China's Wildest BBQ Province: Whole Pigs, Mushrooms, Even Insects—Nothing's Off the Grill!

Among the various Chinese cooking methods, barbecue is undoubtedly the most rugged and bold. Therefore, when it comes to delicious barbecue, people often think first of Xinjiang, where lamb skewers sizzle with oil, or the Northeast, where everyone is a skewer artist, or even Zibo, which once gained nationwide fame for its barbecue... In short, barbecue seems to have a natural affinity with northerners.

However, in the southwestern frontier of China, Yunnan is absolutely an "overlooked barbecue province"—this warm and vibrant province is renowned for its incredibly fresh mushrooms, diverse spices, and smooth rice noodles. But anyone who has explored it deeply knows that barbecue occupies a significant and lofty position in the locals' extensive culinary repertoire.

Across Yunnan, from Kunming to its prefectures, every city has its own barbecue, each with unique characteristics. The abundance of ingredients, the bold and ingenious grilling methods, and the dazzling array of dipping sauces never fail to astonish first-time tasters.

More importantly, in Yunnan, barbecue is not just food—it’s a natural way of life, a relaxed and joyful atmosphere. From a fire pit in a village hut to massive, almost surreal open-air barbecue cities and villages, the smoke and charred aroma of barbecue form the most intense and delightful part of this colorful province’s vibrant flavors.

Fire, the primal and scorching impact

If cooking is the art of the interaction between flame and food, then barbecue is undoubtedly the most primitive and sincere moment of their relationship. Thousands of years ago, our cave-dwelling ancestors simply brought fire and food close together, and deliciousness was effortlessly achieved—simple, direct, and utterly unpretentious.

Today, most barbecue restaurants use professional yet industrial equipment. While the flavors remain enticing, the primal charm of "being with fire" has long been lost. What makes Yunnan barbecue most precious is that, even now, the element of "fire" retains a powerful presence.

Perhaps it’s because of the drastic temperature differences on the plateau, where people need to warm themselves by the fire as soon as the sun sets. Or maybe it’s due to the customs of the ethnic minorities who have lived here for centuries. Even today, Yunnan people still love lighting fires in their daily lives. Especially in ethnic villages, the fire pit is the heart of a home. Some Wa people still fetch new fire from sacred sites every year, and this fire burns continuously in their homes for the next year. Around this fire, people cook, warm themselves, gather to drink, sing, and dance... And barbecue happens as naturally as breathing.

In Yunnan, you often hear the term "fire-roasted" (huo shao). Unlike the "huo shao" in Hebei, here it means exactly what it says: a piece of meat, a pig spleen, liver, or kidney is clamped with a grate and roasted over flames, or even buried directly in the embers to smolder. No marination or oil is needed—just let the fire cook it. Scrape off the ash, slice it, and it’s ready to eat. The result is meat with perfect texture: the fat melts into the fire, the lean remains juicy and springy, and the smoky aroma from the wood is incomparable to pan-cooked meat.

In southwestern Yunnan, fire-roasted meat can appear in any setting. Spot a piece of meat in a restaurant fridge, and the owner can fire-roast it for you on the spot, then slice and serve it. Around Tengchong, fire-roasted meat rice noodles are especially popular: charred slices of fire-roasted meat, tomatoes, and chilies burned to a pulp, chopped together, and poured over a bowl of smooth, rich rice noodles. The taste—a mix of sour, spicy, and smoky flavors, layered with the meat’s char and the broth’s depth—stands out even among Yunnan’s dazzling array of rice noodle dishes.

The pinnacle of fire-roasting is roasting a whole pig. In Baoshan, a whole pig is placed in a special earthen kiln or propped up with straw and firewood before being set ablaze. The pig, free-range and fed only grass and corn, is roasted until about 60-70% done. After washing off the blackened surface, the aroma of straw and pine cones fills the air. The skin turns golden and crisp, while the meat stays tender and succulent.

The whole pig is then chopped into countless slices of fire-roasted meat. You can eat it plain or with dips, but locals prefer it as "cold-tossed fire-roasted meat"—mixed with pickled vegetables, shredded potatoes, radish, lettuce, bean sprouts, and other sweet-and-sour condiments. This refreshing dish is a far cry from the greasy stereotype of barbecue.

