The winter solstice has passed, and the coldest period of the year has begun. The north is covered in ice and snow, creating a scene so harsh that southerners might jokingly compare it to "exile to Ningguta." Yet, the unheated south can chill northerners to the bone just as much. On cold southern days, snow may be rare, but the biting cold is no less intense. Why not warm up with a hot clay pot meal? After all, no matter where you are, who can resist the deliciousness of clay pot dishes?
Despite the rise of modern kitchen gadgets like microwaves, air fryers, and automatic cookers, the humble clay pot has never faded from the stage of cookware and serving dishes. It may seem heavy and plain, with a slow cooking process, but it can "stew" almost anything. Southern clay pots, in particular, showcase a vibrant and diverse culinary tradition.
In winter, what could be more heartwarming than a steaming clay pot?
Clay pot rice, sizzling clay pot dishes, clay pot congee...
In Guangdong, everything and every flavor can be stewed.
In Guangdong, clay pots are called "bo zai," giving rise to a globally beloved Cantonese dish—clay pot rice.
Cured meats, BBQ pork, mushroom and chicken, black bean spare ribs, pork liver, braised pork, roast duck, poached chicken, anchovies, clam meat, eel, yellow eel... How many flavors can be packed into clay pot rice?
A tempting bowl of clay pot rice.
At first glance, clay pot rice seems simple—just rice and toppings—but there’s much more to it. While it whets the appetite, the clay pot itself is fragile and prone to cracking, so most pots on the stove are reinforced with a "hoop." This even finds its way into everyday language: when couples face conflicts, they either "hoop the pot" (reconcile) or "smash the pot" (break up)!
Serving clay pot rice requires one final flourish: pouring the sauce. Lift the lid, and as the sizzling sound mingles with the aromas of rice and meat, drizzle the dark, glossy sauce over the hot pot—the feast begins.
Most clay pots on the stove are reinforced with a "hoop."
To achieve fragrant, distinct grains, choose long, tender rice like "siu miu" (丝苗米). A well-made clay pot rice offers three layers of texture: the top soaked in meat juices, the middle translucent and tender, and the bottom crispy "rice crust" (锅巴). This requires constant rotation over the flame and precise heat control to ensure even cooking, resulting in a perfect balance of tenderness, crispiness, and aroma.
The most irresistible part of clay pot rice is the crispy rice crust.
When you reach the rice crust at the bottom, the meal nears its end. A good crust can be lifted with chopsticks—golden, translucent, and crisp without greasiness. After devouring it, you’ll fully appreciate the skill and effort poured into every aspect of the dish, from the cookware to the ingredients, heat control, and flavors.
A table full of dishes paired with plain congee—truly satisfying!
Amidst a spread of fish rice, braised meats, raw marinated dishes, cooked foods, and pickles, what’s the star? In Chaoshan, it’s "mue" (糜), a rice porridge that reigns supreme with countless side dishes. Whether you prefer it thicker than "congee" or with distinct grains, no modern cookware can rival a clay pot simmered over an open flame. Unlike clay pot rice, "mue" requires glutinous rice, like local early-harvest grains.
Plain "mue" is made with just rice, while adding shrimp, crab, fish, chicken, duck, abalone, etc., near the end creates "fragrant mue," commonly known as "clay pot congee." If plain "mue" is the mild, comforting "white moonlight" of Chaoshan cuisine, fragrant "mue" is its richer, more indulgent counterpart.
Unlike clay pot rice or "mue," "jue jue bao" involves stir-frying or braising fresh ingredients directly in a scorching-hot clay pot. High heat, aromatics like ginger and garlic, and savory sauces lock in moisture, requiring speed—strong fire, fresh ingredients, quick cooking, and intense aroma. Served sizzling, the pot’s retained heat keeps the dish cooking at the table, accompanied by a tantalizing "jue jue" sound. The "wok hei" (breath of the wok) is its soul; legend says a splash of yellow wine can ignite the pot’s flames.
Bighead carp head, Nanjing clay pot, Hubei lotus root soup...
In Jiangnan, clay pots are all about freshness. Whether in Jiangsu or Zhejiang, bighead carp (also called "fathead") is the top choice for fish head dishes. Its tender, succulent meat shines—and is even enhanced—when cooked in a clay pot.
The head of a bighead carp is already a delicacy, and with tofu added, it becomes doubly delicious. The claypot fish head with tofu was mentioned by the late Mr. Wang Zengqi, who revealed the secret to its exquisite flavor: "The soup should be simmered over low heat until the tofu develops a honeycomb texture. For claypot fish head with tofu, use the head of a bighead carp (also known as a fathead fish), split in half, and add shiitake mushrooms, flat bamboo shoots (pickled bamboo shoots), and dried shrimp. The soup is clear yet rich in flavor, surpassing even sea cucumber and shark fin."
