Why Don’t Even Shandong Locals Eat Lu Cuisine?

Earlier this year, if it weren't for the viral "Braised Intestines" clip from *Top Chef*, this crown jewel of Shandong cuisine might still be languishing unnoticed on some restaurant menu.

This serves as a metaphor, much like the current subdued fate of Shandong cuisine itself.

The internet-famous "Braised Intestines" clip.

Is it a case of people "failing to recognize Mount Tai"? Not entirely. Even in Shandong, the heartland of Shandong cuisine, locals rarely visit proper Shandong restaurants. Few can name its signature dishes, let alone critique these "gourmet classics" at the dining table.

Why don’t Shandong locals eat Shandong cuisine? Once the imperial court’s banquet favorite, has it truly declined, or are we simply biased and misinformed?

In 2022, Chen Xiaoqing commented under a post: "Shandong cuisine is Shandong cuisine, but local Shandong dishes are something else." This captures a peculiar phenomenon.

Compared to Sichuan or Hunan, where their eponymous cuisines dominate the streets, Shandong has surprisingly few restaurants branded as "Shandong cuisine." In Jinan, for instance, eateries often label themselves as serving "Jinan dishes" or simply "local fare."

Sweet and Sour Carp, a Shandong cuisine masterpiece.

"Lu" is Shandong’s abbreviation, so naturally, "Lu cuisine" is assumed to mean Shandong dishes.

Yet, stereotypes reduce Shandong’s culinary identity to scallion pancakes, braised chicken, or *bazhi* pork. Though born of the same land, these dishes are far from the orthodox Shandong cuisine tradition.

*Bazhi* pork, a staple of everyday Shandong dining.

Photo/HuiTu Net

Locally, Shandong cuisine splits into three branches: Jinan, Jiaodong, and Confucian Mansion dishes. The first two reflect the rivalry between inland Jinan and coastal Qingdao—one excels in mountain delicacies, the other in seafood. Confucian Mansion cuisine embodies Confucian culinary rituals. All three have endured centuries of refinement.

A Shandong seafood feast,

rustic yet bold.

Over 2,000 years ago, Confucius laid down dietary principles here, like "No limit to refinement in food, no limit to delicacy in mincing" and the "Thirteen Taboos" in *The Analects*. Such ideals elevated standards for ingredients, knife skills, and techniques. By the Han and Tang dynasties, Shandong’s elite families flaunted status through lavish meals—fresh, premium ingredients layered with complex flavors.

Fortunately, Shandong’s bounty met their demands. Its plains, hills, and Yellow River-fed lands, plus the Jiaodong peninsula’s coastal riches, allowed aristocratic tables to feature luxuries like sea cucumbers and Yellow River carp while others struggled for basics.

Scallion-Braised Sea Cucumber, a Shandong classic.

By the Tang dynasty, Shandong cuisine’s techniques matured. Duan Chengshi, a Linzi native, wrote in *Miscellaneous Morsels from Youyang*: "Nothing is inedible—only fire control and balanced flavors matter." Such insight came from his privileged upbringing (his father was a chancellor with a brigade of specialized chefs). For centuries, Shandong cuisine remained an elite indulgence.

During the Ming and Qing dynasties, it reached Beijing, with Confucian Mansion dishes trickling into official and merchant households. Its precision and opulence crowned it the definitive "official cuisine," unrivaled across northern China. Given this history, its absence from commoners’ tables is hardly surprising.

Why hasn't Lu cuisine gained popularity in its home province?

Meticulously prepared with premium ingredients, Lu cuisine should theoretically have a large following. Yet why hasn't it achieved the expected popularity?

The very "Northeastern-style" candied sweet potatoes,

First, we must consider Shandong's abundant natural resources. While they provide a steady supply of ingredients for Lu cuisine, they also give rise to numerous "competing dishes." When discussing Shandong cuisine, let's take a broader look across the Qilu region:

Western Shandong, home to Weishan Lake, boasts extremely rich aquatic resources. Spicy carp, Weishan Lake floating fish soup, and turtle stew with peony bark can all be staple dishes on local tables. In central Shandong, where Jinan is located, a tender, fatty yet non-greasy braised pork belly (Bazhi meat) drizzled with gravy over rice might be more appealing to the average person. In southern Shandong, the rustic boldness of Mengshan whole lamb and Yimeng stir-fried chicken, along with village banquet dishes like crispy pork, tile-block fish, and steamed bowl chicken, further suppress the "expansion" of Lu cuisine.

Yimeng stir-fried chicken must be eaten with cornbread.

Moving eastward across the map, Zibo and Weifang also have their local specialties. Zibo's culinary fame needs no elaboration—anyone on social media has heard of Zibo barbecue, as well as Boshan dishes like fried pork, glazed sweet potatoes, and tofu boxes. As for Weifang, the "Chao Tian Guo" (soft pancakes rolled with pork offal) can be found on every street corner. Further east lie Qingdao, Yantai, and other coastal cities. Affordable and readily available seafood requires only simple steaming or boiling to deliver a satisfying meal. Clearly, it’s no easy task for Lu cuisine to carve out a niche in these areas.

Once a frequent dish on Emperor Qianlong's table,

Tofu boxes are anything but simple.

Beyond ingredients, Lu cuisine's complex techniques and resistance to industrialization have also greatly limited its broader appeal. As the saying goes: "The actor’s voice, the chef’s broth." In the eyes of Lu cuisine masters, broth is the source of all umami. Before cooking, one must prepare "milky broth," "clear broth," or "three-layer broth."

