Guizhou's Myriad Rice Noodles: A Bowl to Captivate Every Palate

How do people in Guizhou devour ten thousand kinds of rice noodles?

Eating rice noodles in Guizhou is a uniquely wonderful experience.

Guizhou's rice noodles are a powerful weapon to whet the appetite.

Photo 1 by Chen Qingquan, Photos 2-4 by Chen Weihong.

Let’s start with a bowl of mutton rice noodles. Tender, springy noodles nestle neatly in steaming broth, the rich aroma of mutton madly rushing into your nose. A spoonful of chili oil drizzled in instantly awakens your taste buds. The noodles, coated in broth, slip smoothly into your mouth, while the firm mutton, crispy skin, and refreshing pickles burst open between your teeth one after another. Before you know it, the bowl is emptied—even the broth is irresistible—

You think you’re eating the noodles? Clearly, the noodles have conquered you before you even realized it.

Who can resist the temptation of a bowl of Guizhou rice noodles?

Guizhou has an astonishing variety of noodles. Stand on any city street, and within 100 meters, you’ll find a stall or small shop selling rice noodles. Mutton noodles, beef noodles, pork trotter noodles, spicy chicken noodles, goose noodles, sour soup noodles, thick noodles, thin noodles, fermented noodles, cut noodles, scissor-cut noodles, rolled noodles, rice sheets, rice tofu… The endless varieties seem to challenge the limits of human imagination, each pushing the concept of "deliciousness" to new heights.

Countless types of rice noodles are scattered across Guizhou like stars in the sky.

Guizhou rice noodles: A grand adventure of rice and spice.

Let’s start with a seemingly simple question: Why does Guizhou have so many endlessly varied, irresistibly delicious rice noodles?

The answer seems obvious: Because Guizhou has a long history of rice cultivation and produces abundant rice.

Guizhou’s rice-fish-duck ecosystem is a globally important agricultural heritage.

Photo by Zhou Ruixi.

Indeed, as early as 2,000 years ago, during the pre-Qin period, the Qielan people began planting rice in Guizhou’s mountainous terrain. Later, indigenous inhabitants cultivated fields in the gentle "bazi" (flat basins) between mountains, making rice their staple food. To this day, when Guizhou locals grab a steaming portion of sticky rice from a street cart in the morning, they owe it to this history.

The mountainous bazi are key rice-producing areas in Guizhou. Pictured: Rice fields nestled among Wanfenglin’s peaks.

However, the cold-resistant, sticky glutinous rice that thrives in Guizhou’s rugged terrain isn’t suitable for making rice noodles—only long-grain indica rice works. This condition wasn’t fully met until the Ming and Qing dynasties, when soldiers and migrants from Huguang and other regions flooded into Guizhou, bringing indica rice widely grown there. Immigrants from all over blended rice cultivation and cooking techniques in Guizhou, finally creating the perfect conditions for rice noodles to emerge.

Heavy rice ears carry the weight of hope.

Photo by Yang Xiuyong.

In Guizhou, indica rice quickly spread like wildfire. Not only did flat areas like Suiyang, Pingba, and Huishui become rice granaries, but the bazi of Wanfenglin also boasted vast fertile fields yielding excellent rice, while terraces cascaded down the undulating mountains. Venture deeper into southeastern Guizhou, and you’ll see fish and ducks swimming through rolling rice paddies on the terraced slopes of Moon Mountain—a magical home built by people and rice together.

Grind rice into pulp, steam it into sheets, then knead, press, or extrude—countless delightful flavors blossom from this simplest rice aroma.

Steam rises, and the glistening white rice noodles release their fragrant scent.

Photo by Wu Xuewen

Chili peppers are one of the secrets behind Guizhou rice noodles' unrivaled appeal.

"The History of Chili Eating in China" notes that Guizhou was the first place in China to bring chili peppers to the dining table. The region lacked salt, so upon encountering this seasoning from distant America, locals fell deeply in love. Centuries of "replacing salt with chili" have made Guizhou people masters of wielding spiciness with the same finesse and versatility as others use salt.

