What to Eat in Beijing

Beijing sits on the North China Plain with cold, dry winters and hot, humid summers, a climate that favors wheat over rice. Noodles, steamed buns, and pancakes anchor daily meals, often paired with hearty braises and roasts. Lamb and mutton reflect long ties with steppe foodways and northern pastoralism.

Local eating rhythms still follow the season: warming pots and offal stews in winter, cool noodles and crisp vegetables in summer. Robust flavors—garlic, vinegar, fermented soybean pastes, and sesame—shape the northern palate. Breakfast streets and family-style dinners in hutongs keep traditions visible and alive.

Beijing roast duck begins with a duck inflated between skin and flesh, then scalded, maltose-glazed, and air-dried to ensure lacquered, crackling skin. It is roasted in a high-heat oven, traditionally fueled by hardwood, until the skin turns mahogany and the meat renders to supple tenderness. At the table, slices of crisp skin and meat are wrapped in thin wheat pancakes (chun bing) with scallions, cucumber, and sweet bean sauce (tianmianjiang) for a balanced bite of fat, crunch, and aromatics. Rooted in imperial kitchens since the Ming dynasty, it remains a celebratory centerpiece for banquets, marking family milestones and festive gatherings; many households also simmer the carcass into a light cabbage soup to finish the meal.

Zhajiangmian centers on hand-pulled or knife-cut wheat noodles topped with a sauce fried from fermented yellow soybean paste (huangjiang) and diced or minced pork. The paste is gently sautéed with aromatics and a splash of stock to achieve a glossy, intensely savory coating that clings to the noodles. Crisp, fresh toppings—julienned cucumber, blanched soybean sprouts, radish, and sometimes edamame or chives—add crunch and temperature contrast to the warm, chewy strands. A staple of northern home cooking with countless family ratios of paste-to-pork, it is a common lunch or quick dinner in Beijing, with lighter garnishes in summer and heartier sides in winter, reflecting how locals balance fermentation-driven depth with seasonal produce.

Shuan yangrou, “instant-boiled mutton,” features paper-thin slices of lamb swished for seconds in a bubbling copper hotpot with a chimney, usually filled with light stock scented by scallion and ginger. The meat cooks almost instantly, staying tender and clean-tasting, then meets a sesame-paste dipping sauce adjusted at the table with leek-flower sauce, vinegar, soy, garlic, fermented tofu, and chili oil. Diners add tofu, napa cabbage, spinach, mushrooms, frozen tofu, and wide mung-bean vermicelli, creating a broth that becomes richer as the meal progresses. With roots in courtly and northern steppe traditions and widespread since late Qing times, it is a social winter staple in Beijing, eaten at unhurried evening gatherings where the dry cold outdoors makes the aromatic steam particularly welcome.

Douzhi is a fermented mung-bean drink made from the liquid left after extracting starch for bean-thread noodles; it is simmered and served warm, slightly sour, and distinctly beany. The traditional partner is jiaoquan, a torus-shaped ring of wheat dough deep-fried until blistered and airy, offering a savory crunch to balance the tang. Small portions of pickled vegetables provide salt and brightness, and some diners chase the flavors with a bite of crisp radish for contrast. An emblem of hutong breakfasts and an acquired taste for many, douzhi reflects Beijing’s thrifty, fermentation-forward habits; it is most commonly taken in the morning year-round, with older generations especially loyal to its ritual and restorative reputation.

Lu zhu huo shao is a soy-braised stew of pork offal—typically intestine, lung, and blood curd—simmered in a seasoned master stock with soy sauce, aromatics, and warm spices such as star anise and cassia. Slices of baked wheat bread (huo shao) soak in the broth, along with tofu puffs or bean curd sheets, creating layers of tender chew and gelatin-rich depth. At serving, a spoon of garlic paste, a dash of vinegar, cilantro, and chili oil sharpen the rich, slightly sweet-savory broth. Emerging as a working-class snack in the late Qing era, it remains a beloved hutong classic best enjoyed on cool afternoons or chilly evenings, when the hearty textures and perfumed steam feel both economical and deeply comforting.

Beijing cuisine stands apart for its wheat backbone, fermentation-driven condiments, and a spectrum that runs from precise roasting to communal hotpots and offal cookery. Cold, dry winters nurture rich, warming dishes; short, humid summers favor crisp vegetables and quick noodles. Keep exploring regional food culture and climate-ready travel ideas on Sunheron.com.