Even More Hospitable Than Shandong People Are Shandong Sheep!

Shanxian Mutton Soup, the boiling taste of the New Year.

In a celadon basin, the clear mutton broth floats with glistening oil droplets, layered with thick slices of mutton—the lean meat tender and succulent, the fat translucent, resembling a "meat mountain" rising above the tiny "soup spring." A few drops of fiery red chili oil contrast vividly with green scallions and cilantro, the red vibrant and the green fresh. A sip in winter makes worries dissipate with the rising steam.

Tengzhou Mutton Soup, where the "clear broth school" also brims with richness.

In an earthen bowl, freshly ladled mutton soup still bubbles slightly, with large chunks of mutton bobbing in it, lively and bustling. The stewed cabbage, soft as jade, and translucent vermicelli entwined with meat and vegetables, speak of the bonds of flavor. A sizzle of chili oil crackles, and before the rice vinegar can tint the milky broth, a quick stir releases an aroma like a molecular charge, rushing straight into the nostrils.

Shandong Homestyle Mutton Soup, the bustling taste of reunion.

The above three scenes depict the gustatory and visual experiences brought by Shanxian Mutton Soup, Tengzhou Mutton Soup, and Shandong Homestyle Mutton Soup. In Shandong, there are countless ways to enjoy mutton, with dozens of mutton soup styles alone. The history of Shandong people eating mutton spans thousands of years. The vast and flat Qilu land nurtures diverse customs, and as the saying goes, "different lands raise different sheep." The history of Shandong people eating mutton is essentially a map of Shandong's mutton culture.

For Shandong, eating mutton is a cultural relic wandering through historical scrolls; a snapshot of local customs across the Qilu land; a steaming hope of familial warmth; a pursuit of the healthy philosophy to "add vigor to life"; and a beautiful vision of reunion during the Chinese New Year.

During the Spring and Autumn Period, the first day of the Lunar New Year in the State of Lu was spent immersed in the rich aroma of mutton. Every year on this day, the ruler of Lu would lead a sheep to the ancestral temple for sacrifice (ancient called "Xi Yang"), followed by a "year-end review meeting" with his ministers.

A shepherd in Weifang, Shandong, herding sheep under the sunset of the ancient city.

By the time of Duke Ding of Lu, both the sacrifice and the "annual meeting" were canceled. Zigong, a student of Confucius's "MBA," suggested from a commercial perspective that the Xi Yang should also be scrapped. But Confucius shook his head repeatedly: "You care about the sheep, but I care about the ritual."

To Confucius, a humble sheep symbolized the rites of Zhou—absolutely indispensable! Even more intriguing, the recently unearthed Confucius screen from the Haihunhou tomb records Confucius's age, revealing that his zodiac sign was also the sheep!

Some breeds of Shandong sheep redefine perceptions of the animal.

Zuo Qiuming, Confucius's predecessor and fellow native of Lu, the founding father of Chinese historiography, also recorded amusing anecdotes about sheep in his *Zuo Zhuan* and *Guoyu*—

Duke Huan of Qi convened a meeting of feudal lords at Kuiqiu, where the Zhou emperor "sent congratulations from afar"—a piece of mutton.

Ji Huanzi, a powerful minister of Lu, discovered a "blind box" while digging a well at home—inside was a lamb.

Duke Ding of Lu's "annual meeting," Duke Huan of Qi's "congratulatory letter," and Ji Huanzi's "blind box"—Shandong sheep made their debut on China's historical stage with a touch of humor.

A map that could make one hungry just by looking at it.

By Emperor Wu of Han's time, "sheep fighting" became popular in Shandong. When Zhufu Yan implemented the "Decree of Enfeoffment" in Qi, King Liu Rui of Jiaoxi and King Liu Shun of Chengyang resolved their territorial dispute by pitting black goats against white goats on the beach.

During the Three Kingdoms period, when Cao Cao and Yuan Shao vied for supremacy, Cao Cao used Caozhou (modern Heze) as his base. After a defeat, while leading a "review session," he drew inspiration from shepherds' sheep fights, embarking on a path of "counterattack."

Following "Boss Cao's" example, sheep fighting flourished grandly in southwestern Shandong. By the Tang Dynasty, Li Yanshou's *History of the Northern Dynasties* recorded sheep fights in Lu during the New Year, sparking brawls among "hooligans." Today, sheep fighting remains a local custom in southwestern Shandong, an indispensable entertainment at Spring Festival temple fairs.

Shandong Liaocheng Sheep Fighting Competition: Sheep must be high-spirited and combative.

In modern history, Shandong sheep were not only used for fighting but also deployed in actual battles, becoming part of "classic military tactics."

