The Great North vs South Mala Tang Showdown: Which Region Reigns Supreme?

The buzzword in the food scene this March is spicy hot pot, or more specifically, Gansu-style spicy hot pot.

Gansu-style spicy hot pot differs significantly from the two traditional schools—Sichuan red oil and Northeast sesame paste. In Gansu (especially the Tianshui area), a generous spoonful of chili oil is poured over the dish, making it fragrant and irresistible. Priced at just one yuan per skewer, a large bowl for two costs only 50-60 yuan.

This affordable and accessible delicacy, after going viral, has drawn hordes of food enthusiasts. Some drove eight hours, others took overnight trains, and some even flew from the southeast to the northwest, heading straight to the restaurant with their luggage to queue for a bowl of authentic Gansu-style spicy hot pot.

Gansu-style spicy hot pot, the latest viral snack from Tianshui.

Photo/VCG

Spicy hot pot, ubiquitous on streets, has long been the undisputed national dish. Since its invention in the 1980s by people from Leshan, Sichuan, and later popularized nationwide by Northeasterners with their adaptations, China’s spicy hot pot today is far more diverse than just Sichuan, Northeast, and Gansu styles, thanks to decades of migration and culinary evolution.

For example, Guizhou’s version, called "sour-spicy hot pot," uses a red sour broth as its base, embodying the local love for tangy heat. In Xinxiang, Henan, the broth is sweet and sour, while Fujian’s version features generous servings of peanut sauce and satay sauce... Spicy hot pot starts with heat but goes far beyond it.

Spicy hot pot, the beloved national dish.

Photo/VCG

People across China have also unleashed their creativity in shaping spicy hot pot. In the Northeast, variations include Fushun-style mixed spicy hot pot and Jilin’s chicken soup tofu skewers. In Taiyuan, Shanxi, there’s a snack called "dipping skewers"—pre-cooked skewers at five for one yuan, with a dozen sauces to choose from...

Spicy hot pot, this affordable, delicious, and endlessly inventive national dish, varies delightfully from province to province!

A guide to China’s spicy hot pot and its derivatives (partial).

Southern spicy hot pot: more than just heat!

Spicy hot pot’s nationwide journey began in the 1980s with its invention in Leshan, Sichuan. Its bold flavors and convenient format quickly made it a hit in Sichuan and Chongqing. Today, though Leshan boasts many delicacies, spicy hot pot remains a local favorite—though outsiders might mistake it for "chuanchuan xiang."

Leshan spicy hot pot, still one of the locals’ top picks.

Photo/VCG

As a wildly popular national dish, spicy hot pot has spawned countless regional variations and names. These subtle differences reflect local tastes and add to its charm.

Jingzhou (Hubei) spicy hot pot vs. Yiyang (Hunan) spicy hot pot:

Which is the best in the "Two Lakes" region?

The allure of spicy hot pot lies in its fiery, comforting flavors. A post-work or post-school stop at a street stall can melt away the day’s fatigue. In regions where spice is already a staple, this dish is especially beloved.

Jingzhou in Hubei and Yiyang in Hunan share a border, with their city centers only 200 kilometers apart. Their methods of eating malatang are also quite similar: a round pot in the middle, filled with skewers simmering continuously, ready to be picked and eaten at any time. However, there are subtle differences. For example, in Yiyang, it’s more like a hotpot-style buffet where the owner prepares a base broth tailored to individual tastes, and everyone gathers around the pot to pick what they want, creating a lively and carefree atmosphere.

In Jingzhou malatang, you don’t have to lift a finger.

To the people of Jingzhou, their malatang is their own version of Omakase—no effort required. You just shout to the owner, “Boss, three people here, two spicy broths and one non-spicy,” or “Boss, I’ll start with one fish skin, one lettuce, and two half-circles,” or “For the three of us, two portions of pork liver, divided among our bowls.” The malatang, cooked in order, is then delivered to each person’s table.

The owners and staff of Jingzhou malatang shops might have the best hearing and memory in all of Hubei. Amid the chorus of orders from customers seated around the round table, they deliver each dish flawlessly in sequence. At the same time, these shops often serve as community gossip hubs, where the staff not only listen to chatter but also offer love advice to young men and women. This is one of the charms of offline dining that takeout can’t replace.

Jingzhou malatang served in Hubei’s signature disposable paper bowls.

As a region not traditionally known for spicy food, it’s hard to immediately associate Jiangsu, Zhejiang, and Shanghai with malatang. But in fact, these areas have their own unique versions.

For example, in Quzhou and Huzhou, Zhejiang, malatang is quite distinctive. In Quzhou, meatballs, duck blood, vermicelli, taro, pork lungs, and bamboo shoot wrappers are must-orders. The cooked ingredients are brushed with sweet bean paste, drizzled with fresh chili oil, and finally sprinkled with scallions and pickled radish—spicy, sweet, and savory. Huzhou locals love duck, and after work, chopping up a duck is their version of peaceful, watery-town bliss. Perhaps because of their love for duck, they invented duck malatang, simmering duck parts and vegetables in a spicy broth for a uniquely fragrant and spicy flavor.

