Jiangxi's Largest City: Beyond Spicy Cuisine, What Other Surprises Await?

Jiangxi often seems to have the strongest presence only when competing for "who has the least presence." When it comes to Jiangxi cuisine, only one overwhelming characteristic comes to mind—its intense spiciness.

This understated province has been misunderstood for far too long! To rediscover Jiangxi, I suggest starting your journey in Ganzhou.

The Zhang River and the Gong River converge into the Gan River, which flows through Ganzhou.

This is a historic cultural city, though not the provincial capital. Its very name, "Gan," reveals its origins—the Gan River, Jiangxi's mother river, is formed here by the merging of the Zhang and Gong tributaries. Surging into the Yangtze, it connects the north-south golden waterway, laying the foundation for Jiangxi's prosperity from the Tang to the Qing dynasties. As the hub of this shipping artery, Ganzhou brims with ancient charm that has endured for millennia.

Here’s a lesser-known fact: Ganzhou is the cradle of Hakka culture and remains the largest Hakka settlement in China. Bordering Fujian to the east, Guangdong to the south, and Hunan to the west, this "city linking four provinces" boasts exceptionally rich cultural diversity. Beyond Jiangxi’s spice-loving culinary tradition, it offers many unique flavors not to be missed.

The bold and spicy Gan cuisine also has remarkable depth.

The most understated "Hakka cradle"—how much savory, umami, and spice can one find at its dining tables?

When discussing Hakka culture, people often think of Meizhou in Guangdong or Longyan in Fujian, unaware that Ganzhou was the first stop for Hakka settlers—the true "Hakka cradle."

Historically, the Hakka people were migrants from the Central Plains. From the aristocratic exodus during the Jin dynasties (4th century) to the upheavals of the An Lushan Rebellion in the Tang and the Southern Song’s remnants after the Jingkang Incident, repeated wars drove generations of nobles and commoners southward in search of survival.

Ganzhou’s cuisine carries the history of cultural fusion.

Guarding the gateway to Lingnan, Ganzhou has long been a strategic hub of the Five Ranges and the throat of Fujian-Guangdong. Its rugged terrain offered weary migrants shelter, allowing them to rest and recover. These self-styled "guests" in a foreign land took root in Ganzhou, gradually spreading their influence to eastern Guangdong and western Fujian. Today, 95% of Ganzhou’s population has Hakka roots, and its 39,000 square kilometers are dotted with over 600 Hakka walled villages—earning it the title of a Hakka holy land.

Knowing this history, it’s no surprise that Ganzhou’s local dishes include "Ningdu Three-Cup Chicken"—a dish also celebrated in Taiwan as a Hakka culinary gem. Shared cultural roots yield similar flavors. The name comes from its cooking method: no water, just a cup each of rice wine, soy sauce, and sesame oil. However, Ganzhou locals often replace sesame oil with fragrant lard and skip basil, using just scallions and ginger to perfectly highlight the tenderness of the yellow-feathered chicken.

Ningdu Three-Cup Chicken—a flavor distinct from its Taiwanese counterpart.

Ask locals about its origin, and they’ll tell you it was the last meal of national hero Wen Tianxiang before his martyrdom: "Death comes to all, but my loyalty will illuminate history." Legends carry romance, and the persistence of such tales reflects Wen’s revered status among the Hakka. In the late Southern Song, Wen spent his fortune resisting the Yuan, rallying Hakka men and women from Ganzhou, Fujian, and Guangdong—"men bearing arms, women in armor, eight thousand answering the call." This heroic patriotism remains an indelible hue in Hakka memory.

Meat and carbs—how do they blend north and south?

Perhaps because the Hakka hail from the Central Plains, their cuisine bears traces of "north-south fusion." Ganzhou cooks often marinate ingredients with sweet potato starch, creating thick, sticky sauces—a technique that might warm a northerner’s heart: you truly understand the magic of thickening!

Pickled mustard greens (cu guozi) add a tangy kick when stir-fried with pork intestines.

Dishes like pickled greens with pork intestines, sour bamboo shoots with duck gizzards, and preserved vegetables with bean cakes all feature that luscious starch-thickened sauce. But the pinnacle of sweet potato starch mastery is "Ningdu meatballs."

Ningdu’s meatballs follow a strict ratio: "one pound of meat, three ounces of starch." Too much starch makes them mushy; too little, crumbly. Using fatty front-leg pork, it’s pounded in stone mortars by teams with wooden mallets—like making rice cakes—until minced, mixed with starch, and shaped by skilled hands into springy, savory orbs.

Round meatballs symbolize reunion, making them holiday favorites.

This meatball also has many local variations, such as replacing pork with fish, or adding bitter melon during midsummer to "cool the body" and relieve summer heat—here, one can detect some influence from Guangdong neighbors.

Another dish that can represent Ganzhou is the "Hebaozuo."

