This Staple Carbs Delight Has Been Winning Chinese Hearts for 3000 Years

"A soft, multi-layered structure filled with a rich wheat flavor," guess a Chinese delicacy—

This description comes from an article published a few days ago by a renowned foreign media outlet, which summarized "the 50 best breads in the world," including Chinese shaobing. The article provides more details about shaobing, such as "the finished shaobing can have up to 18 layers" and "the bread can be filled with black sesame paste, smoked meat, or Sichuan peppercorns," overflowing with praise from international friends for Chinese shaobing.

Shaobing, a delicious treat found on every street corner in China.

But to this definition, shaobing might respond: you’ve oversimplified me. Even narrowly defined, Chinese delicacies with "shaobing" in their names number far more than 50. Examples include Huangqiao shaobing from Taizhou, Jiangsu; sesame-covered jiao gai shaobing from Dengfeng, Henan; and mahua shaobing from Tianjin—ranging from savory to sweet, each with its own unique flavor.

Broadly speaking, the scope of shaobing is even wider. There are thin Hubei Jingzhou gong'an guokui and Sichuan guokui stuffed with cold jelly, as well as Fujian Jian'ou guangbing, Hohhot beizi from Inner Mongolia, Shanxi stone-baked flatbread, and Xinjiang naan, all varying in shape and form.

Sichuan guokui stuffed with cold jelly stands out as uniquely distinctive in China.

Shaobing also vividly reflects regional taste preferences and cooking methods. For instance, Beijingers love sesame paste, leading to the creation of sugar huoshao with sesame paste. In Jiangsu and Zhejiang, dried mustard greens are popular, resulting in dried mustard greens shaobing found everywhere. Jiangsu, a major crab-producing province, offers crab-shell yellow shaobing, which resembles crab shells and roe in appearance, though it contains no actual crab.

The universe of Chinese shaobing is far more diverse and expansive than you could imagine.

Beijing sugar huoshao, Zhoucun shaobing, Hohhot beizi...

Northern shaobing: hearty and substantial!

As early as a century ago, the Chinese had their own definition. Wang Sanpin of the Ming Dynasty wrote in "Investigations of Ancient and Modern Things": "All foods made from dough are called 'bing,' so those baked and eaten are called 'shaobing'..." In other words, shaobing is a category of baked or griddled dough foods. This form of food not only has its own pure aroma but also serves as an excellent base to highlight the flavors of other ingredients—a key difference from carbs like mantou or noodles.

Shaobing actually predates the Ming Dynasty. In 1991, several pieces of flatbread were unearthed in the Hami region of Xinjiang, dating back about 3,000 years. Scholars speculate these were baked, making them the prototype of Xinjiang naan. From this perspective, this could be considered the earliest Chinese imagination of shaobing 3,000 years ago. Over millennia, shaobing has evolved endlessly, witnessing countless historical moments and earning the title of China’s carb king.

Xinjiang naan, Shaanxi mo, Inner Mongolia beizi...

Just how many shapes do northwestern shaobing come in?

The story of shaobing begins in Xinjiang. Without visiting Xinjiang, one can never truly grasp the variety of naan there. Across Xinjiang’s 1.6649 million square kilometers, everyone loves naan—where there are people, there is naan. Street-side naan shops bake and sell fresh naan in plain flavors or varieties like rose, nuts, chili, and lamb.

Statistics show there are roughly 300 types of naan in Xinjiang.

Naan is delicious on its own, but Xinjiang locals have taken its culinary potential further. In restaurants, naan can be topped with stir-fried meat to make naan bao rou (naan-wrapped meat), cut into diamonds for stir-fried meat with naan, or added to Xinjiang rice noodles. But the ultimate way to enjoy it is naan bao nangkeng rou: large skewers of meat roasted in a tandoor and stuffed into naan—a sublime Xinjiang delicacy.

In Xinjiang, naan comes in countless forms.

Left: Xinjiang stir-fried rice noodles; Right: Naan-wrapped meat.

Moving east from Xinjiang, shaobing takes on a different character. The bread baked in ovens is called "mo" by Gansu and Shaanxi locals. Stuffed with minced meat or simmered in lamb soup, it becomes the iconic northwestern dishes: roujiamo (meat-stuffed mo) and yangrou paomo (lamb soup with mo).

People from Hohhot, Inner Mongolia, call their beloved baked cakes "beizi," with over 50 varieties available. The most basic is the white beizi, layered with sugar filling, offering a crispy and sweet taste. Other types include brown sugar beizi and red bean paste beizi. Stuffed with sausage and eggs and drizzled with meat broth, it’s the flavor Hohhot natives miss most when away from home.

Golden Hohhot beizi.

The Central Plains, a major grain-producing region and a holy land for wheat-based foods, inspires reverence for the aroma of its baked cakes after just one taste.