Huzhou’s imaginative duck malatang.

Then there’s Wuhu, a small city in southeastern Anhui on the southern bank of the Yangtze River. The ubiquitous Wuhu malatang stands out for its bright red oil—fragrant but not overly spicy—adorned with fresh green vegetables and sesame seeds, making it visually appealing. It also includes Wuhu’s locally made sweet sauce, a “stroke of genius.”

Yunnan and Guizhou border Sichuan and Chongqing, but their malatang styles are entirely different. In Yunnan, there’s a variation called “spicy vegetables,” where vegetables are blanched and then seasoned, serving as a perfect accompaniment to rice. The broth is the highlight, with refreshing ingredients like lemon adding a Dai ethnic twist.

Guizhou favors sour and spicy flavors, so in Guiyang, malatang becomes “sour-spicy hotpot.” Skewers are cooked in a red sour broth and dipped in a sauce made with chili peppers, fish mint, and mountain pepper oil—after all, in Guizhou, sour-spicy beats plain spicy.

Guiyang’s mouthwatering sour-spicy hotpot.

Moving to Jiangxi, Nanchang’s upgraded malatang is called “boiled dishes.” It sounds mild but follows Jiangxi’s tradition of extreme spiciness, with ingredients simmered in a spicy broth until deeply flavorful. Beyond the usual meatballs and vegetables, there are braised chicken feet, intestine knots, and tripe, but locals’ favorites are lotus root balls and “foot soles”—a fried bean product shaped like a foot that soaks up the broth, delivering a spicy, savory bite.

Over the past decade, people from Heilongjiang have spread their adapted Northeastern malatang nationwide, and recently, Gansu has introduced Northwestern malatang to all of China. But across the entire North, malatang and its upgraded versions are incredibly diverse.

Old-school spicy skewers, costing just a few cents per bag—a nostalgic childhood memory for Northeasterners.

Sweet and sour? Mustard flavor? Curry flavor?

Just how imaginative is malatang in the North China Plain?

Here’s something that would shock Sichuanese and stun Northeasterners: Xinxiang, Henan’s malatang is sweet and sour, with added sugar and vinegar. Pair it with a fermented flatbread for dipping, and who cares if it’s a “heresy” in the malatang world—it’s delicious!

In Shanxi, malatang naturally includes a dash of vinegar. A bowl of vermicelli with greens and tofu skin, topped with a handful of crushed peanuts, and finished with half a pot of vinegar—that’s Shanxi-style malatang.

Shanxi’s old-school malatang—vinegar is a must.

Photo/Meng Ge's Eating Vlog

In Taiyuan and other places, there is a dish called "zhan chuan" (dipped skewers). Pre-cooked skewers are sold at just 1 yuan for 5 sticks. The shop has a table with over a dozen different flavored sauces, such as mustard, curry, sour-spicy, sweet-spicy, and more. To eat, you dip the skewer into a thermal container of sauce, coating it fully—a testament to the culinary imagination of Taiyuan locals.

Taiyuan "zhan chuan" offers over a dozen sauce options.

Northwest-style spicy hot pot isn’t just found in Gansu!

In Yan’an, Shaanxi, there’s also a dish with "zhan" in its name: Yan’an "zhan zhan." However, Yan’an’s version is more similar to Leshan spicy hot pot. The broth is seasoned with cumin and various spices, requiring no oil, yet the skewers come out richly fragrant. The dipping sauce is made with vinegar broth and garlic, delivering a tangy, spicy kick with perfectly balanced flavors. The ingredients also reflect local tastes, such as potato cakes and "fen bu liu"—various snacks made from Shaanxi’s high-quality potatoes, beloved by locals.

In Ningxia, there’s a similar dish called "la hu hu," with a base also made from chili, cumin, and other spices—much spicier than Yan’an "zhan zhan." The thick, seasoned broth coats the skewers in bold, spicy flavors. Meanwhile, in Xining, Qinghai, the spicy hot pot resembles a bowl full of chili oil—fragrant, spicy, and delicious.

Ningxia "la hu hu"—spicy and flavorful.

Speaking of spicy hot pot, we can’t overlook Northeast China, the culinary hub that popularized it nationwide. The region has spawned many imaginative variations, such as Fushun spicy mix (from Liaoning), now spreading across the country with its intense sweet-sour and numbing-spicy flavors, becoming a new signature of Fushun. There’s also Northeast-style mixed spicy skewers and Jilin’s chicken-broth spicy tofu skin skewers—local snacks all inspired by spicy hot pot.

Fushun spicy mix—boldly sweet and sour.

Image credit/VCG

Over decades, spicy hot pot has swept the nation, evolving into diverse and delightful flavors—thanks to China’s abundant produce and people’s passion and creativity for food.

Street-side spicy hot pot comforts Chinese late-night cravings.

Cover image | VCG

Header image | One Meal, Seven and a Half Bowls