The mountains of Shandong are etched into the province's very name. Hills and mountainous areas account for over 30% of Shandong's land.
Mount Tai, revered as the "Foremost of the Five Sacred Mountains," stands majestically in central Shandong, embodying the towering spirit of its people. The central Shandong mountainous region, spanning six prefecture-level cities, can be considered its extensions. The savory pot, a culinary masterpiece of Zibo, gathers Shandong's finest produce; while in Tai'an at the foot of Mount Tai, a humble pot of cabbage and tofu soup proudly takes center stage at the New Year's feast...
The rich and complex flavors of Braised Intestines make it a signature dish of Shandong's New Year celebrations.
On the Shandong Peninsula, surrounded by sea on three sides, hills and ocean intertwine. From paper-thin-skinned buns and steamed buns larger than faces to palm-sized wild-caught shrimp and fierce swimming crabs from the Bohai Bay—this fusion of land and sea reflects the inclusive New Year flavors of Shandong.
"High in the center, low on the sides" defines Shandong's basic topography.
As early as the late Qing Dynasty, Shandong cuisine traveled along the Grand Canal to Beijing. Dishes like Braised Intestines and Sea Cucumber with Scallions once delighted the palates of the elite and have since become beloved staples in ordinary households, embodying an accessible New Year tradition. On this third day of the Lunar New Year, let's explore just how lavish a Shandong New Year's feast can be.
For central Shandong, the New Year's feast is a tribute to the mountain's bounty.
In ancient times, when travel was arduous, mountains were often seen as symbols of wilderness and isolation. Yet, Shandong's fertile highlands have generously provided for generations. Cities like Zibo and Tai'an, nestled like jewels along the mountain ranges, thrive not just by consuming its resources but by honoring its spirit.
The Yishan black goat banquet in Linqu isn't complete without its nourishing goat soup.
Photo / Yellow River Delta Morning Post - Dongying Foodie Group
Zibo's scattered charm pieces together Shandong's New Year flavors.
Zibo is a "scattered" city, much like Foshan. Among its five districts and three counties, Linzi, Zichuan, and Huantai are ancient counties steeped in history.
With Mount Lu to the south and the Yellow River flowing north, Zibo's waterways connect directly to the Bohai Sea. Here, the bounty of mountains and seas converges—a fact praised in the "Records of the Grand Historian" as "Qi, girded by mountains and sea, with fertile lands stretching a thousand miles."
During the New Year, the savory pot is a must on Zibo's dining tables. Originally called "crispy fish pot," inventive locals have since enriched it with diverse ingredients.
From Laiwu black pork and Jiaodong cabbage to Weishan Lake's seven-hole lotus root and Bohai Bay mackerel tails—it's a microcosm of Shandong's culinary landscape in a single pot.
In Zibo's stew pots, tender cabbage is so juicy it eliminates the need for added water.
Apart from the essential fish, the ingredients for making suguo (a traditional stew) vary from household to household. The richness can be adjusted to one's preference, but the deliciousness remains equally satisfying.
Layer the ingredients in a clay pot. Finally, surround the pot with thick cabbage stems to prevent burning. The natural sweetness of the cabbage provides enough moisture, eliminating the need to add water. Then, patience is key—simmer the pot over low heat for at least half a day. The flavors of land and sea meld together in the bubbling broth until every ingredient becomes tender enough to dissolve, even the fish bones.
But it’s not over yet—authentic suguo is meant to be eaten cold. The concentrated broth, now gelatinized, melts instantly on the tongue. This is Shandong’s version of "Buddha Jumps Over the Wall," a rich New Year’s dish encapsulating the essence of mountains and seas.
Since tenderness is the highlight, suguo naturally includes fried tofu and other crispy yet melt-in-your-mouth fried items. Across China, preparing fried dishes for the New Year is a common tradition. Fried dough twists, sesame leaves, crispy pork—these dishes traverse the vast northern regions, from Shandong to Gansu, always gracing the New Year’s Eve dinner table. The sizzling oil symbolizes a prosperous and lively year ahead.
"On the 29th, fry for prosperity"—the sound of the oil means the New Year is near.
Cherry meat is the crown jewel of Boshan’s fried dishes. Meat dishes named after "cherry" are not uncommon in Chinese cuisine—for example, Suzhou’s cherry meat is a sweet, red-braised pork belly. But in Boshan, cherry meat is purely a fried delight.