Milky broth is made from hen, pork knuckle, and pork bones, resulting in a bright, savory liquid. Clear broth adds minced chicken breast and fatty duck to the base, yielding a salty-umami foundation. Three-layer broth, a concept from Confucian Mansion cuisine, blends the strengths of both to create a rich, mellow flavor. With broth, dishes gain their soul. Clear broth elevates dishes like swallow's nest with willow leaves and "family reunion" stew. Milky broth enhances dishes such as milky broth with cattail shoots, eight-treasure stuffed chicken, and double-crisp soup.

Milky broth with cattail shoots—delicate and refreshing.

In terms of cooking methods, Lu cuisine is a comprehensive master, employing techniques like quick-frying, bursting, stir-frying, steaming, pan-frying, braising, deep-frying, and stewing, almost omnipresent. Take "Nine-Turn Pork Intestines" as an example: it undergoes washing, stuffing, boiling, steaming, blanching, frying, and braising to achieve a balance of sweet, sour, bitter, spicy, and salty flavors.

Among these techniques, Lu cuisine excels particularly in "burst-frying." Oil-burst, sauce-burst, coriander-burst, scallion-burst, salt-burst... Under high heat, ingredients are quickly seared, preserving their original flavors while rapidly blending with seasonings. This demands exceptional skill from chefs. In an era that prioritizes speed, relies on MSG, and serves reheated semi-finished dishes, Lu cuisine's "decline" is hardly surprising.

A "home-style dish" that tests a chef's skill to the extreme.

Photo by Jinniu Shanren, Image / Tuchong Creative

Of course, another major factor constraining Lu cuisine's development is its relatively high cost. Zibo barbecue’s popularity stems not only from its decent taste but also its affordability—just 30-50 RMB per person for a satisfying meal. But with the same budget, options shrink significantly in a Lu cuisine restaurant. To win over the masses, the ultimate solution may still lie in offering better value.

Shandong locals don’t eat Lu cuisine because Lu cuisine belongs to the world.

One might wonder: Given this, how has Lu cuisine earned its reputation as the leader of China’s "Eight Great Cuisines"? The answer lies in its influence on other regional cuisines.

Beijing cuisine, for instance, owes much to Lu cuisine. As noted in the book *Dining in the Imperial Court*: "When the Ming dynasty moved its capital to Beijing, most imperial chefs came from Shandong, spreading Shandong flavors through both court and common kitchens." From then on, Lu cuisine dominated Beijing’s culinary scene. Of the city’s historic "Eight Great Restaurants," seven specialized in Lu cuisine—a testament to its impact.

The seemingly ordinary Shandong snack, Youxuan, has surprisingly been included in the "Intangible Cultural Heritage" list.

It blends and preserves the aromatic combination of northern flour and oil.

Beyond the traditional dishes of Lu cuisine, Jing cuisine has also introduced innovations. For example, dishes like Jingjiang Rousi (Pork Strips in Sweet Bean Sauce) and Jiaoliu Wanzi (Crispy Fried Meatballs). However, these dishes are essentially variations and extensions of the "Jiangbao" (sauce-fried) cooking method. Neighboring Tianjin is similarly influenced, with dishes like Zengbeng Liyu (Crispy Fried Carp) comparable to Sweet and Sour Carp, and Laobao San (Stir-Fried Trio) or Guota Sanyang (Pan-Fried Trio) traceable to Lu cuisine. If one refuses to call it imitation, it might as well be termed a tribute to Lu cuisine.

Lu cuisine holds significant status not only in the north but also in the south. Not long ago, chef and food blogger Wang Gang traveled from Sichuan to Shandong to learn Lu cuisine, which speaks volumes. From a dish perspective, Kung Pao Chicken exists in both Sichuan and Shandong cuisines. Its origin, however, lies in Lu cuisine's Jiangbao Jiding (Sauce-Fried Chicken Dices), later refined and popularized by Ding Baozhen, a Qing-dynasty governor of Shandong and later Sichuan. Today, it is a staple on overseas Chinese restaurant menus, often alongside General Tso's Chicken.

In fact, traces of Lu cuisine have long permeated everyday home cooking. Many home-style dishes inherit their flavors and techniques from Lu cuisine. Some might wonder why they’ve never heard this before. Consider dishes like Culiu Muxu (Vinegar-Fried Eggs with Wood Ear Mushrooms), Youmen Daxia (Braised Prawns), Ganshao Yu (Dry-Braised Fish), Baochao Yaohua (Stir-Fried Kidney Flowers), and Sixi Wanzi (Four-Joy Meatballs)—all carry Lu cuisine’s legacy. In other words, people might be eating Lu cuisine without realizing it.

While some dismiss Lu cuisine as declining, their daily meals likely fall within its culinary system. Shandong locals, however, prefer not to boast about it. Beyond "high cuisine," Lu cuisine has long been deeply rooted in everyday life. Perhaps influenced by Confucian moderation, Lu cuisine avoids flaunting itself, leading to occasional oversight.

Street food in Shandong.

Now, if someone asks why Shandong people don’t eat Lu cuisine, the answer is clearer: it’s not dislike but deep affection, and they continue enriching Shandong’s culinary culture with more delicacies. You might think you’ve never had Lu cuisine, but in reality, it’s everywhere on the dining table.

Cover image | Visual China

Unsigned image source | Visual China

This article is original content from [Didiao Fengwu].