In 1925, Guo Songling allied with Feng Yuxiang to fight Zhang Zuolin's Fengtian Army, but the war reached a stalemate. Han Fuju, one of Feng Yuxiang's "Thirteen Tigers" and a Shandong warlord, had a "stroke of genius"—why not imitate the "Fire Oxen Formation" of Tian Dan, a famous general of the Qi state during the Warring States period?

So, Han Fuju and Zhang Zhijiang, the top of Feng Yuxiang's "Five Tiger Generals" and known as the "Bishop General," selected 300 rams, tied burning hemp to their tails, and formed a "Fire Sheep Formation" to charge at Zhang Zuolin's Fengtian Army. The result was predictable: they simply delivered a lavish mutton feast to the enemy.

Shandong Zaozhuang: A massive wave of sheep is coming at you.

The Fengtian Army's Li Jinglin division was overjoyed, tossing over leaflets offering a temporary ceasefire and inviting Han and Zhang to a mutton banquet. The unorthodox "Fire Sheep Formation" left Feng Yuxiang's Soviet military advisor, Primakov, utterly dumbfounded on the spot.

As an important means of production in ancient times, Shandong's sheep were often used for fighting, proving their abundance. During the Northern Wei Dynasty, Jia Sixie, a Shandong Shouguang native, agricultural "influencer," and governor of Gaoyang, dedicated a chapter to sheep farming in his *Essential Techniques for the Welfare of the People*, frequently using "a thousand head" as a unit, showcasing remarkable boldness.

Governor Jia's sheep-farming chapter contained the viral secrets of the time. Today, it could be translated as "The Self-Cultivation of a Shepherd," "How to Shear Wool Correctly," and "Sheep Born in the First Month Are Heaven's Chosen," all with clear "viral article" potential.

We can also see that Shandong's long-standing prosperity in sheep farming is closely tied to its geographical conditions.

Linyi Mengyin scenery: Sheep always steal the spotlight.

Shandong Province has a temperate climate, concentrated rainfall, and distinct seasons, belonging to the temperate monsoon climate, providing an ideal environment for sheep. It is the third-largest sheep-farming province in China, after Inner Mongolia and Xinjiang. Shandong boasts many sheep breeds, including excellent local varieties like Jining Grey Goats, Laiwu Black Goats, Lubei White Goats, Huanghuai White Goats, and Small-tailed Han Sheep, as well as imported breeds like Charollais, Texel, Poll Dorset, and Boer Goats. Additionally, Shandong's mutton sheep farms are among the largest in the country.

Grilled lamb chops, cured lamb legs, and boiled mutton.

Photo 1 by Wang Haohao; Photo 2 by Tuchong Creative; Photo 3 by Huang Sanjiao Morning Post - Dongying Foodie Group.

Shandong people's love for mutton is not only a historical tradition but also a cultural gene. Calligraphy sage Wang Xizhi was a native of Langya, Shandong. Once, craving mutton, he casually wrote a note instructing his chef to buy some, leaving behind the authentic calligraphy piece "Two Jin of Mutton." Though the note was later lost for various reasons, Wang Xizhi's "foodie" image is undeniable.

Wang Xizhi's fellow Shandong native, Qing Dynasty writer Pu Songling, channeled his mutton cravings into poetry. One winter, a friend invited him for mutton, but heavy snow prevented the outing, prompting him to write *A Playful Song of Cooking Mutton*: "My old friend planned to cook mutton on the seventh, / Opening the letter, my face lit with joy. / Suddenly, the sky darkened, snow swirled, / The roads slippery, the rain wet—no way to go."

The next winter, the friend invited him again, only for another snowstorm to strike. This time, Pu Songling braved the snow for that rich, fatty bite: "Last year, mutton was cooked amid heavy snow, / This year, heavy snow again, mutton still cooked. / The cold wind chills my skin, the roads vanish, / My appetite risks my life—my body nearly frozen."

Shandong mutton soup: A ray of sunshine in the bitter winter.

It's unclear whether Pu Songling's friend served mutton soup. But Shandong's mutton soups, roughly counted, exceed twenty varieties, with almost every county or city having its signature version: Juye Jar Soup, Shanxian Mutton Soup, Chengwu Mutton Soup, Zaozhuang Mutton Soup, Xiji Mutton Soup, Tengzhou Mutton Soup, Feixian Mutton Soup, Mengshan Mutton Soup... Whole-mutton soups are equally dazzling: Yishui Whole Mutton Soup, Linqu Whole Mutton Soup, Yanwo Whole Mutton Soup, Laiyang Whole Mutton Soup, Wenming Whole Mutton Soup... You could drink a different one every day for a month without repetition.