The fiery kick of chili is the most familiar flavor to Guizhou people.

Chili peppers are awakened with hot oil, fried until slightly charred, then pounded while still sizzling and soaked in rich oil to seal in all the enticing flavors—this is chili oil. Perfect for tossing with noodles, even better drizzled over lamb rice noodles, seeping crimson into the meat's fibers and elevating its savoriness by several notches.

Burying chili peppers in the hot ashes of a wood-fired stove, roasting them until blackened and crisp, then crushing them yields "charred chili." Its heat is not aggressive but deep and warming. A sprinkle in beef noodles brings a toasty aroma at first bite, then a gradual rise in warmth that spreads through the pores, culminating in a satisfying, sweat-inducing feast.

Fig 1: Fermented chili paste pounded with rock sugar. Photo by Xia Gongwen

Fig 2: Chili oil—amount adjustable to taste. Photo by Chen Weihong

Fig 3: Charred chili hidden in local noodle shops. Photo by Chen Weihong

During the August-September chili harvest, Guizhou households haul out sturdy wooden or rubber basins, mincing dozens of pounds of chilies with ginger, garlic, and cardamom, then fermenting the mix with salt and sugar to make "zao chili." Beyond spiciness, it carries a mellow depth, ideal for stir-fries or as a dipping sauce. Paired with sour soup noodles, its fermented richness creates an unforgettable experience.

Tender rice sheets stained crimson with chili oil are utterly irresistible.

Indeed, chili is the soul of seasoning.

Guizhou boasts countless noodle varieties, not all spicy—or rather, precisely because everyone here understands spice, its use is exceptionally flexible. Noodle shops stock chili oil and charred chili, each with proprietary recipes. Diners freely explore and mix, as if wandering a maze of heat where every step brings a novel thrill. And beneath chili's reign, ingredients like mountain pepper, fish mint, and cilantro merge strangely in that spoonful of broth or topping—ever-changing, uniquely Guizhou.

Liupanshui lamb noodles swim in red oil, always crowned with cilantro.

Of the four major lamb noodle styles, which tempts you most?

The noodles are smooth, the chili fiery, but what universally conquers every diner's stomach is that perfect bite of well-balanced, aromatic meat—

Lamb reigns as the brightest star in Guizhou's noodle universe.

Thinly sliced yet satisfyingly chewy and rich.

Photo/Chen Qingquan

In Guizhou, the preferred choice for mutton is free-range goats. The high mountains, clear waters, and fresh grass create an idyllic environment where the goats grow up, drinking sweet springs and grazing on medicinal herbs while freely running and leaping. This results in firm, flavorful meat—though not as tender as lamb, it boasts a unique deliciousness. The best part is eating it with the skin on, allowing the layer of fat to tightly wrap around the lean meat while offering the chewiness of the skin, which becomes more satisfying with each bite.

When eating mutton in Guizhou, you’ll surely fall in love with the crispy chewiness of the goat skin.

Mutton + rice noodles—a powerhouse combination that stands unrivaled. In Guizhou, mutton rice noodles can be divided into four major styles: Zunyi, Shuicheng, Xingyi, and Jinsha, each with its own distinct charm.

Zunyi’s Xiazi Town is the largest chili distribution hub in China. Locally grown chaotian peppers, Bijie’s wrinkled peppers, Liupanshui’s Niuchang peppers, slender yet plump Huaxi peppers, and an ocean of green and red peppers from Sichuan and Hunan converge here. Yet, Xiazi’s mutton rice noodles aren’t famous for their spiciness—the original broth’s umami is the true pride of "Xiazi Mutton Rice Noodles."

The broth for Zunyi mutton rice noodles is simmered from sheep bones and a packet of Chinese herbs.

Photo/Chen Weihong

Fresh mutton isn’t just slow-cooked—it’s also pressed with a stone slab to compact the flavorful meat, giving it a firm, chewy texture when sliced.

