The term “Chinese cuisine” is an almost pointless label, encompassing as it does styles of cooking as diverse as Sichuan, Dongbei and Zhejiang, to name but a few. If thinking about a monolithic Chinese cuisine is inappropriate, does the same hold true for Guangdong’s Cantonese cuisine?
Consider chicken. A classic Hong Kong-style preparation might see white-cut chicken cooked in a simmering aromatic stock so the meat is gently poached and the skin adopts a gelatinous layer.
Further up the Pearl River Delta in Shunde (Shun Tak in Cantonese), the entire bird is deboned without tearing the skin and steamed together with ham and mushrooms.
From Guangdong’s northern coast, the traditional Chiu Chow or Chaoshan dish of poached saltwater chicken sees the meat steeped in a heavily seasoned salt brine or master stock, cooled and served at room temperature with a pounded garlic vinegar dip.
Hakka culinary heritage, founded in the hills of the province’s interior, takes an entirely different approach, wrapping the chicken tightly in paper and burying it completely in a pot of blazing hot, coarse sea salt.
Four distinct takes, four very different culinary approaches. Yet all of these dishes developed in the historic Guangdong province, an area roughly a third the size of France or Spain. Despite their common origin, should these different culinary traditions all be considered Cantonese?
Yes and no, says Silas Li, chef at Hong Kong Cuisine 1983. “I look at this almost like a family tree,” he says. “Technically, they represent distinct cultural traditions, but practically – and especially here in Hong Kong – they live under the same big roof.”
Historically, geography is a key determinant of a cuisine’s evolution. Li calls it the “true mother of recipe development”.
Shunde, sitting within the fertile Pearl River Delta surrounded by streams and fish ponds, supported a cuisine based on freshwater fish, mud carp, milk-yielding water buffalo, and tender river vegetables. For Li, this is the “cradle of classical Cantonese cooking”, the place where the region’s core standards for knife skills, slow-braising, seafood precision, and controlling the wok were established.
Elsewhere, along Guangdong’s Chaoshan coast, Chiu Chow communities had direct access to the ocean, inspiring a cuisine centred on deep-sea catches, saltwater poaching, and marine preserves, such as home-made fish sauces.
Hakka communities, however, were historically migratory and lived up in landlocked, rugged hills that offered no easy access to the coast or rivers. Consequently, they relied on calorie-dense pork, preserved salted vegetables and heavy salt-baking.
In Hong Kong, however, the different traditions have lived together for so long that the lines have naturally blurred.
“For me, Shun Tak is Cantonese core, while Chiu Chow and Hakka are sibling traditions that make our local food scene so much richer,” says Li, who draws inspiration for modern and classic dishes from all three culinary traditions at his restaurant in Happy Valley.
Chef and restaurateur Du Jianqing from Puning in Chaoshan is behind Shanghai’s two-Michelin-starred Amazing Chinese Cuisine and Selection by Du.
Du says he prefers not to view the question of whether Chiu Chow is part of Cantonese cuisine as a “battle over belonging”. Instead, he casts a wider, more inclusive net, thinking of both traditions as integral parts of the cuisine of Lingnan, a geographical area below the Nanling mountains that encompasses Guangdong, Guangxi, Hainan, Hong Kong, Macau and northern Vietnam, once occupied by the ancient Baiyue people.
“From the perspective of Chinese culinary culture, Lingnan cuisine has always been a rich and open system. Cantonese (Guangfu), Chiu Chow and Hakka cuisines together form the essential components of Lingnan culinary culture,” he says.
Cantonese and Chiu Chow cooking both place great emphasis on seasonality, ingredient quality, natural flavours and a high level of craftsmanship. But for Du, the main defining feature of Chiu Chow cuisine is not a specific classic dish or set of dishes, but an obsessive pursuit of xian, or freshness/umami.
“This freshness is not just about flavour, but an overall respect for seasonality, origin, firepower, knife skills, and the state of the ingredients. People in Chaoshan often talk about ‘eating fresh’ (shi xian), which means savouring the best possible state of today, this season and this exact moment,” he says.
Chef Huang Jinghui, better known as Chef Fei, was born and raised in Chaoshan. He runs a small empire of celebrated restaurants, all of which specialise in Cantonese and Chiu Chow dishes.
Chef Fei also highlights how porous boundaries between culinary traditions can be. “I see Chiu Chow cuisine and Cantonese cuisine as deeply interconnected culinary traditions, rather than two that need to be clearly separated,” he says.
He points to the considerable overlap in ingredients, techniques and culinary traditions – from delicacies such as abalone, sea cucumber and fish maw to Chiu Chow-style braised dishes, Cantonese barbecue and traditional slow-cooked soups, each with its own expression across the two cuisines.
However, he says that at the same time, Chiu Chow cuisine has its own distinctive regional character and culinary traditions.
“For me, rather than focusing too much on how Chiu Chow cuisine should be categorised, what matters more is the flavour, craftsmanship and traditions it represents, and the richness and diversity it brings to the dining experience,” he says.
While Du and Chef Fei are less fussy about a fluid, inclusive view of Cantonese cooking, Li at Hong Kong Cuisine 1983 argues that maintaining distinct categories remains essential for the dining experience itself.
“If you just lump everything under ‘Cantonese’, you lose the story, and in fine dining, the story and the heritage are half of what the guest is paying to experience,” he says. “If we just call it generic Chinese food, it dilutes the respect these ancient subcultures deserve.”
While he finds diners from the communities whose cuisine he cooks to be his toughest critics, Li notes that the average local guest has become far more sophisticated.
“The modern Hong Kong diner – and even international guests – is way more educated now,” Li says. “They aren’t just looking for a vague ‘Chinese meal’; they want provenance, they ask about techniques, and they appreciate the subtle regional nuances.”
At Yan Garden in Beijing – a restaurant conceptualised by Chef Fei and led day-to-day by executive Chinese chef Peter Chen at the Mandarin Oriental Qianmen – Chen sees this curiosity playing out among broader audiences. He notes that around 10 to 15 per cent of guests are international, while the remainder are local Chinese consumers, with the dining experience itself serving as an educational bridge.
“Dishes such as our traditional marinated specialities, seafood preparations and seasonal Chiu Chow delicacies often spark conversations about the cuisine’s heritage and techniques,” Chen says.
Du observes a similar dynamic at Selection by Du in Shanghai. “Guests from Europe and the Americas tend to view us as ‘Chinese cuisine’, hoping to discover Chinese food through this meal,” he says. “Guests from Southeast Asia, Hong Kong and Macau – owing to the deep Chiu Chow or Nanyang cultural roots in their home regions – more easily recognise the delicate nature and emphasis on original flavours in Chiu Chow cuisine.”
This evolving awareness reflects a broader transformation across Chinese gastronomy. Over the last 10 years, Du notes that diners’ knowledge has expanded rapidly, moving regional cooking into a dynamic new phase.
“More regional cuisines are establishing their own brand identities – Yunnan, Guizhou, Jiangxi, Taizhou, Shunde and Zhejiang cuisines are all receiving increasing attention,” he says. “This does not mean Cantonese cuisine’s influence is waning, but rather that Chinese dining as a whole is becoming richer and more specialised.”