It also uses fresh pork—mainly lean meat with some fat—cut into large chunks, mixed with glutinous rice and rice flour, and seasoned with soy sauce, sugar, salt, sweet wine, pepper, peanut oil, MSG, and meat broth. Fresh lotus leaves are softened in boiling water, layered, wrapped around the marinated meat into conical, ingot, or other shapes, then steamed over high heat until tender and over low heat until fully cooked. The resulting Hebaozuo is melt-in-the-mouth tender, not sticky, resembling braised pork or steamed pork with rice flour, but with a unique fragrance of lotus leaves.

The Hakka-style "stuffed" dishes are also common here. Tofu stuffed with minced meat and mushrooms, stuffed green peppers, and even stuffed bitter melon, though homely, require considerable effort.

Silky tofu filled with savory minced meat—perfect with rice!

The Hakka flavors of Ganzhou are most notable for their rich layers. The spiciness is subtle and gentle, sneaking up until your face turns red; the saltiness varies, with pickled vegetables enhancing different styles of umami. Rice wine is often added to dishes, removing gaminess and adding a rice fragrance. This, perhaps, reflects how the Hakka people, after many migrations, eventually blended seamlessly with local ingredients and customs.

People often overlook that Jiangxi is, in fact, an authentic part of Jiangnan (South of the Yangtze).

During the Tang Dynasty, Jiangxi was included in the "Jiangnan Circuit"; from the Song to the Ming Dynasty, "Jiangnan" in literary works often referred to Jiangxi. Culturally, Tang Xianzu, who wrote *The Peony Pavilion*, was from Jiangxi, and the "Yiyang Tune," one of the four major operatic styles of southern drama, also originated here. Jiangxi's character is less delicate than that of the Taihu Plain but matches any region in literary heritage and prosperity. The foundation of all this lies in—

Photo/Tuchong Creative, Photography/Reading Traveler

In the early Zhenyuan era of the Tang Dynasty, the prefect of Qianzhou (today's Ganzhou) opened the Gan River waterway, connecting the Grand Canal-Yangtze-Gan River-Dayu Ridge-Pearl River route, a vital north-south artery. With dense river networks, Jiangxi linked westward to Yunnan and Guizhou via the Xiang River and eastward to Zhejiang and Fujian via the Qiantang and Min Rivers, becoming a golden hub on this north-south waterway. By the Song Dynasty, it reached unprecedented prosperity, supplying the most grain to the capital.

Today, Ganzhou remains China's best-preserved Northern Song city. Walking through it feels like stepping into *Along the River During the Qingming Festival*. It boasts the "First Grotto of Jiangnan"—Tongtianyan, the only surviving Song-era inscribed brick city wall, an ancient pontoon bridge made of 100 wooden boats chained together for nearly 900 years, China's only still-functioning ancient drainage system—the Fushou Ditch, the birthplace of China's Bajing culture—Bajing Tower, and the Yugu Tower where the Southern Song poet Xin Qiji penned his masterpiece *Pusaman: Inscription on the Wall of Zaokou, Jiangxi*.

Yugu Tower, Jiangnan Song City, Bajing Tower, ancient pontoon bridge.

The extensive waterways not only brought historical prosperity but also abundant fresh fish to Ganzhou.

Ganzhou Stir-Fried Fish, one of the "Top Ten Dishes" of Hakka cuisine in southern Jiangxi, features a crispy exterior, tender interior, a hint of vinegar aroma, and a spicy, layered flavor. Fresh grass carp is typically used, with the head and tail removed, cut into chunks, and cooked with ginger, scallions, red peppers, soy sauce, and rice wine. The bones are deep-fried, while the fish pieces are stir-fried, with local rice vinegar added just before serving. Like most Ganzhou dishes, the sauce is thick and rich, masking the spiciness until you're sweating and your mouth is on fire—then you realize how addictive the heat is.

Ganzhou Stir-Fried Fish, the most classic flavor of southern Jiangxi.

Xingguo Steamed Rice Flour Fish, also called "Four Stars Around the Moon," features grass carp steamed with rice flour and served with four side dishes, representing Xingguo County under Ganzhou.

The dish demands fresh ingredients—the most tender grass carp, marinated with ginger, and, of course, the locals' favorite sweet potato starch. The steamer requires elaborate preparation: sweet potato leaves are laid at the bottom, then the seasoned rice noodles are steamed first before adding the marinated fish slices for a second round. Before serving, a sauce of chili paste, soy sauce, and rapeseed oil is poured over the fish, releasing a burst of aroma. The dish is served in the steamer for immediate enjoyment.

The four accompanying side dishes have no fixed rules—usually light and refreshing options like peanuts or cucumber salad, ideal with drinks.

Xingguo Steamed Rice Flour Fish is also called "Fenlongchuang."

Beyond these, Ganzhou offers fish threads, fish cakes, wine-pickled fish, and other delicacies, along with river snails, loaches, and more—enough to satisfy any appetite. These aquatic ingredients, on Hakka stoves, retain a trace of stubbornness in their heritage, requiring complementary pairings, thick sauces, and bold techniques—neither purely southern nor northern, yet both, embodying the Hakka spirit's original homeland.

The land of rice, how many rice noodles and rice cakes has it nurtured?

