The Most Underrated BBQ Paradise in Northeast China: Neither Jinzhou Nor Qiqihar

Is it Jinzhou, known for its "iron skewers, lamb kebabs, garlic chili sauce, and whole garlic cloves"? Or Qiqihar, where the beef and lamb are plump and satisfying? No, no—true meat connoisseurs know that at the mouth of the Liao River lies the most underrated barbecue paradise...

Many know Panjin for its famous paddy-field crabs. Like these small but rich and flavorful crabs, Panjin is a modest city, unassuming in size but boasting a barbecue scene that embraces mountains and seas. Whether it flies in the sky, runs on the ground, or swims in the water, Panjin locals grill it over charcoal, turning it into something sweet, crispy, and fragrant.

Here, seafood from the Bohai Bay and river delicacies from the Liao River shine. Grilled river crabs, conches, clams, and eels are all incredibly fresh. Panjin also excels in meat, thanks to its proximity to domestic Wagyu production, ensuring top-quality beef that turns every meal into a full beef feast. Even pigeons take on a unique flavor when grilled by Panjin locals... Just how much culinary delight can Panjin "grill"?

The mighty Liao River flows into the sea at Panjin, its estuary broadening the range of ingredients on local tables. The freshest flavors from river and sea are always within reach. Steaming or stir-frying? Too tame for Panjin folks—their approach to seafood is bold and unapologetic.

Take the internet-famous Panjin river crabs: while outsiders steam them for a shared family meal, locals have a far more unique way—grilling them!

For Panjin kids who grew up catching crabs at dusk, grilling was the simplest way to cook. The vibrant flavors they created still make mouths water today. Some restaurants keep this tradition alive, wrapping crabs in foil and tossing them onto the grill. The smoky char adds a unique aroma. Crack open a grilled crab, and the rich, oily roe spills out—one bite is pure bliss.

Panjin’s grills feature not just common stars like oysters and scallops but also local favorites like conches, whose juices burst under high heat, lighting up the palate. Clams are grilled by the plate, their shells popping open with a satisfying crack.

Fish in Panjin thrive in the nutrient-rich waters where river meets sea, making them exceptionally plump and flavorful. While not unique to Panjin, they stand out for their superior taste.

River eels are a local obsession, especially when grilled alive with teriyaki glaze. Other oddly named fish, like crispy "clip-fish" and chewy "sweetfish" (elsewhere called "horse-step fish"), offer unique textures and flavors. Even simple grilled squid is a revelation—thick, tender, and leagues above frozen supermarket fare.

Walk Panjin’s streets, and you’ll notice "Wagyu" on every barbecue sign. Even humble eateries feature it. With domestic Wagyu farms in Dalian and Shenyang, Panjin’s meat lovers are spoiled for choice. Many beloved grill spots are in markets, some run by butchers, ensuring quality and generous portions—plates start at a hearty 400 grams.

In Panjin, the best beef is served as whole cuts. Fresh, unadulterated slices, like the prized "single tendon," cling to the plate and need only a brief grill to medium-rare perfection. Other meats are lightly seasoned to preserve their natural taste. Ribs sizzle with rich fat, heart tubes are thick and chewy, and beef brisket carries a surprising creaminess... It’s a symphony of beef that satisfies even the pickiest eaters.

Panjin’s seasoning secret lies in the dips. A juicy piece of meat gets a roll in garlic-chili wet sauce, then a coat of dry spices. Wrapped in perilla leaves with garlic and chili, each bite is a flavor explosion.

Pork gets the same royal treatment—juicy cuts, crispy intestines, and a unique grilled pigeon with paper-thin skin and tender meat. Wind-dried sausages, a nostalgic treat for Northeasterners, are grilled until they burst open, a moment of pure joy.

Beyond meat, Panjin’s side dishes are a feast themselves. Unlike Korean banchan, these are hearty enough to fill half the table: stir-fried, pan-seared, marinated, or chilled—each showcasing local produce.

Seafood isn’t just for grilling. Tiny mud snails shine in spicy stir-fries, while dried river fish fry up golden and crisp. Panjin’s version of raw marination, called "sheng lu," features crabs and shrimp in a sweet, savory brine—a surprise delight for Chaoshan foodies.

Northeastern staples hold their own: sweet-and-spicy chicken frames and feet, chilled silkworm pupae (love it or hate it), and crisp riverbank "bamboo shoots" (actually cattail roots) that dazzle raw or dressed.

Even stuffed, carb-loving Northeasterners save room for a finale—icy cold noodles in summer or steaming pearl dumpling soup in winter.

Panjin’s grills hold not just food but life’s joys and sorrows. One barbecue meal fixes everything; if not, two will.