China's Most Overlooked Hotpot Paradise: The Undisputed King of Meat Feasts

Hubei, China's top breakfast province. Its hot dry noodles, bean skin, beef noodles, and shaomai are utterly captivating, leaving an indelible mark after just one taste. But this is far from all Hubei has to offer. If you ask a local about their favorite everyday dish, they’ll likely point to the steaming pot on the table—

Guo Zai, also known as "pot dish," "hanging pot," or "hot pot" among Hubei locals. A small alcohol burner heats the pot from below, keeping the contents bubbling and filling the room with aroma. It’s the most indulgent yet commonplace meal in Hubei’s daily dining.

Guo Zai, the cornerstone of a proper Hubei meal.

Anything can go into Guo Zai! This dish encapsulates Hubei’s culinary diversity. In water-rich Jingzhou, turtle stew is a must at wedding banquets, its gelatinous edges tender and sticky after slow cooking. In Wuhan, where late-night eats are a way of life, chicken feet pots, fish maw and roe pots, and "pig’s knee bone" pots reign as street food legends. In Shiyan’s Fang County, winter is incomplete without cured pork knuckle and lotus root stew—a flavor born of mountain winds, irreplaceable.

Guo Zai anytime, anywhere! No occasion is off-limits—home cooking, restaurant outings, formal meals, midnight snacks, even morning drinks. A single pot is the baseline; three or five pots sharing the table is common. During festivals, Guo Zai might dominate the entire spread.

As guests gather, a stainless steel stove arrives before the dishes. When the pot appears, someone unpacks the solid alcohol while another lights the flame—a wordless ritual that kicks off the feast.

To Hubei people, Guo Zai tastes like home.

The dish that captivates 50 million.

For Hubei locals, no meal is complete without a pot.

Here, "pot" means Guo Zai—sometimes one isn’t enough. At grand banquets, rows of pots simmer on heated stoves. These soup-bowl-sized stainless steel vessels, though humble, are essential for everything from family gatherings to weddings and funerals—their misty presence signifies a proper feast.

While central to Hubei dining, Guo Zai is flexible in preparation and ingredients. The pot remains constant, but its contents vary freely—beef, fish, lamb, pork, or mixes thereof. No dipping sauces, no fixed spice levels—just pure culinary spontaneity.

This improvisation reflects Hubei’s bold character and the region’s agricultural abundance. The Jianghan Plain, long hailed as a "land of fish and rice," inspires dishes like the iconic Three Delicacies Guo Zai: fish cakes and balls so smooth they dissolve on the tongue, paired with egg dumplings, bamboo shoots, and cabbage. A sip of the broth evokes childhood memories of New Year feasts.

As the star of the table, Guo Zai often features local meats—beef, lamb, pork, or chicken. Clear-braised lamb soup, spicy beef with carrots, braised pork knuckles... These meat-centric pots are essentially hearty dishes kept perpetually warm. Hubei’s signature "pile head" presentation—mountains of unpretentiously chopped meat—sets it apart from other hot pots: no fancy plating, just honest, satisfying indulgence.

Hubei Guo Zai—overflowing with meat.

Gong’an beef pot, Huanggang hanging pot, Jiayu wild lotus root pot...

Hubei boasts 10,000 delicious Guo Zai variations!

Three meals a day, four seasons a year—why do Hubei people crave Guo Zai endlessly?

Its origins may lie in climate. Hubei’s long, damp winters make indoors colder than outside—food cools within minutes after cooking. A heated pot solves this. In summer’s swelter, sweating over hot broth aligns with traditional Chinese dietary wisdom.

Hubei’s Guo Zai universe is endlessly inventive—365 days, 365 variations. It’s a culinary cosmos where you’ll never taste it all.

For the ultimate Guo Zai showdown, Huanggang takes the crown with its "hanging pot." A large cauldron dangles from an iron hook over charcoal, brimming with foraged treasures, as diners squat on low stools to fish out delights.

Huanggang, located in the foothills of the Dabie Mountains, boasts a hanging pot that can hold almost all the delicacies from its lush forests: chicken, duck, cured meat, pork trotters, fish balls, meat cakes, winter bamboo shoots, mushrooms... Under the charcoal fire, mushrooms absorb the rich fat of pork trotters, while cured meat takes on the sweetness of bamboo shoots. The ingredients blend harmoniously. If stir-fried separately, it would take a whole table of dishes to gather them all, but a single hanging pot brings them together perfectly.

