Monastic halls of the Quanzhen lineage brim with simplicity at every meal. Meat and fish never make an appearance, and even humble staples like onions, garlic, leeks, chives and shallots—the so-called “five pungent vegetables”—are strictly off the menu to keep qi clear and undisturbed. Most practitioners stick to a vegan or ovo-lacto diet, favoring grains, beans, tofu, sea vegetables and seasonal greens. Alcohol, strong condiments, coffee and tea tend to be shunned, too, since they’re thought to stir the emotions and cloud meditation.

Fasting unfolds in rhythms tied to the lunar calendar and seasonal shifts. Many Quanzhen monasteries observe light fasts every new and full moon, taking just one simple meal of porridge or steamed vegetables around midday. Major fasts coincide with the Spring and Autumn equinoxes, sometimes stretching over three to nine days in a practice known as “bigu,” or grain avoidance. During these stretches, water and herbal infusions replace solid food, helping the body pivot into a state of heightened energy awareness. A few lineages even observe a rigid winter-solstice fast, mirroring nature’s own deep rest.

Intermittent fasting trends making waves on social media may feel cutting-edge, but Quanzhen traditions have woven similar patterns for centuries. Retreats sometimes feature nine-day absences from all but lightly brewed herbal teas, while daily routines might include skipping breakfast altogether. The idea isn’t simply weight loss—it’s about clearing the mind’s fog, refining internal alchemy and tuning into the Dao. In a world that just embraced Veganuary or the latest “dry January,” Quanzhen ascetics seem ahead of the curve, reminding everyone that intentional eating and rhythmic fasting have long been pathways to both spiritual clarity and physical harmony.