The rice noodles are blanched in the original mutton broth, their snow-white strands shimmering with the richness of sheep fat. Topped with slices of meat, sprinkled with garlic sprouts, scallions, and cilantro, and drizzled with a ladle of mutton broth, the aroma bursts forth as if unlocking the senses. Lift the bowl and take a few sips, letting the steaming fragrance warm you from the inside out.

Zunyi mutton rice noodles—in one word: fresh!

Then comes the chili. A row of jars and condiments on the table lets seasoned diners customize their bowl. Charred chili adds smokiness, chili oil amplifies the richness of fat, while Sichuan pepper powder, soy sauce, or even salt can be adjusted to taste. This bowl of original mutton rice noodles is like a kaleidoscope—every diner enjoys a unique experience.

Photo/Chen Weihong

Compared to the often minimalist presentation of Zunyi mutton rice noodles, Liupanshui’s version is far more vibrant.

Liupanshui’s mutton rice noodles feature a thick layer of red oil, fragrant and spicy.

Photo/Chen Qingquan

A heavy blanket of red oil is Shuicheng noodles’ signature look. It’s not that Shuicheng locals disrespect diners’ freedom of choice—it’s just that the "Cool City" is chilly, and extra chili oil ensures a fiery, satisfying meal. The short-legged black goats raised in the high mountains are rich in fat and bold in flavor, perfectly suited for robust tastes. Shuicheng’s charred chili also has coarser grains, packing more smokiness and fiercer heat. Slurp the noodles, bite into garlic to cut the gaminess, and revel in the spicy thrill.

A bowl like this can chase away the chill of an entire winter.

After the oily richness dances on your tongue, a bite of pickled vegetables cleanses the palate—crisp, sour, slightly sweet, and mouthwatering. Take another slurp of noodles, and it’s as enticing as the first bite.

Among Guizhou’s many mutton rice noodles, Xingyi’s version stands out. Perhaps because Xingyi sits at the junction of Guizhou, Yunnan, and Guangxi, its culinary habits are deeply influenced by Yunnan, lending a refreshing twist to its flavors.

Slender Xingyi rice noodles may look delicate, but their taste is anything but thin.

Just from the appearance of the noodles alone—here, they are white, tender, and slender, resembling Yunnan rice noodles. But don’t assume thin noodles lack chewiness; the rice from Xingyi Wanfenglin is fragrant and resilient, making the noodles springy and capable of holding onto broth, enhancing their flavor.

Take a look inside the bowl, and you’ll find a richer palette of colors compared to other places. The broth is slightly red, the noodles snow-white, and the mutton slices are cut so thin they’re almost translucent, alongside deep-red blood curds. Pale-pink pickled radish, diced like fruit, adds a crisp freshness when tossed in. Beyond the vibrant cilantro, a few mint leaves occasionally garnish the dish, their coolness balancing the meat’s richness—just the sight of it lifts the spirits.

The golden-red sauce is the soul of Xingyi mutton noodles.

Photo / Fan Huohua

The most special touch is that spoonful of secret sauce. Xingyi’s sauce-making tradition dates back centuries, rumored even to have ties to the Southern Ming court that once sought refuge here—the exact ingredients are each shop’s closely guarded secret. The base is likely beans, supplemented with termite mushrooms and over a dozen herbs. When the sauce blends into the mutton broth, a golden-red hue emerges, releasing an exotic aroma that intertwines with the faint numbing scent of Sichuan peppercorns, creating a fantastical flavor experience.

Take a slurp of Xingyi mutton noodles, and its rich, complex taste will leave a lasting impression.

Among all varieties of mutton noodles, Jinsha mutton noodles stand out for their long history and authentic flavor.

Legend has it that as early as the mid-Qing Dynasty, the first mutton noodle shop opened in Jinsha’s Shatu Town. The flat terrain and proximity to mountains allowed locals to master free-range goat farming early on, refining their mutton-cooking skills over two centuries to a state of perfection—"adding or subtracting anything would spoil it."

Jinsha mutton noodles are a classic taste of nostalgia.

