As far as I remember, my first taste of Chinese street food went like this: on the way home one evening, my uncle handed me a bundle of twig-thin sticks strung with tiny bits of mutton. Ten for one yuan, he said—which meant I could eat seventy for just one dollar! I did not eat seventy. I had about twenty, and they were indelible. For years afterwards, in my trips from the US to Beijing to visit family, I sought to recapture that delight of eating skewers as a child.

• Tags: Anthony Tao, China, Issue 25