Lean tenderloin is diced, marinated lightly in soy sauce, and fried without batter. The meat shrinks in the hot oil, becoming firm and round, resembling plump "little cherries." A sprinkle of freshly roasted Sichuan pepper powder enhances the pure, rich meaty flavor.
As a northern province, Shandong’s New Year’s feast is never complete without carbs. If one dish best represents Shandong, the top choice would undoubtedly be—jianbing (savory pancakes).
Made from coarse grains, jianbing helped the people of central Shandong survive tough times, becoming a beloved hometown staple. The literary giant Pu Songling even penned a famous "Ode to Jianbing" to promote his hometown: "The rustic folk here emulate Confucius dipping sauce." With one hand holding sauce and the other rolling a pancake, even the stoic image of Confucius in textbooks comes to life.
"Jianbing wraps everything"—this is the cosmic philosophy of Shandong people.
Using sesame cakes as gift boxes is a unique Zhoucun tradition. Unlike the typical Shandong-style thick sesame cakes, Zhoucun’s version is paper-thin, almost translucent. If dropped, it shatters like porcelain.
"Purity and simplicity" is the culinary philosophy of Tai’an’s New Year’s feast.
Mount Tai, towering at 1,532 meters, is Shandong’s highest peak. Since ancient times, revered as the "Foremost of the Five Sacred Mountains," it has drawn countless emperors to pay homage. This deep history enriches Tai’an’s New Year’s dinner with cultural significance.
Tai’an tofu is hailed as "divine tofu."
The "Tai Shan Medicinal Records" note: "Cabbage grows widely in Qilu, but the largest comes from Daiyue Town, hence the name 'Daisong.'" Tai’an cabbage thrives on the sunny slopes of Mount Tai, basking in high-altitude sunlight, its leaves a mix of green and yellow. Peeling back the layers reveals a golden core, reminiscent of dawn breaking over the mountain’s summit.
As the saying goes: "Tai’an’s three treasures—cabbage, tofu, and water." The perfect union of these is a simple cabbage and tofu soup. This was also the standard meal for emperors performing rituals on Mount Tai—a truly "imperial-grade" experience.
Before the cabbage and tofu take center stage, a broth is prepared with spring water from Mount Tai and free-range chicken. When the "three treasures" are added and sautéed, the broth turns creamy white. Like the refined "Boiled Cabbage" in state banquets, simplicity is the essence of cooking. This humble dish often outshines traditional "heavy hitters" like braised pork or carp, securing its place as the star of Tai’an’s New Year’s feast.
The rich New Year traditions of central Shandong’s mountains cannot be fully captured in words. Laiwu’s black pork sausages, Zhangqiu’s Huang family roast meat, Weifang’s chicken and duck noodle soup, Linyi’s Junan donkey meat—these are all generous gifts from the mountains to the hardworking people of Shandong.
The lamb soup at the open-air market is a celebration of rustic boldness.
In the coastal Jiaodong region, a carb "bomb" is dropped.
The Shandong Peninsula, surrounded by the sea on three sides, is predominantly covered by the Jiaodong Hills. Qingdao, Yantai, and Weihai are not only well-known coastal vacation spots for Shandong locals but also cities perched atop hills. Due to the poor soil unsuitable for farming, wheat flour became the "white moonlight" of Jiaodong fishing families—the most luxurious item on their New Year's Eve dinner table. As for fresh seafood? Jiaodong people are already tired of eating it year-round! So, they reluctantly let it grace the table as a side dish.
Carbs are the favorite of Jiaodong fishing families.
"Bobo" is essentially the same as the steamed buns found everywhere in northern China. But in Shandong, known for its "hulk-like" stature, it must be prefixed with a "big" to reflect the locals' boldness. Jiaodong's "Big Bobo" is at least two sizes larger than ordinary steamed buns—basketball-sized is just a small case.
This bun, bigger than a washbasin, was brought into the spotlight by Huang Bo.
Once accustomed to Jiaodong's Big Bobo, ordinary steamed buns from elsewhere seem lackluster and "not chewy enough." The secret to making the buns "chewy" lies in continuously kneading dry flour into the dough—a technique called "qiangmian," which enhances their elasticity and toughness.
If ordinary Big Bobo is just a staple food, then the elevated "Hua Bobo" (decorative buns) are an art form far beyond daily life. Jiaodong women showcase cake-frosting-like precision, carving dragons and phoenixes into the dough to express their hopes for the new year. Just as the Year of the Tiger fades, lively rabbit-shaped buns eagerly await the arrival of the new year.
When Hua Bobo appears, the New Year spirit arrives for Shandong people.