Photo / Chen Weihong

For the mutton broth, each family has its secret spice blend, simmered slowly with over ten ingredients like spikenard, cardamom, amomum, angelica root, fennel, dried tangerine peel, and cloves. The chili oil is made with Bijie’s Dafang wrinkled peppers—thick-fleshed, mildly sweet, and fragrant without excessive heat—then fried with mutton and sesame, creating a glossy, irresistibly rich flavor that feels sinfully indulgent.

How many more magical rice noodles does this karst province hold?

Though surrounded by mountains, Guizhou’s flavors are anything but isolated.

Sour and spicy notes form the foundation of Guizhou cuisine, while the abundant mountain produce adds wild, ever-changing variety. During the Anti-Japanese War, Guizhou served as the rear base, drawing scholars, merchants, and soldiers from North China, the Northeast, Guangdong, and the Yangtze-Huai region, converging diverse flavors in Guiyang. Anshun, a historical transport hub, further honed local dishes under the scrutiny of discerning eaters. The mountainous terrain fragments culinary zones, creating a mosaic of distinct flavors—evident in the sheer diversity of rice noodles.

Guizhou’s bounty is vast, and its noodles are even richer in treasures.

Beef noodles are another standout in Guizhou’s rice noodle scene. Anshun’s beef noodles rely on "braised beef" as their flavorful core. Premium yellow beef is stewed until tender, topped with chili oil, and warmed by the aroma of ginger and star anise. Guiyang’s Huaxi beef noodles are simpler, balancing clear-broth braised beef and yellow-braised styles, with a base enriched by beef fat—thick, creamy-yellow, and relying on rich oiliness rather than heavy spice.

Guiyang beef noodles may look plain, but they’re packed with beef fat.

While beef and mutton were prized as tools and sacrificial offerings in ancient times, pork appeared far more frequently on dining tables. Guiyang’s Qingyan braised pork trotters are famous, often served whole in noodles—their gelatinous, wobbling skin contrasting with clear broth, delivering collagen-packed joy with every bite. Sliced, they become "trotters," meltingly tender as fat merges with broth.

Plump, sticky pork trotters paired with noodles are pure, energy-packed happiness.

"Changwang," a mix of pork intestines and blood, is another golden partner for rice noodles. While modern diners often eat it with egg noodles, the Republican-era book *Qianwei Shuolue* praised "Changwang noodles," noting "Guizhou locals are especially fond of them." Springy noodles, tender blood, fatty intestines, and chili oil infused with fragrant lard create an endlessly回味-worthy dish.

Fat, tender, springy, and slippery rice noodles with pork intestines and blood.

After discussing "changwang" (pork intestines and blood) and lard, "cuishao" cannot be left unmentioned. In Guizhou, "shaozi" is likely a homophone for "saozi" (minced meat topping), and any noodle topping can be called "shao," but "cuishao" undoubtedly refers to crispy pork cracklings. Pure fat is diced, stir-fried to render the oil, and when about 70-80% of the oil is extracted, sweet fermented rice is added back to the pan. When the cracklings turn crispy and form a shell, they are seasoned with baijiu (Chinese liquor) and sugar. This intricate process elevates "cuishao" from a byproduct of lard to a star ingredient in local cuisine. Beyond "cuishao," there are also "ruanshao" (made from fatty pork belly) and "jingshao" (made from lean meat)—all beloved delicacies in Guizhou.

Who can resist a bite of oily, sweet, and crispy "cuishao"?

"Cuishao" is delicious in any type of rice noodles, but to preserve its crispiness, it's best served "dry-tossed." The beloved "laosufen" (old plain noodles) of Guiyang rarely includes meat, but when it does, "cuishao" is the top choice. The main ingredient is "suanfen" (fermented rice noodles), which are notably plump, short, and thick, with no strong sourness but a distinct fermented rice aroma. Tossed with chili oil, garnished with cilantro, soybeans, pickled radish, and the soulful "cuishao," each slurp brings a delightful interplay of textures and flavors.

Guiyang's "laosufen" is made with slightly thicker fermented rice noodles.

