Which Chinese Province Eats Chicken Best? Their Obsession with White-Cut Chicken Explained

White-cut chicken reigns supreme in the southern culinary world of poultry.

A truly excellent chicken must withstand the test of being white-cut!

Chicken, the most common of poultry; cutting, the most basic kitchen skill; and "white"—not just a color, a flavor, or a technique that minimizes seasoning—is the southerners' secret weapon to conquer gourmands worldwide. Whether in the south or north, whether one prefers mild or spicy, white-cut chicken is an irresistible delicacy.

In people's minds, white-cut chicken sets the highest standard for "chicken essence," yet it is also the most accessible precisely because of this standard. When unsure what to choose, white-cut chicken is the best choice that requires no further deliberation.

The universally acknowledged Cantonese saying, "No banquet is complete without chicken," is both the destiny of every chicken in Guangdong and the unwavering culinary nostalgia of Cantonese people across landscapes and time.

To a Cantonese, the most basic criterion for whether a white-cut chicken is worth craving is whether it has "chicken essence." This essence, mystically speaking, reflects Cantonese pursuit of natural flavors; practically speaking, it’s just that Guangdong’s "Sanhuang chickens" are inherently exquisite.

In Guangdong’s lingering heat, the compact-feathered Sanhuang chickens resemble land-bound sponges. They absorb the moisture of the mountains and the warmth of the sun. Small yet bustling, they roam like extensions of Lingnan, feeding on native grains and drinking local water, inseparable from Guangdong’s flora.

Whether the earliest famed breeds like Qingyuan chicken, Zhanjiang chicken, and Huizhou bearded chicken, or later stars like Zhaoqing Xinghua chicken, Xinyi Huaixiang chicken, and Zhongshan Shalan chicken—or Jiangcun yellow chicken and Fengshan chicken—Guangdong’s chickens are inseparable from its landscapes.

No extra techniques, no masking by other ingredients, no steaming haze, no risk of scalding. To preserve the chicken’s freshness, Cantonese cooks time the boiling precisely, unwilling to let it linger a second longer. Though "a hint of red in the bone" signifies perfect tenderness, the faintest trace of gaminess remains a regret for some.

Having meticulously controlled every step from raising to boiling for the sake of "chicken essence," how could the final step falter? Garlic dispels gaminess but overpowers; chili works but clashes with Cantonese tastes. Instead, the often-frustrating local ginger—crushed with a knife, its juice extracted—adds no heat, removes gaminess, and never steals the spotlight.

Ginger paste paired with fresh shallots or scallions, lightly simmered in chicken broth, pre-connects the aromatics to the meat, while a drizzle of peanut oil unlocks the gate to banishing gaminess. Though white-cut chicken with ginger-scallion dip and the soy-sauce-cilantro-shallot-garlic version each have merits, Cantonese diners always recall their grandmothers’ touch when the dip arrives.

Not all white-cut chickens carry the bond of ginger-scallion paste; many prefer sand ginger paste (Zhanjiang folks: Who? Who’s calling me?). Beloved by Zhanjiang locals, sand ginger paste mixed with soy sauce and peanut oil—or briefly heated with oil before adding soy—coats the tender chicken in a dip where "home flavor" meets "hometown taste," an unbeatable pairing.

Not all chickens focus on "diving." Hakka people in Huizhou devised a trio of boiling, salting, and steaming to lock in freshness. Unlike Cantonese white-cut chicken’s precision, Hakka versions balance salt-dried texture with steam-induced tenderness—fully cooked yet brimming with essence.

In sweltering air, a whisper of coolness and a trace of chicken essence form many Cantonese children’s first taste of life’s flavors. As a banquet staple, white-cut chicken appears at Guangdong’s hundred-day celebrations as often as red envelopes.

Without it, occasions like Spring Festival, birthdays, or weddings feel incomplete. Even in hard times, the usually restrained Liang Qichao declared, "If ten yuan buys an acre of land or a chicken, I’d rather eat the chicken."

Nearly every Guangdong city boasts a hometown-proud breed: Zhanjiang’s white-cut chicken must use Zhanjiang chicken; Huizhou’s prefers bearded chicken; Zhaoqing’s demands Xinghua chicken… Who can say whether Cantonese crave "chicken essence" or the bone-deep nostalgia when facing a plate?

A land’s essence stays unique, as does a family’s palate. Hainan, home to Wenchang chicken, has its own "white-cut path." In quality, Wenchang and Qingyuan chickens rival each other, but to Hainanese, white-cut chicken with glossy chicken rice is as essential as summer’s cooling qingbuliang—a taste forever craved.