Photo/MrWang, provided by Tuchong Creativity.
For another carb staple—baozi (stuffed buns)—Jiaodong families display their frugal side. The larger the bun's radius, the less dough is used—a "simple geometry" every Jiaodong chef masters. Jiaodong's big baozi are often huge with extremely thin wrappers, aiming to encase the maximum filling with the least dough.
In the past, fishing villages relied solely on fishing, with little fat in their diets year-round. Only during the New Year would they splurge on pork. A ratio of 70% fat to 30% lean meat is considered ideal by Jiaodong standards. Under the grease's influence, the thin wrapper becomes translucent, teasingly revealing the filling inside.
Take a bite carefully—not just because the scalding oil might burn your tongue, but also because Jiaodong has a unique "rib-stuffed bun" with whole pork ribs inside. One careless bite could risk a broken tooth.
Versatile cabbage is the best supporting actor for New Year's Eve dinner.
Jiaodong cabbage, known as "Jiaocai," was described by Lu Xun as "tied with red string at the root and hung upside down in fruit shops" in the south. The sandy soil of Jiaodong's hills and the Jiao River's water nurture this unique yellow-heart cabbage variety, a nationally certified geographical indication product.
Yantai fishermen pair cabbage with Bohai Bay's wild-caught prawns. Freshly caught prawns are incomparable to frozen ones with mushy texture and lost flavor—their natural sweetness requires no extra cooking. A simple stew turns the broth red from the prawn heads, while the cabbage absorbs the seafood's essence, adding a touch of mountain-like warmth to the dish.
Stewed cabbage must be cooked with fatty meat for maximum satisfaction.
At rural markets, cabbage takes on a fisherman's boldness. Giant washbasins hold stewed cabbage with translucent leaves, aided by vermicelli and pork belly. Served in overflowing sea bowls alongside steaming-hot buns, it’s a feast.
"Eat hearty, live hearty!" A full stomach naturally fuels a spirit to conquer mountains and seas.
From mountains to plains: Shandong's chicken-eating map.
In the plains of northwestern and southern Shandong surrounded by mountains, the New Year atmosphere is equally vibrant for locals.
Chicken, homophonous with "luck" in Chinese, is an indispensable guest on Shandong's New Year's Eve dinner table. As a renowned agricultural and livestock province, Shandong accounts for over 40% of China's chicken production. On this beloved topic of eating chicken for the New Year, every corner of Shandong has its own claim to fame.
Take Dezhou braised chicken, for instance—its crispy, fall-off-the-bone tenderness has traveled far and wide with the whistle of trains, becoming the go-to memory of hometown flavors for returning wanderers after the holidays.
Jining, which recently gained attention thanks to "The Wandering Earth," must also carve its name into Shandong's chicken cuisine map. Liangshan County in Jining is the stronghold of the "Water Margin" heroes. Legend has it that Shi Qian, the "Flea on a Drum," stole a rooster from the Zhu Family Village and stewed it in a pig's stomach, creating the now-iconic Shi Qian stewed chicken—a dish that might share an obscure lineage with the nationally popular Cantonese pig stomach chicken.
Zaozhuang spicy chicken, from southern Shandong, represents another school of Shandong chicken cuisine. Its soul lies in the chilies and the chicken, but not in stir-frying—because it’s actually stewed! This is a secret only locals truly grasp, rarely shared with outsiders. The chopped chicken is first stir-fried over high heat until the bones seem to crackle like firecrackers, then slowly stewed with water until the rich sauce permeates every fiber of the meat.
Wait—after all this talk, where are the chilies? Patience. Stewing chicken is a test of meticulous care, and the chilies only take center stage during the final reduction. These must be Zaozhuang’s local thin-skinned peppers, a flavor unique to the region. Even if the same seeds are planted elsewhere, they won’t replicate Zaozhuang’s signature spicy freshness.
The land of Qilu is abundant in delicacies: Dongying’s Yellow River estuary crabs rivaling those of Hongze Lake, Binzhou’s "universal wrap" pot pancakes, Liaocheng’s medicinal-scented Wei-smoked chicken, Rizhao’s "nothing fresher than sea sand noodles"... (Where’s Heze? Because Heze’s New Year’s Eve tradition is simple—usually just dumplings!) These are all emblems of Shandong’s grand and bold New Year flavors.
No wonder becoming a civil servant in the province is seen by parents as the ultimate destiny in the "Shandong universe." After all, beyond Shandong’s mountains and seas, where else can one find such rich hometown nostalgia for the New Year?