In Edible Pen Jing (2000), Song imitates traditional Chinese paintings with gluttonous delicacies on trays that allude to Pen Jing, miniature sceneries composed of natural elements. Piling up stacks of raw salmon, braised chicken thighs, steamed fish heads, and seasoned minced beef that mimic mountainous landscapes, Song plays with ironies through both the insertion and ingestion of food. The meaty terrains subvert the virtues of self-cultivation and refined taste manifested in ancient landscape paintings and Pen Jing. The colophons on the top—calligraphic inscriptions that display prestigious authorship or ownership—wittily transform into written recipes in clumsy brushstrokes charged with a satirical, whimsical tone. What celebrated visual revelation in China now engages with corporeal consumption within a global context. What displayed ostentatious refinement now captures a scene of mundane civil life. Where the crowds expected philosophical meanings in the colophon, Song offered straightaway recipes. Where they waited for profound, pretentious visual veneration, Song asked for simple, direct physical demolition. Song’s incorporation of commonly used Western ingredients such as roasted chicken thighs, broccoli, mincemeat, and salmon into a Chinese artistic composition conflates distinct cultures, especially in the gastronomic traditions. Upon eating the Pen Jing, the visitors from around the globe connect through a shared identity—human beings induced by a universal appetite. Together, these Pen Jing evoke as many ironies as curiosities in the audience through manipulating the familiar. Feeling stuffed and satisfied yet bewildered, the participants leave as they ponder: did we eat art or food?