Eating in Xi'an
Shaanxi Food Briefing
When people think of Shaanxi cuisine, their minds often fill with images of chewy noodles drenched in tangy sauces, fiery oil-splashed biangbiang noodles, savory minced meat-topped soups, crispy meat-stuffed buns, and breads soaked in rich broths or baked on hot stones. Though these dishes go by different names, they all share one foundation—wheat. But why has this staple, perfected into sour, spicy, and hearty creations, become the soul of Shaanxi’s food culture? The answer lies in the land itself.Stretching across central and western China, Shaanxi’s landscape unfolds in three distinct layers: the windswept Loess Plateau to the north, the fertile Guanzhong Plain at its heart, and the lush Qinling-Bashan Mountains in the south. Among these, the Guanzhong Plain stands as a cradle of agriculture. For over 4,000 years, stories have celebrated Hou Ji, the mythical "Father of Farming," who taught people to cultivate crops here. This legacy, recognized as part of Shaanxi’s cultural heritage, took root in soil shaped by ancient rivers and loess deposits—a perfect home for wheat. Eight major waterways, poetically called "the eight rivers embracing Chang’an" in historical texts, weave through the plain, nourishing golden fields under a climate that gifts farmers over 200 frost-free days each year. It’s no wonder Shaanxi became China’s wheat powerhouse, earning Xi’an, its capital, the playful title "Carb Capital of the World."
As the provincial heart, Xi’an naturally became the stage where Shaanxi’s wheat-driven culinary traditions blossomed into something extraordinary. In December 2017, this status reached new heights when Xi’an joined Yangzhou as one of China’s only two cities designated a "City of Gastronomy" by the World Federation of Chinese Catering Industries. The honor didn’t come by chance. Xi’an’s food story is woven into its 3,000-year history as a 13-dynasty capital and the starting point of the Silk Road. Long before globalization became a buzzword, the city’s markets buzzed with traders exchanging Chinese noodles and tofu-making skills for foreign treasures like watermelons and coriander. Today, dishes like the meat-stuffed Roujiamo and lamb-broth-soaked Paomo still carry whispers of those ancient exchanges, acting as edible ambassadors along modern China’s Belt and Road Initiative.
But Xi’an’s culinary power isn’t just about the past. Walk its streets today, and you’ll find breakfast stalls steaming with freshly pressed noodles, night markets sizzling with cumin-dusted kebabs, and food districts blending time-honored recipes with bold new twists. The local government fuels this vibrancy through projects like "Xi’an Breakfast Promotion" and dedicated gourmet zones, ensuring that every bite tells a story—one where fertile plains meet royal kitchens, where Silk Road spices dance with hometown flavors, and where a simple wheat stalk grows into a feast fit for both emperors and everyday food lovers. In Xi’an, every meal is a reminder that to taste this city is to taste the very soul of China itself.
Famous Local Food
Pita Bread Soaked in Lamb Soup (Yang Rou Pao Mo羊肉泡馍)
When fierce winds scatter fallen leaves and cold rain soaks sleeves, Xi’an’s paomo (bread-soaked soup) shops buzz with life. Impatient diners opt for “machine-crumbled bread” to quickly warm their empty stomachs, while patient ones meticulously tear the round, white flatbread into bee-head-sized pieces before handing them to the cook. The shop simmers the bread bits in a rich broth—made from hours of boiling mutton, lamb bones, beef, or beef bones—adjusting the soup’s quantity to each customer’s taste. Soon, a steaming bowl arrives.
In the bowl, tiny bread chunks lie beneath a cozy “blanket” of meat slices, resting on glass noodles and swimming in fragrant broth. A sip of the hot soup warms the body; a bite of the bread, infused with savory broth, sends comfort radiating to every limb. For extra heat, diners stir in chili paste—one spoonful brings spice, two induce sweat. If the richness becomes too much, a crisp bite of sweet pickled garlic cuts through. Thirsty? A gulp of Bingfeng soda, the local orange pop, ends the meal with a fizzy burp—pure bliss.
