Jews Love Chinese Food—Now Let’s Build Something Deeper

Torontonians of a certain age will remember Ginsberg & Wong. Part deli, part Chinese eatery, the downtown restaurant was a culinary mashup ahead of its time: foot-long kosher hot dogs served with curly fries in bamboo steamers, “Ike and Tina Tuna” sandwiches, and magicians who entertained the diners. Though it closed decades ago, patrons still post nostalgic reviews online.

The restaurant’s logo was just as unforgettable—and, in hindsight, symbolically meaningful: a short, stout middle-aged Jewish guy and a tall, slim Chinese man standing side by side, business partners and equals. What began as a restaurant concept could now serve as a cultural metaphor. Perhaps it’s time to treat that image as more than kitsch—a foundation for a modern alliance between two ancient civilizations.

How do we operationalize that?

Walk into a Chinese restaurant on Christmas Eve in New York, and you’ll find the tables packed—with Jews. Jackie Mason pointed out that Jews love Chinese food, but how come you never see a Chinese person eating gefilte fish?

He had a point. Jews flock to lo mein, but Chinese teens are not lined up at Katz’s Deli for pastrami on rye. Beyond cuisine, Jews adopt Chinese babies, book acupuncture, play mah-jongg, and even learn Mandarin. From the outside, it can look like a one-way cultural romance. Why the asymmetry—and does it matter?

Jewish Curiosity Meets Chinese Discipline

Jewish culture thrives on inquiry. From Talmudic debate to a deep reverence for learning, Jews are cultural omnivores, often drawn to systems of thought that promise structure and depth. Chinese medicine—with its holistic worldview, elemental theory, and metaphysical vocabulary—has long intrigued Jews looking for meaning beyond the clinical paradigm of Western medicine. Acupuncture, Qi Gong, the Five Elements—these ideas resonate with a Jewish soul that seeks out pattern, metaphor, and mystery.

Then there’s the personal. Jewish families have adopted Chinese babies in significant numbers, creating thousands of intimate, interwoven stories across continents. On a cultural level, many Jews admire Confucian ideals: a devotion to education, reverence for ancestors, disciplined striving. These values feel familiar.

Susan Cain, Harvard, and the Art of Schmooze

In Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking, Susan Cain observes that many brilliant Chinese students at Ivy League schools don’t struggle in the classroom—they struggle in the cafeteria. They don’t schmooze. And in places like Harvard, schmoozing—that uniquely Jewish blend of charm, small talk, argument, and wit—is part of the informal curriculum. Cain describes a cultural mismatch: Chinese students may see humility and restraint as virtues, while their American peers (often including Jews) dominate social spaces through extroversion.

This isn’t a shortcoming—it’s a style. Chinese culture tends to value understatement and deference. Jewish culture, by contrast, leans loud. It prizes debate, storytelling, and public discourse. These are not incompatible ways of being—they are complementary. But they help explain why Jewish interest in Chinese culture often feels unreciprocated. It’s not that Chinese communities are disinterested—it’s that, culturally, they may not make the first move.

So the burden—and the opportunity—falls to the Jews.

Why Now? Shared Success, Shared Scrutiny

Jews and Chinese people have more in common than they often realize: diasporic histories, reverence for learning, strong family bonds, and a high cultural value placed on education and achievement. These qualities have contributed to remarkable success in fields like medicine, science, business, and the arts.

But in today’s polarized climate, both groups are increasingly targeted by ideologies that frame merit-based success as systemic privilege. In this view, academic achievement and economic mobility are no longer signs of resilience—they’re symptoms of complicity in oppressive systems.

Jews have seen this movie before. Chinese Americans are beginning to recognize the script. Both communities are at risk of being scapegoated, not for failing, but for thriving. If we don’t form a conscious cultural and intellectual alliance, we risk being divided and diminished by forces that cannot or will not distinguish success from supremacy.

Toward a Cultural Conversation

There are early signs of movement. Yeshiva University has developed courses comparing Jewish and Chinese cultures, exploring shared philosophical structures, historical struggles, and moral teachings. This is a promising start. There are a fleet of young students — Jews and Chinese — taking these courses.

But we need more: cultural exchanges, joint think tanks, community organizations, business networks, co-authored publications, bilingual storytelling, and educational initiatives. We need partnerships in academia, in medicine, in innovation, in media—and we need them now.

Yes, this alliance may begin with acupuncture, lo mein, and a shared love of ancient texts. But it can grow into something deeper—an ethical and strategic partnership that protects both traditions from erasure, distortion, and backlash.

Next Steps

The Jewish fascination with Chinese culture isn’t just a quirky trend—it’s an instinctive recognition of something profound. Two civilizations with deep roots, bound by resilience, brilliance, and beauty. Two communities facing similar social pressures in an age that increasingly distrusts excellence.

If we wait for the Chinese to line up for gefilte fish, we might be waiting a long time. So let’s set the table and, à la Ginsberg & Wong, serve up matzah ball–wonton soup and see if we get any takers.

We can do this. Let’s eat. Let’s talk. Let’s build.