Spicy chicken is another excellent topping for noodles. Unlike Sichuan or Hunan styles, Guizhou's "laziji" is stir-fried with "ciba chili paste" (a sticky blend of chili, young ginger, and garlic) instead of dry-fried with dried chilies. This method allows the flavors to meld seamlessly, delivering a spicy yet mellow taste with a long-lasting aftertaste. A homemade batch can last for several days of noodle meals.

Spicy chicken noodles—never tiring, no matter how many bowls you eat.

Heading southeast in Guizhou, rice noodle flavors grow even more diverse. Kaili's clay-pot sour soup noodles epitomize Guizhou cuisine—spicy, sour, and refreshingly bold. The sour soup comes in two varieties: "white sour" (fermented rice-based) and "red sour" (tomato-based, ideally using wild "maolaguo" tomatoes). The noodles require minimal seasoning since they're traditionally paired with a dipping sauce of roasted chili, fish mint, and mountain pepper oil. Don't worry if the flavors seem unusual—just two bites, and you'll be hooked.

The tangy, refreshing soup paired with chewy, springy noodles is utterly addictive.

In terms of noodle shapes, the aforementioned are all round and slender, but Guizhou's rice noodles offer even more variety.

In Zunyi, thick, wide rice sheets ("mipi") are a staple, reminiscent of Hanzhong-style rice skins, delivering a hearty, filling meal. "Jianfen" (scissor-cut noodles) are much lighter—thin, wrinkled rice sheets stacked and snipped into segments. If not for the bold chili oil, they might be mistaken for Cantonese rice noodle rolls.

Fig. 1: Zunyi rice sheets. Fig. 2: Scissor-cut noodles.

Of course, rice noodle rolls are stuffed, making "juangfen" (rolled noodles) a better comparison. Anshun's "xiaoguojuan" wraps square rice sheets around bean sprouts, pickled radish, crispy soybeans, and fish mint, drizzled with fermented tofu brine—a refreshing summer bite. In Rongjiang, fan-shaped rice sheets are rolled with minced meat, lettuce, and mushrooms, creating a warm, energizing main dish.

Fig. 1-2: Wrapped rolls at Anshun's night market.

What sustains this vibrant rice noodle kingdom?

Like many southwestern cities, Guizhou operates on a nonstop schedule: as night markets quiet down around 3-4 AM, breakfast stalls already begin opening. From dawn to late night, the sprawling noodle kingdom relies on a robust food industry backbone.

Instant rice noodles on modern production lines.

Freshness is paramount for rice noodles. Traditionally, shops milled and steamed their own, and even today, small-town stone mills powered by motors churn out fresh rice batter. Nearby factories work around the clock—fermented noodles must be made between 2-4 AM for same-day use, while wet and dry noodles have slightly longer shelf lives but still require overnight production and pre-dawn delivery. Morning markets display mountains of noodles, proof of the night's labor.

Rice noodles, awaiting a flavorful day at the dawn market.

Satisfying the city's discerning eaters is no small feat, and expanding beyond the mountains demands even more. Large-scale production, high efficiency, fresh ingredients, and standardized flavors are key. Brands like "Nanshanpo," "Guifenghuang," and "Huangguoshu Sanwanfen" each innovate fiercely. Digital production lines churn out thousands of tons annually, acting as vital engines that sustain the noodle kingdom and export Guizhou's flavors far and wide.

The production line, instant rice noodles ready to go.

Once upon a time, wanderers from Guizhou suffered from homesickness, unable to find a comforting bowl of noodles to soothe their stomachs when far from home. Now, online shopping is convenient enough, and the streets of big cities are dotted with Guizhou rice noodle shops. Fresh noodles airlifted from their hometown, paired with authentic Guizhou ingredients, not only comfort the lonely hearts of wanderers but also win over many diners who have never set foot in Guizhou with this unique and delightful flavor.

Rice noodles are a part of life in Guizhou.

To experience the joy of slurping noodles, I suggest you visit Guizhou—but perhaps you don’t even need to come. Look, even across mountains and rivers, ten thousand varieties of Guizhou rice noodles are rushing toward you in full force.

Map Editor | Liu Yunshuo

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