On May 30, 2023, Elon Musk landed in Beijing for his first trip to China in three years. Over the next couple of days he would meet the foreign minister, the commerce minister and the minister of industry, then fly to Shanghai and tour his Gigafactory close to midnight. Big week.
But the thing Chinese social media couldn't stop talking about wasn't any of those meetings. It was a dinner menu.
A photo started circulating online of what was said to be the menu from his first night in Beijing, reportedly a private dinner at 缦府宴 (Mànfǔ Yàn), a restaurant inside the exclusive Beijing club 华府会 (Huáfǔ Huì), with CATL chairman 曾毓群 (Zēng Yùqún) at the table. Neither Tesla nor CATL ever confirmed it, so treat the details as "reported," not official. Even so, Chinese readers took one look and laughed, because the message was hiding in plain sight. You just had to know Musk's Chinese name.
In Chinese, Elon Musk is 马斯克 (Mǎsīkè). It's a phonetic transliteration, nothing fancy. But that first character, 马 (mǎ), is also the everyday word for "horse," and it's one of the most symbolically loaded animals in Chinese culture: speed, strength, success, momentum.
Whoever designed this menu clearly knew it. According to Chinese media reports, the cover showed two ink-painted horses, the word TESLA, the English word "Extraordinary," and a four-character idiom: 一马当先 (yì mǎ dāng xiān). Literally, "one horse charging out in front." Figuratively, "to take the lead and blaze the trail." For the head of the company that dragged the world's carmakers into the electric era, it's a pretty flattering pick.
And it didn't stop at the cover. An inside page reportedly explained the meaning of 马 in both Chinese and English, played with the letter E for "Elon" and "electric," and wished Tesla success on its electric journey with the line 以梦为马，横行万里 (yǐ mèng wéi mǎ, héng xíng wàn lǐ), "take your dream as your horse and gallop ten thousand miles."
Chinese netizens and reporters had a field day with it. One financial outlet described the menu as having an extremely high 含马量 (hán mǎ liàng), "horse content." That's a pun on 含金量 (hán jīn liàng), "gold content," the everyday word for how much real value something has. Swap gold for horse and you get a joke every Chinese reader instantly gets: this menu is basically 90% horse.
The dish list itself was reportedly 16 courses across seven categories: cold starters, soup, seafood, meat, seasonal vegetables, a staple and dessert. Only a handful of dish names leaked, including a celery and sakura shrimp dish named after 马家沟 (Mǎjiāgōu), a place famous for its celery. Yes, even the vegetables got a horse in. Another was an American geoduck braised with old-jar pickled cabbage, a nice little nod to the American guest served in a very Chinese way. The staple was humble Beijing 炸酱面 (zhájiàngmiàn), noodles with fermented bean sauce.
That line 以梦为马 is not a random greeting card phrase. It's the title of a well-known 1987 poem by 海子 (Hǎizǐ), one of China's most beloved modern poets, and it's quoted constantly in graduation speeches and inspirational posts. So the menu wasn't just punning on a surname. It was borrowing from a poem that most educated Chinese readers know by heart.
Here's the fun nuance only a native speaker would catch. 横行 (héng xíng), "to stride across freely," is a slightly double-edged word. In 横行万里 it sounds heroic. But in the very common idiom 横行霸道 (héng xíng bà dào), it means to bully and throw your weight around. Whether that was a deliberate wink at a famously disruptive billionaire, or just poetic flourish, I'll let you decide. I know which way the comment sections leaned.
If you've done business in China, you've probably eaten your way through a banquet without realizing the menu was talking to you. Chinese hospitality has a long tradition of 寓意 (yùyì), meanings embedded in names. Wedding banquets are full of dishes named for happiness, abundance and many children. Business dinners lean on prosperity, smooth sailing and long-term cooperation. Homophones do a lot of heavy lifting: fish, 鱼 (yú), sounds like surplus, 余 (yú), so it shows up at the end of the meal to wish you abundance year after year.
A personalized menu like Musk's takes that one step further. It tells the guest: we studied you. We know your name, we know your company, we thought about what you'd want to hear. That's 面子 (miànzi), face, being given in a very elegant way, and it's the opening move in a relationship, not a decoration.
Most Western executives won't get a two-horse ink painting with their name on it. But you may well get a menu or a set of dishes chosen with meaning in mind. Here's how I coach clients to handle it.
Notice it. If the menu is printed, look at it. If there's a theme, ask your host or interpreter what a dish name means. Asking is a compliment, it shows you appreciate the effort.
Say something about it. A short toast that mentions the meaning ("I'm told this dish wishes us smooth cooperation, so let's make sure it comes true") lands far better than a generic thank-you.
Know your own Chinese name. Musk's menu only worked because 马 carries meaning. If you or your company has a Chinese name, find out what each character suggests. Your hosts certainly will.
One reported menu, never officially confirmed, became a national talking point because it was a perfect little piece of Chinese communication: indirect, clever, flattering and full of layers. Next time you sit down at a banquet in China, read the menu like a letter. Someone may have written it just for you.
If you're preparing for high-stakes meetings or banquets in China and want to understand what's really being said around the table, that's exactly what I help with. Details are on the Work With Me page.