In fact, in Yunnan, almost any ingredient can interact intimately with fire. For example, Jianshui and Shiping counties are famous for their tofu, especially the iconic "bursting" tofu. Around wells and tofu workshops, countless grilled tofu shops thrive. Each shop has large table stoves where people—alone or in groups—sit leisurely by the fire, grilling and eating tofu. An auntie usually tends the tofu, counting beans to tally each piece eaten. Conversations flow, and if the mood strikes, diners might order skewers, grilled squash, or a bowl of rice noodles. But most just sit quietly, savoring the warmth of the coals and the smoky tofu, letting time slip by.

Interestingly, even in urbanized areas where electric heaters have replaced fire pits for warmth, Yunnan people still grill erkuai (rice cakes), rushan (milk fan), tofu, or sweet potatoes on their heaters. Some shopping malls even sell heaters with built-in grills—proof that, for Yunnanese, warmth and barbecue are inseparable.

Yunnan barbecue—far more than just ruggedness

In Mojiang County, Puer, there’s an "Asia’s largest barbecue city" with over 100 barbecue stalls—a spectacular sight. Its scale stems from its connection to a massive market: customers buy meat and vegetables there, then pay a small fee to have them grilled. The chefs handle anything the market offers, cooking each item perfectly. Here, barbecue is just the method; the true marvel is the staggering variety of ingredients.

After reading about fire-roasted pigs, one might assume Yunnan barbecue is purely rustic. While it has its bold side, the abundance of local produce has also inspired remarkable refinement.

Yunnanese are as meticulous about barbecue cuts as Chaoshan people are about beef hotpot. In Mangshi, for instance, pig tails are a prized delicacy—charred until golden, then chopped into bony yet supremely textured bites. Similarly, pig gums, sphincters, the "active" back meat of frequently pecking chickens, and fish jowls all feature on Yunnan’s barbecue menus. To savor that "living meat," Yunnanese spare no effort.

The epitome of Yunnan’s refined barbecue is found in Zhaotong, where "baba shao" (stick barbecue) originated. These are arguably China’s tiniest skewers—each holding a fingernail-sized piece of meat. The small size ensures perfect texture and seasoning. Brushed with sauce, beef or fatty morsels are quickly charred over high heat, then dusted with chili and sesame. Tender and intensely flavorful, they vanish by the hundreds in no time.

Beyond ingredients, Yunnan barbecue excels in maximizing local spices—best exemplified by Dai-style barbecue. The Dai people have specialized methods for different foods: "bing" (plain grilling), "bing wo" (stuffed with spices), or "bing ya" (wrapped in banana or wood leaves). All use copious fresh herbs, with lemongrass being the star. Lemongrass-grilled fish, meat, and ribs have become iconic Yunnan dishes, showcasing how brilliantly fragrance can elevate barbecue.

Finally, beyond the unique spices used in grilling, the true secret weapon of Yunnan barbecue's seasoning system isn't in the cooking process itself, but rather the dipping sauces served at the table.

Yunnan is a kingdom of dipping sauces. Even when eating a simple bowl of greens in daily life, locals would eagerly prepare a dipping sauce. It's no surprise, then, that Yunnan barbecue is inseparable from these condiments.

Yunnan barbecue boasts an immense variety of dipping sauces, nearly all of which can be paired with grilled dishes. For example, the most basic dipping sauce for grilled tofu is a mix of fermented bean curd with cilantro or fish mint. Like most in southwestern China, Yunnan locals love spicy flavors. The foundational chili-based dips come in two main types: one made with roasted chili powder (yellow chili dip) and another with oil-infused dried chilies (chili oil dip). In northeastern Yunnan, where culinary habits resemble Guizhou's, people also enjoy a charred chili dip flavored with mountain pepper. Different regions have their own unique sauces, such as the plum vinegar dip essential for Dali's raw pork skin. In short, Yunnan's barbecue dipping sauces are dazzlingly diverse and countless.

The most remarkable dipping sauces, however, may belong to southern Yunnan. Ethnic minorities like the Dai people combine fresh fruits, herbs, and unconventional fermentation techniques to create unforgettable soul-stirring dips. Examples include citrusy "lemon sa," passion fruit dip, pickled vegetable paste that cuts through greasiness instantly, fermented offal and meat-based "sa pie" dip, and the whimsical Fengqing beer dip.

With these sauces, barbecue is no longer just a smoky, greasy "heavy" cuisine—it gains a refreshing twist. Perhaps in this eternally sunny province, everything ultimately becomes vibrant and colorful.

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