Photo/Tuchong Creative

Living off the mountains and waters. Huanggang has mountains, so its hanging pots feature wild mountain delicacies. In contrast, Xianning Jiayu, blessed with the Yangtze River and abundant lakes, specializes in aquatic dishes.

Jiayu is famous for its wild lotus roots, which are slimmer and more fibrous than cultivated ones. They’re too coarse for stir-frying but perfect for stewing. Hubei people already consider spare rib and lotus root soup a traditional staple. In Jiayu, the dish is simplified: spare ribs are replaced with local pork spine bones, and cultivated lotus roots with wild ones. No other ingredients are added, making it far plainer than Luotian or Macheng’s hanging pots—but the charm lies in the pure, natural aroma of meat and lotus root.

A Small Pot of Stewed Offal, Warmth in the Hustle and Bustle

The charm of hanging pots belongs to rustic nature. When the mini hot pot appears in cities like Wuhan, the style shifts to urban flair. Wuhan’s mini hot pots are free-spirited, with endless themes, but beef and offal pots remain the crowd favorite. This is likely because Wuhan is a port city where many laborers once worked, preferring bold, oily, and flavorful dishes to replenish salt lost through sweat and stimulate the appetite.

A pot of beef and offal, rich in color and flavor, is satisfying, indulgent, and filling—yet affordable, making it a popular choice. Large chunks of braised beef, tendon, and offal simmer into a red broth, infused with soy sauce and spices. Underneath lie radishes and tofu skin, absorbing the savory broth. The aroma of spices whets the appetite instantly.

Folding tables, plastic stools, and a steaming pot—neighbors chat while eating, finding solace in the simple pleasures of life.

Hearty Meat Feasts, the Bold Spirit of a Three Kingdoms City

Gong’an County, straddling the Hunan-Hubei border, blends culinary styles from both provinces. Its spicy beef hot pot has taken Hubei by storm.

The broth, made from beef bone stock and beef fat, includes a special "Jingsha sauce," a local fermented bean paste from Jingzhou. Sun-dried for half a month in midsummer, it adds a deep red hue and subtle umami without overpowering the soup. Local green onions enhance the beef’s natural sweetness.

"Songzi people are hospitable—chairs offered upon arrival, tea and cigarettes served, and a chicken slaughtered for the meal." This folk rhyme refers to the famed Songzi chicken.

Unlike most Hubei hot pots, which are slow-cooked, Songzi chicken tests a chef’s quick-cooking skills. Diners pick a live chicken, which is then freshly slaughtered and stir-fried with lard and spices. Jingzhou bean paste and beer are added, simmering into a golden stew served in minutes.

Songzi chicken, freshly prepared, is incredibly tender.

Freshly slaughtered Songzi chicken is supremely tender, with no gamey taste. Even the feet and offal are used, but the best part is the thigh—golden skin clinging to juicy meat, offering a rich, textured bite.

In Enshi, western Hubei, famed for its cured meats, the star of the hot pot is "Tujia abalone"—smoked pork.

Enshi lies among high mountains, some reaching 3,000 meters, shrouded in mist year-round. Unlike other Hubei regions that rely on winter sun and wind for curing, the Tujia people actively smoke their meats. Pork and trotters hang over smoldering pine and cypress branches, infusing them with woody aroma.

Hubei’s cured meats and sausages also make great hot pots.

With the fire already lit, a pot is hung to stew the smoked pork. Enshi’s abundant small potatoes give rise to the most popular dish: smoked pork and potato hot pot. The recipe is simple—sliced pork stir-fried until oily, boiled into a milky broth, then simmered with potatoes, salt, chili, and spices. It’s savory with a Sichuanese kick.

When the pork and potatoes are nearly gone, add local dried bamboo shoots, wild mushrooms, radishes, or tofu. The pine-smoked aroma is the finishing touch.

The Tujia-style hanging pot, a specialty of Enshi.

In Hubei's hot pot world, there are too many styles. Even in home cooking, today's method might change by tomorrow—such spontaneity perhaps reflects the inherent openness of a "thoroughfare to nine provinces."

Whether sunny or rainy, winter or summer, Hubei people's hot pots are always bubbling merrily. Friends and family gather around the pot, eating amid laughter, swallowing steaming ingredients through the mist, their foreheads beading with sweat from the fire and broth, cheeks flushed from the heat.

By the meal's end, even if chopsticks have stopped, the flames beneath the pot still flicker as people chat idly—a happiness unique to Hubei people.

The hot pot, a constant in the days and nights of Hubei people.

Author | February Eighth

Cover image | Director Liao