Hit movie serves up a taste of nostalgia

As the film Dear You continues its strong Chinese box-office run, surpassing 1.1 billion yuan ($162 million) since its release on April 30, a bowl of dark pickled olive vegetable and a plate of rice-less cakes have unexpectedly moved audiences to tears. These traditional foods from Chaoshan — a region that includes the cities of Shantou, Chaozhou and Jieyang, all in Guangdong province, and is known for its strong clan traditions and well-preserved folk customs — have quietly stepped into the spotlight, becoming some of the film's most emotional symbols.

Threaded through the story are decades of qiaopi letters — overseas Chinese correspondence that once connected families across Southeast Asia and southern China. Alongside them, the enduring flavors of Chaoshan cuisine emerge as a living archive of migration, longing and home.

From ancestral Guangdong courtyards to streets in far-flung Chinatowns, these everyday dishes have carried generations of memory and are now becoming a window for the world to rediscover Chaoshan's landscape, people and history. For many viewers, the film is not just a story of distance and return, but a shared memory.

For 56-year-old Shanghai-based chef Huang Peibin, whose hometown is Puning in Jieyang, the film feels deeply personal.

"This is a very authentic Chaoshan story," he said. "The hardships of leaving home and struggling to build a life elsewhere are very familiar to us. Hearing the dialect and seeing the old houses really touched me."

Having spent 36 years in the kitchen, Huang said he believes that every dish in the film reflects the resilience and wisdom of Chaoshan people.

In the film's final scenes, Chaoshan-born Ye Shurou travels to visit Xie Nanzhi in Thailand, bringing only a basket of fresh green olives as a hometown gift. When the elderly Xie, suffering from Alzheimer's disease, instinctively reacts to the taste, a subtle expression becomes one of the film's most heart-wrenching moments.

"Olives are very common in Chaoshan," Huang explained. "They grow in the mountainous areas and are used in daily cooking. They are also important offerings in ancestral worship and traditional ceremonies, including weddings."

Another recurring ingredient in the film is the Indian gooseberry, known for its initially bitter taste followed by lingering sweetness.

"Some people eat it fresh, while others soak it in salt and sugar," Huang said. "But the most fascinating part is always the aftertaste."

To Huang, that flavor reflects the spirit of Chaoshan people who leave home to seek opportunities elsewhere: Bitterness may come first, but sweetness always lingers.

The film also highlights wumiguo, which are rice-less cakes made from sweet potato starch. The preparation is carefully shown: translucent dough wrapped around a chive filling, sizzling in hot oil until crisp and golden.

Originally created during difficult times, the cakes were made with simple ingredients such as chives, mustard greens or preserved vegetables.

Today, they remain a ceremonial staple in many households, especially during ancestral rites and festive occasions.

As the executive chef of Dingzhenhui, a high-end Chaozhou cuisine restaurant in Shanghai, Huang now serves these traditional dishes to diners in the metropolis. By maintaining the labor-intensive, slow-cooking methods passed down through generations, he aims to offer patrons an authentic taste of the culinary heritage that sustained his ancestors.

Beyond these festive dishes, the film also highlights everyday Chaoshan food, especially pickled olive vegetable. Though modest in appearance, the dish has the taste that migrants miss most.

"Making it properly takes time," Huang said. "The olives have to be softened, mashed and stir-fried for hours before the aroma comes out."

Throughout the film, gongfu tea appears almost constantly, serving as more than just a drink. In Chaoshan culture, it is a symbol of hospitality and connection.

As Chaoshan communities have spread across China and overseas, the tea tradition has traveled with them, becoming a cultural thread that connects generations abroad. "Wherever Chaoshan people go, gongfu tea goes with them," Huang said.

Beyond flavor and ritual, gongfu tea also embodies a deeper social fabric of trust, solidarity and mutual help among Chaoshan people.

"When Chaoshan people meet anywhere, they call each other 'our people'," Huang said.

"No matter which city they come from, there is an immediate sense of familiarity."