A Shandong New Year is incomplete without mutton. Jinan locals celebrate with Mingshi Roast Whole Lamb; Dezhou folks enjoy blood sausage made from sheep's blood; Linqing's festive flavor includes a bowl of hot lamb tripe; Zaozhuang returnees must have a bowl of Xiji Mutton Soup or a plate of stir-fried minced mutton. Meanwhile, Weifang residents feast on Linqu Whole Mutton Banquet, featuring mutton in 127 dishes.

Linqu's Yishan Black Goat Whole Mutton Banquet: Only with mutton soup is it truly satisfying.

The table was laden with an array of "lamb dishes": braised lamb trotters, stewed lamb ribs, stir-fried lamb kidneys, mixed lamb heart, quick-fried lamb tripe, steamed lamb lungs... Hot and cold, soupy and dry, light and refreshing, or rich and savory—every cooking method was employed to showcase the lamb in all its glory, making diners feel as if they had stepped into a kaleidoscope of lamb delicacies.

During Shandong's Spring Festival fairs, dozens of open-air cauldrons simmering with lamb often line the dirt roads of villages. Freshly cooked lamb legs, ribs, liver, intestines, and blood are piled high on meat stalls like small mountains, offering choices like drinking the broth or dipping flatbreads. The aroma wafting for miles is no exaggeration—the bustling, boiling vitality in those pots far surpasses the grandeur of aristocratic feasts in both liveliness and richness.

The lamb soup at the fair is an open-air celebration of bold flavors.

For Shandong families, lamb and carrot dumplings are a must for New Year's Eve dinner. One bite reveals minced lean meat like pink crystal, diced fat like white jade, carrots like Shoushan stone, and cilantro flecks like emerald—a burst of juices that captivates the soul.

A table laden with fine lamb for the New Year naturally calls for fine liquor. Let’s see how ancient literati described the pairing of lamb and wine—

*"A thousand pounds of lamb, a hundred barrels of wine, to make your horse plump with wheat and millet."* These lines were written by the wife of Su Boyu, a Western Jin dynasty poet. When Su Boyu was sent on a long mission to Shu and failed to return, his wife in Chang'an poured her longing into a poem written in concentric circles on a plate—later known as the "Plate Poem."

Bowl after bowl of lamb soup, a delicious "deployment of troops."

The earliest literary pairing of lamb and wine actually came from a woman’s hand—a poem yearning for reunion. A thousand pounds of lamb symbolized the weight of her longing, while a hundred barrels of wine represented her endless hope.

If the wife of Su Boyu’s verse was the delicate "CP" of lamb and wine, then Wang Yuanliang’s poem from the Song dynasty was its bold counterpart: *"Drawing wine like a rainbow from the well, golden plates piled high with Hu-style lamb."*

The poet drank with the vigor of a rainbow, the colorless wine shimmering with prismatic hues under the light, while the tender lamb on golden plates resembled a "golden-pink aristocracy." The revelry of Bacchus was also a celebration of color.

Beneath its lively surface, this poem was actually a man’s homesick lament. After the Yuan dynasty conquered the Southern Song, Wang Yuanliang poured his longing for his homeland into verse.

In truth, lamb paired with wine isn’t just a classical remedy for nostalgia—it’s also a golden duo in modern dietary health. As people strive for a better life, the warming nourishment of lamb and the fortifying kick of spirits create a two-way journey: "adding vigor to life" and "yearning for a healthier existence."

As a child, I eagerly awaited my grandmother’s lamb soup every winter. A Shandong native who had been away from home for fifty years, her soup simmered with the homesickness of her era. Her recipe was simple: only Shandong lamb, stewed with napa cabbage until the meat was tender and the cabbage had surrendered its toughness, absorbing every drop of lamb’s essence.

Once the soup was ready, she’d drizzle it with her homemade chili oil and a splash of 9-degree rice vinegar. The richness of the broth, the heat of the chili, and the tang of the vinegar melded together, leaving me sweating profusely. Watching snowflakes fall outside, like tiny sheep descending onto a winter pasture, I wondered if the night travelers, too, dreamed of home and lamb soup.

Shandong’s homestyle lamb soup carries the sweet anticipation of reunion.

Come New Year, Grandma’s lamb soup took center stage at the table, awaited not just by children but also by adults who rarely gathered. They’d pour strong liquor into small cups, clinking glasses with laughter. Their smiling faces, discussing the year’s fortunes, reflected in the amber-hued wine.

Steam rose from bowls of lamb soup as wine rippled in cups. The elders savored bites of lamb and sips of liquor, exclaiming in their unshaken Shandong dialect: *"Now this hits the spot!"* Only later did I realize that each sip carried the fiery zest of life—a hope to "add vigor" to living.

Header image | Wearing high heels to sweep the streets

Cover image | Visual China