法的问题？
Shì shǒufǎ de wèntí ?
Is it a matter of technique?
Xiaoyu
是，也不是。同一个方子，换个锅、换个灶，味儿就不一样了。
Shì, yě bùshì. Tóng yī gè fāngzi, huàn gè guō, huàn gè zào, wèir jiù bù yīyàng le.
Yes and no. The same recipe, but a different pan and a different flame, and the taste is not the same.
Zhang laoshi
所以菜谱留得住做法，留不住人。
Suǒyǐ càipǔ liú de zhù zuòfǎ, liú bù zhù rén.
So a recipe book keeps the method, it does not keep the person.
Auntie Wang
那今天晚上你们都来。我做三个菜，你们看着，别光吃。
Nà jīntiān wǎnshang nǐmen dōu lái. Wǒ zuò sān gè cài, nǐmen kàn zhe, bié guāng chī.
Then come round this evening, all of you. I will make three dishes, and you will watch, not only eat.
To forget your root, that is, to disown your origin or those who made you. The reproach is a grave one in Chinese, far graver than its brevity suggests, which is why Chen Hao answers 这话重了, "that is too harsh". That answer is, incidentally, the ordinary way of softening an accusation without throwing it back.
The potential complement here sets what can be kept against what slips away: 留得住做法，留不住人. The symmetry of the two forms makes the whole sentence, and Chinese needs no conjunction to build it. English has to add a pronoun and a semicolon to say the same.
趁现在教他: take the chance while it is here and teach him. 趁 goes before the opportunity to be seized, and it often carries the idea that the opportunity will not last: 趁热吃, eat while it is hot; 趁早, while it is still early. It is that implication that makes Zhang's line so unemphatic and yet so clear.