Though raising chickens is routine for farmers, only Wenchang chickens have their fates mapped before moving: this one for New Year’s Eve white-cut, that one for Lunar New Year’s Day, the last for Lantern Festival… Each bird’s role is crystal clear.

Home-raised plump white-cut chicken, boiled and sliced, pairs with sand ginger paste, sweet chili sauce, red vinegar, or kalamansi juice—the latter infusing dips with tropical zest. Served with Hainanese winter vegetable soup, also chicken-broth-based, it maximizes flavor. If Hainan’s scenery makes it a paradise, Wenchang white-cut chicken is its soulful hometown taste.

Hainanese chicken rice, now Singapore’s "national dish," first emerged there. Descendants of "Nanyang" migrants adapted hometown methods, tweaking white-cut Wenchang chicken and ancestral chicken rice into its prototype. Swapping dips for Southeast Asian dark soy and chili sauce—the former rich with coconut sugar, the latter tangy with fish sauce—it swept the region.

Regardless of its actual connection to Hainan, the name "Hainan" has traveled the world alongside this tender, white chicken. It is no longer just a local delicacy but more like a "White-Cut Chicken Road" composed of countless plates of chicken rice, carrying the nostalgia of overseas Chinese for their homeland.

Bordering Guangdong and facing Hainan, Guangxi also produces excellent chickens. With diverse poultry breeds, varying natural environments, and unique ethnic culinary traditions, Guangxi people have much to offer in the art of chicken cuisine.

In Nandan, Hechi, lush forests conceal human footsteps but create a paradise for Nandan Yao chickens. Clean water, fresh air, and ample exercise give their meat a firm yet tender texture, neither dry nor greasy. Just a few slices of old ginger and a pinch of salt are enough to preserve the wild, natural sweetness of these chickens.

In Dahua, southern Hechi, the Qibainong chicken, celebrated in Bunu Yao mythology, is another star of Guangxi's poultry world. Though roaming the mountainous forests, these chickens boast snowflake-like plumage. Raised on hemp, rice, and corn, their dense meat often takes center stage at banquets.

In Hakka households of Hezhou, the Salt-Wine Chicken, seasoned only with salt and rice wine, is Guangxi's take on white-cut chicken. The aromatic rice wine replaces plain water, while salt adds a subtle savoriness. Though the chicken flavor may not be as pure, its fragrance is enough to captivate the hospitable people of Hezhou.

Unlike Guangdong, Guangxi, and Hainan, which focus on the chicken's natural taste, Zhejiang, Shanghai, and Sichuan emphasize seasoning, redefining "chicken flavor" with bold accompaniments.

Shaoxing’s wine lovers infuse chicken with their favorite aroma. Tender boiled chicken is sliced and soaked in a chilled marinade of Shaoxing huangjiu and chicken broth. The pale-yellow brine enhances the meat’s succulence, while the wine’s crispness neutralizes any gaminess—its rich aroma intoxicates both the chicken and the diner.

Shanghai’s White-Cut Chicken uses local Sanhuang chickens, paired with a custom-blended soy sauce. Obsessed with scallion oil, Shanghainese also created the elegant Scallion-Oil Chicken. For those who dislike scallions, it’s a dish to avoid; but for locals, chicken isn’t truly chicken without that oniony kick.

In Jiangxi, scallions are swapped for fermented beans, and boiling gives way to steaming, yet the Yiyang chicken retains its regional richness. Fujian’s Fragrant Dew Chicken replaces the "dew" with cloves and sorghum wine, using the local Hetian breed.

In Sichuan and Chongqing, broths can’t satisfy impatient gourmands. To win over these picky eaters, chickens unite to create layered white-cut challenges. Mouthwatering Chicken is the first hurdle—boiled more casually, sliced neatly, and drenched in classic chili oil, it’s a bold, colorful twist on the dish.

Strange-Flavor Chicken is the second challenge. "Strange" here means a clever mix of salt, sugar, vinegar, chili, and Sichuan pepper. The boiled, sliced chicken is dipped freely into this eclectic sauce—a seemingly chaotic yet innovative pursuit of flavor.

Bang Bang Chicken, Hundred-Flavors Chicken, or the purely meat-and-offerings Pot Chicken—all variations of Mouthwatering Chicken—are Sichuan’s secret weapons to win hearts. As for the overly minced Chicken Tofu, it might just be a playful Easter egg for gourmets.

"Raise chickens, feed them well, and cook them when plump." If the simplest white-cut method can evoke the truest taste of home for southerners—memories of endless drumsticks and familial love—then they have every reason to cherish it for life. Landscapes flavor the dish; sliced chicken comforts the homesick.

Text | Ye Santu, ZXZ

Header image | Visual China