Trying the claypot fish head there would make the trip truly worthwhile.
What you’re eating there isn’t just fish—it’s a culture of fish.
Hubei is undoubtedly a land of fish and rice, with fish cakes, fish balls, fish offal... likely one of the best places for fish cuisine. Yet around the time of Light Snow each year, people in Hubei’s lakes and lotus ponds are busy harvesting another delicacy: lotus root.
"How to endure the depths of winter? Lotus root soup eases homesickness." Shallow claypots are used for dishes to retain heat better; standard-height claypots are ideal for soups and rice, with just enough capacity for staples and sides. For stewing lotus root, a small-mouthed, wide-bellied earthen pot (diaozi) is preferred. Unlike the "just-right" claypots used for claypot rice, an aged diaozi is best for lotus root soup. On the stove, the diaozi bubbles away, slowly transforming crisp lotus root into a tender, starchy delight, while the pork ribs become succulent and fall-off-the-bone tender, filling the air with an aromatic, mellow broth.
The thick, dark-brown grease coating the diaozi is a hallmark of an established eatery.
In the refined Jiangnan region, where flavors often surprise and delight, one must mention Nanjing’s "Double Stinky Claypot." Gourmets who salivate at the name surely know its essence: a stew of stinky tofu (called "stinky dayuan" in Yangzhou) and pork intestines. The stinky tofu, soaked in rich broth and oil, bursts with bean-infused juices between the teeth, while the flavorful intestines offer a slight chewiness. This "double stinkiness" creates a symphony of textures—pungent to the nose but irresistibly savory, making it the perfect rice companion.
Nanjing’s claypots have a unique "single-serving" appeal.
Packed with vegetables, meat, protein, and carbs, they’re also ideal for fitness enthusiasts.
While claypots across China often follow a standard template of bone broth and toppings, Nanjing’s version stands apart. Who says locals only obsess over duck, noodles, and wontons? There’s also the curry-infused claypot, where toppings like fried gluten puffs, bean sprouts, kelp, greens, quail eggs, tofu skin, and vermicelli swim in bone broth, elevated by a spoonful of fragrant yellow curry powder—a multi-layered feast that tantalizes the taste buds.
Shanghai, Yunnan, Guizhou...
Each claypot carries its local flair. In Shanghai’s "Three Delicacies Claypot," the star might not be the egg dumplings or shrimp but the golden-fried pork skin. Puffed and porous, it soaks up the broth, offering a crispy bite. In Yunnan, fresh carp or bowfish from Erhai Lake is paired with tender chicken slices, ham, and shiitake mushrooms, simmered in a local claypot for a fragrant, tender, and delectable fish stew.
Egg dumplings, the star of southern claypots.
Guizhou’s claypot lamb rice noodles feature snow-white noodles, tender yet firm lamb, and a rich, warming broth. The vibrant red sour soup version is even more flavorful, delivering a tangy, spicy kick that makes mouths water. Unique to the region’s claypot noodles is the obligatory side: fish mint root.
Sour bamboo shoots add an unmistakable luosifen (snail noodle) pedigree to Liuzhou’s claypot duck feet with snails. The duck feet, fried before stewing, boast crispy skin and melt-in-the-mouth tenderness, easily sliding off the bone.
The tender, fragrant claypot duck feet with snails.
Winter calls for nourishment, and Fujian’s ginger-infused duck (jiangmuya) is a must for boosting vitality. The duck’s golden skin and tender meat, paired with pungent ginger, create a harmonious blend—aromatic, savory, and utterly comforting.
Hainan’s mild winters are no match for the claypot’s magic: sweet coconut and tender chicken meld perfectly, yielding a fragrant,清爽 broth and meat that dissolves on the tongue.
The ginger-rich, aromatic jiangmuya.
Broadly, claypots come in many forms—earthenware, ceramic; glazed or unglazed; for cooking or serving. Wherever they appear, in whatever role, their heat retention and even cooking win hearts. Perhaps that’s why they embrace all ingredients—meat, veg, land, or sea—letting every flavor shine, crafting the myth that "food tastes better in a claypot."
In this winter when several southern cities have hit "record low temperatures," whether it's vegetables, rice, or soup, let a clay pot bring some comfort to your stomach.
The flames from a Cantonese sizzling pot doused with white wine on the stove
Cover image | Visual China
Reference: "A Record of Cantonese Cuisine" by Sheng Hui
This article is original content from [Di Dao Feng Wu]