First, Beijing’s sugar huoshao, often overlooked compared to dishes like lu zhu, douzhi, or chao gan, blends sesame paste and brown sugar inside a baked cake. When roasted, the sugar huoshao turns deep brown, with the filling oozing from cracks, stimulating taste buds with its sweet and fragrant aroma.

Beijingers’ love for sesame paste also shines in their baked cakes.

As a hub for sesame paste lovers, Beijing also has a sesame paste baked cake. Fresh out of the oven, it’s crispy to the touch; when cooled, it’s paired with braised pork and lamb soup, forming a simple yet hearty Beijing breakfast.

Baked cake with lamb soup—a classic Beijing breakfast combo.

Next door in Tianjin, baked cakes go beyond sesame. Locals imagine fillings like hawthorn, strawberry, sweet orange, red bean paste, mixed nuts, and even pineapple, turning the baked cake into both a staple and a dessert.

The confidence of Beijingers and Tianjiners in loading up on sesame comes from Henan, China’s largest sesame-producing province. Here, baked cakes are generously coated with sesame on both sides, offering a naturally sweet and fragrant bite.

Henan sesame baked cakes—where sesame is never skimped.

In this wheat-rich province, baked cakes are as hearty as they come!

Shanxi and Shandong, both wheat powerhouses, boast diverse baked cake styles, each with distinct characteristics.

Take Shanxi, where baked cakes emphasize flakiness, especially in southern Shanxi’s oil-rich pastries. Triangular, round, or oblong, each shape offers a unique taste—savory or sweet—paired perfectly with tofu pudding or sesame oil soup. Notably, Huozhou features a special baked cake seasoned with fennel, oil, and salt for a distinctive aroma.

In Yuncheng, Shanxi, there are also ring-shaped niuqu mo.

In Shandong, while Tai’an’s flaky huoshao resembles Shanxi’s style, Zhoucun baked cakes steal the spotlight—paper-thin, sesame-covered, and crackling when folded, with a flavor that deepens with every chew.

Fujian’s guangbing, Zhejiang’s dried vegetable baked cakes, Sichuan’s guokui.

Southern baked cakes—both staple and snack!

From Western Region’s "hubing" to Central Plains’ baked cakes, the North perfected them as a staple. In the South, they defy expectations—serving as meals, desserts, sweet, savory, or even spicy.

Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Shanghai, and Anhui—baked cakes aren’t just about dried vegetables!

Dried vegetable baked cakes are a shared memory for people in these regions. The oil-infused dried vegetables release an irresistible aroma in high-temperature ovens, filling the alleys of Jiangnan’s water towns with their fragrance.

Although all are versions of dried mustard green pancakes, their shapes vary widely across regions, showcasing local creativity. In Hangzhou, Zhejiang, the pancakes are thin, with the filling seamlessly blended into the dough, and the dried mustard greens exude a charred aroma. In Jinyun, Lishui, Zhejiang, the pancakes are smaller and thicker, offering a hearty bite. Moving to Anhui, the Huangshan version is even more petite, featuring dried mustard greens mixed with diced fatty pork and a hint of spice, making it particularly ingenious.

Various forms of dried mustard green pancakes.

But in this widely recognized culinary paradise, delicious pancakes aren’t limited to the dried mustard green variety. Jiangsu alone boasts over thirteen types. Nanjing, famous for its roast duck, offers duck oil pancakes—crispy from the duck fat and infused with duck aroma despite containing no meat. Taizhou’s Huangqiao pancakes, though small, were once served at the founding ceremony’s state banquet. Pancakes can be savory or sweet, but in Dongtai, the "Dragon-Tiger Battle" pancake combines both: scallion-lard filling clashes with sugar for a uniquely delightful taste.

How many ways can Sichuan and Chongqing-style guokui be eaten?

If you ask Sichuanese or Chongqingers what a pancake is, they’ll answer: guokui. But if you ask what guokui is, they might give you dozens of answers.

Juntun guokui is likely the most widespread Sichuan-style version—a layered, crispy pastry first pan-fried then baked, with black or white sesame seeds distinguishing pork from beef fillings, delivering a fragrant crunch. But locals might prefer the molten brown sugar guokui from their neighborhood, where hot syrup oozes between two dough layers for a blissfully sweet bite.

For both flavor and spectacle, Nanchong guokui stands out. The dough is rhythmically beaten with a rolling pin before baking, creating a chewy, hollow, and crispy texture. Yet the baked guokui is only half the experience—it’s a carb-loaded feast when stuffed with anything from sliced pig ears and shredded potatoes to cold noodles or jelly, offering an utterly satisfying meal.

With their simple preparation, pancakes are perhaps one of China’s most ubiquitous foods. Paired with local ingredients, each region shines with its own version, continuously filling daily life with the comforting aroma of carbs.