Two foreigners — one a historian, the other a physician — have unwittingly changed my enduring eating habits with their revealing research on traditional Chinese diets that have long been oblivious to many.

Historian Thomas DuBois, a professor of humanities at Beijing Normal University, published a prose titled “The Many Histories of Chinese Vegetarianism” in mid-August in Sixth Tone, an English online publication based in Shanghai.

The subhead caught my eye: “China may be known for its love of meat, but for some gourmands, vegetarian cooking was the highest culinary art.”

As I read on, I came across a novel idea about food from the famous poet Yuan Mei (1716-97), who lived through a relatively prosperous period in the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).

Paraphrasing Yuan’s culinary aesthetics, DuBois wrote: “In his writing, ‘Recipes From the Garden of Contentment,’ Yuan comments that anyone can cook meat, but a su (素, generally refers to plant-based whole foods) diet is for the elite.”

Was Yuan a vegetarian or a vegan? Was it wrong that I used to eat more meat than vegetables, or strictly speaking, plant-based food? I was curious. So I read on.

DuBois didn’t just write about Yuan Mei. He delved into the anecdotes and aphorisms of many other ancient Chinese figures as well, for example, Su Dongpo (1037-1101), a cultural icon in the Song Dynasty (960-1279).

But Yuan’s story impressed me most, because DuBois gave a vivid description of Yuan’s book on food art. I had once heard about the book but had never read it. It was DuBois who finally familiarized me with some of the best parts of the legendary book — a booklet indeed. I bought a copy a few weeks ago and, with great interest, “devoured” it in half a day.

DuBois mentioned Yuan’s comment that a su diet is for the elite. I was excited when I discovered the original Chinese version. Here’s my attempted word-for-word translation of what Yuan wrote in his book: There are plant-based and meat-based foods, just like a piece of clothing with two sides — the inside and the outside. The elite people crave for plant-based food more than for meat-based food.

Yuan’s book is about food art, not about nutrition science, so he didn’t bother to explain why a su diet was for the elite. He just recorded what was popular in his time.

If you finish reading Yuan’s book, you will find, like I did, that Yuan was far from a vegetarian. He also wrote in detail how to cook poultry, seafood and many other types of meat-based food, but toward the end of the book, he declared: a su diet is for the elite, and rice and porridge are the most fundamental food while all others are secondary or supplementary.

He even went so far as to suggest that one could eat properly made rice or porridge without a company of any other stuff. Here again, he didn’t explain why rice and porridge are the very basic food, or the roots of nutrition.

Yuan’s book shows he was a balanced omnivore with a favor for plant-based and wholegrain food, like vegetables, tofu, rice and porridge. And in all cases — whether with plant-based or meat-based food — Yuan advised against using too much salt or fat oil. He didn’t give medical explanations for any of his dietary habits.

I soon discovered, however, that much of Yuan’s culinary practice is deeply rooted in the medical principles from “Huangdi Neijing” (黄帝内经, Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine), which is widely regarded as the foundational text of traditional Chinese medicine.

That was a few weeks ago when I began to read Michael Greger’s best-selling book “How Not To Die,” which refers to the Chinese classic. He is a founding member and fellow of the American College of Lifestyle Medicine.

Like the Qing Dynasty poet Yuan, Dr Greger advises against eating too much salt. He explains: “After one salty meal, not only does blood pressure increase but the arteries actually begin to stiffen. This may be how we figured out thousands of years ago that too much salt was bad for us.

“Quoting from a translation of ‘Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine,’ an ancient Chinese medical text, ‘If too much salt is used in food, the pulse hardens...’ It turns out that we may not need a double-blind trial; may be we just have to feed someone a bag of crisps and take his or her pulse.”

So a modern physician agrees with what an ancient Chinese medical classic says when it comes to dietary health. That’s something I didn’t expect when I opened Dr Greger’s book, which was first published in 2015 and has been reprinted several times.

Yu Li, a science expert and the proof reader of the Chinese translation of “How Not To Die,” explains that traditional Chinese medicine’s emphasis on food’s impact on one’s health has somehow begun to influence modern nutrition science. I would venture to add that in many ways, modern nutrition science, aided by laboratory experiments, and traditional Chinese medicine, long on observation, reinforce each other.

I had read the “Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine” before, but never read it carefully. Inspired by Dr Greger’s citation of the ancient classic as a support to his modern medical explanation, I finished reading the classic word by word in a few days.

In the process, I was amazed to find that the classic not just emphasizes the role of food in maintaining one’s health, but also explains which food is fundamental and which is supplementary. In general, it says, cereals and beans are fundamental, supplemented by fruits, vegetables and meat. This basically meshes with poet Yuan’s dietary pattern.

A change of diet

It dawned on me that my diet was far from balanced: I had eaten much more meat than vegetables, and much more salt than necessary. And I was not alone.

A latest article on the website of World Health Organization says that in China, high salt and oil intakes are taking a toll on the health of adults, who consume more than double the recommended daily intake of salt, and excessive amounts of cooking oil.

An article published on nature.com last June says that with rapid economic development and urbanization, dietary patterns in China have become more Westernized, with increased consumption of refined grains and meat.

It goes on to say: “Fatty foods are not the only issue that China’s physicians could be cursing in the future. Salt intake is among the highest in the world: Chinese adults eat, on average, more than 10 grams of salt a day. This is more than twice the limit recommended by WHO to prevent high blood pressure and reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease.”

In a regular physical check this summer, I was diagnosed with worsened atherosclerosis in my carotid arteries on both sides of my neck. Atherosclerosis, a term with Greek origin, means the build-up of cholesterol-filled deposits called plaque on the inner walls of arteries.

Without asking me about my dietary habit, the doctor responsible for my physical check curtly told me to eat less salt and red meat. I didn’t quite understand his suggestions until I eventually read Dr Greger and professor DuBois, both of whom acknowledge the ancient Chinese wisdom regarding eating for health.

Inspired by their research, I have changed myself into sort of a chef capable of creating a variety of healthier diets based more on cereals, beans, vegetables and fruits.

Now, a pot of porridge made of millet and brown rice has become my daily mainstay food, along with a bowl of boiled beans. In addition, I have tried to mix boiled broccoli with raw avocado, celery with carrots and shrimps, and so on, in order to increase my daily intake of plant-based nutrition.

I’m not going vegetarian or vegan; I’m going more balanced, as poet Yuan suggested hundred years ago in line with China’s ancient medical classic.

It’s time we all rediscovered the healing power of plant-based foods our ancestors had well observed but we had somehow neglected in our misguided pursuit of red-meat and fizzy drinks as “better food.”