The prosperity of shipping is just one of the many gifts of the mother river. The rice nourished by the Gan River and its thousands of tributaries is a gentler, richer blessing.

Jiangxi may be one of the earliest regions in China to cultivate wild rice, leading the way in "eating rice" as far back as ten thousand years ago. The delicious rice noodles of Jiangxi are renowned nationwide, and the people of Ganzhou are no less imaginative when it comes to rice-based dishes.

The most homely way to enjoy rice is with rice noodles. A bowl of fragrant, spicy mixed noodles paired with a bowl of meat patty soup is a breakfast staple for Ganzhou locals. Wide and cloth-like Shahe noodles or smooth and delightful "Ganzhou macaroni" each have their own springy texture—whether boiled, stir-fried, or mixed, they all shine in their own way.

The most distinctive Hakka-style rice noodle in Ganzhou is Dayu’s *tangpi*. At first glance, this dish resembles Guangdong’s rice noodle rolls: a thin layer of rice batter is spread evenly on a bamboo tray, sprinkled with scallions and other seasonings, then steamed and peeled off as a neat sheet of rice skin. Every morning in Dayu begins with drowning a large plate of *tangpi* in meat broth. It can also be wrapped around fillings, sliced into strips for boiling, or dried for even more variations—stir-fried in sand or deep-fried until puffy, delivering a crispy, savory joy with every bite.

*Tangpi*—this is not rice noodle rolls, mind you.

Venture into the streets and alleys, and you’ll find a world of *guo* and *ban* snacks. Both "guo" and "ban" are Hakka-style staples, mostly made from rice. With abundant rice and countless ways to cook it, paired with different ingredients, the possibilities are endless.

Huangyuan rice cake (*huangyuan miguo*) is perhaps one of the most famous local snacks, said to have been a tribute item during the Ming Dynasty. The golden *huangyuan miguo* is made from *dahe* rice, prized for its unique stickiness and chewiness. The secret to its vibrant color lies in a natural dye—pagoda tree flowers. Mixed with alkaline water to create a yellow dye, it colors the cooked rice cakes, which are then steamed repeatedly and pounded like New Year’s rice cakes. During festivals, they can be stir-fried or dipped, offering versatile ways to enjoy Ganzhou’s most familiar festive flavor.

Huangyuan rice cake—sticky yet delightfully smooth.

Unlike *huangyuan miguo*, mugwort rice cake (*ai miguo*) is the star around Qingming Festival. Every March, Hakka families make mugwort rice cakes to honor Guanyin Bodhisattva and serve to guests.

Making *ai miguo* involves grinding glutinous rice into a slurry, straining it through a cloth bag to remove excess water. Fresh mugwort leaves, washed and lightly boiled, are kneaded to remove bitterness, then mixed one-to-one with pounded glutinous rice flour. After thorough kneading, the dough is steamed. It can also be shaped into round cakes, stuffed with fresh or cured meat, bamboo shoots, garlic, and other fillings to make mugwort buns, then steamed or fried. For those with a sweet tooth, fillings like sugar, lard, and sesame powder are options—rest assured, Ganzhou folks are tolerant and won’t fight over sweet or savory preferences.

Mugwort rice cake—the taste of Ganzhou’s spring.

Another Hakka staple, ash-water rice cake (*huishui ban*), is also quite distinctive.

The term "ban" is a Hakka and Hainanese word referring to rice-based foods. As for "ash water," it’s made by filtering boiled water through the ashes of *huangban* wood (a type of shrub) or bean stalks, then mixing it with soaked sticky rice. The alkaline ash water is believed to ward off dampness and miasma. In southern Jiangxi, *huishui ban* comes in two colors: yellow (dyed with pagoda tree flowers) or green (mixed with fresh leeks). It can also be used as a wrapper for fillings like pickled vegetables, dried radish, sesame, or peanuts, shaped into clam-like buns. Steamed *huishui ban* can be fried, stir-fried, or dipped in soy sauce with chili or fermented rice chili—another versatile dish.

Ash-water rice cake—delicious even just dipped in chili.

In Ganzhou and nearby regions, there are far more "ban" varieties than just *huishui ban*: *jianban* (fried), *baibanzi* (rice dumplings, often used in soups), *bojiban* (complex, usually stuffed with vegetables and meat), *niangaoban* (sweet), plus glutinous rice *ban*, yellow rice *ban*, *ximao ban*, *luotang ban*, *zhuye ban*, and mugwort *ban*—too many to count even on fingers and toes.

Rather than calling Jiangxi or Ganzhou low-key, it’s more like still waters run deep. The dazzling array of rice aromas and the ceaseless flow of the Gan River have witnessed the Hakka people’s arduous journey to build their homeland and the millennia of prosperity at this vital hub of land and water trade. Through tides of change, only the kitchen’s fragrance lingers eternally on the tongues and in the hearts of Ganzhou’s generations.

How much enduring human warmth lingers in the lanes of Zao’er Alley?

Text | Chen Gongqing, Cat Knight

Image Editor | YIRAN

Cover Image | Another Energetic Day Today

This article is original content from [Di Dao Feng Wu]