Though historical records don’t pinpoint paomo’s origins, enthusiasts keep digging. In the 1990s, Xi’an media traced it to the Western Zhou Dynasty (1046–771 BCE), linking it to a meat stew called “xun” mentioned in the Book of Rites. However, scholars note that paomo likely emerged after the introduction of Hu-style flatbreads. These dry, dense breads were hard to swallow with cold water, so soaking them in hot broth became a practical solution—a precursor to modern paomo. Food historian Qiu Pangtong argues in History of Chinese Pastries that the dish took its current form during the Ming and Qing dynasties (1368–1912). What’s certain is that Shaanxi’s wheat-growing traditions, climate, and cultural exchanges between Han and ethnic groups shaped its evolution. Folktales even claim emperors like Song Dynasty’s Zhao Kuangyin and poet Su Shi adored it. Recently, a spicy stir-fried version called “xiao chao” has won over diners, adding a bold new chapter to this humble bread’s enduring story.
Saozi noodles（Saozi Mian臊子面）
In the bowl, tiny bread chunks lie beneath a cozy “blanket” of meat slices, resting on glass noodles and swimming in fragrant broth. A sip of the hot soup warms the body; a bite of the bread, infused with savory broth, sends comfort radiating to every limb. For extra heat, diners stir in chili paste—one spoonful brings spice, two induce sweat. If the richness becomes too much, a crisp bite of sweet pickled garlic cuts through. Thirsty? A gulp of Bingfeng soda, the local orange pop, ends the meal with a fizzy burp—pure bliss.
Though historical records don’t pinpoint paomo’s origins, enthusiasts keep digging. In the 1990s, Xi’an media traced it to the Western Zhou Dynasty (1046–771 BCE), linking it to a meat stew called “xun” mentioned in the Book of Rites. However, scholars note that paomo likely emerged after the introduction of Hu-style flatbreads. These dry, dense breads were hard to swallow with cold water, so soaking them in hot broth became a practical solution—a precursor to modern paomo. Food historian Qiu Pangtong argues in History of Chinese Pastries that the dish took its current form during the Ming and Qing dynasties (1368–1912). What’s certain is that Shaanxi’s wheat-growing traditions, climate, and cultural exchanges between Han and ethnic groups shaped its evolution. Folktales even claim emperors like Song Dynasty’s Zhao Kuangyin and poet Su Shi adored it. Recently, a spicy stir-fried version called “xiao chao” has won over diners, adding a bold new chapter to this humble bread’s enduring story.
Saozi noodles（Saozi Mian臊子面）
A folk tale from Baoji, Shaanxi, spins an imaginative origin story for Saozi noodles. During the late Shang Dynasty, the Zhou people working near Mount Qi reportedly witnessed a dragon crashing from the sky. King Wen of Zhou, believing dragon meat held magical properties, ordered it chopped and cooked into a communal noodle soup so everyone could benefit—a tale celebrating his wisdom, though more legend than fact.
Today, making Saozi noodles is a point of pride in Baoji. Cooks start by frying minced pork with ginger and vinegar, then simmer it with spices like the “thirteen-spice blend,” sugar, and salt to create a rich sauce. This mixes with wood ear mushrooms, daylily stems, tofu cubes, carrots, and green beans. Freshly boiled noodles are topped with this hearty mix, resulting in a dish celebrated for its tangy, spicy aroma and smooth, chewy texture.
Beyond taste, Saozi noodles carry cultural meaning. Families traditionally serve them in small bowls—each person takes a bite of noodles, drinks some broth, then returns the liquid to the shared pot. This ritual, nicknamed “every bite delights” or “shared broth noodles,” symbolizes family unity, turning a simple meal into a bond that connects generations.
Oil-splashed chili (Youpo Lazi油泼辣子)
When winter’s chill bites, nothing warms the body like the fiery sizzle of hot oil meeting chili flakes—the opening act of Shaanxi’s beloved "oil-splashed chili" (youpo lazi). This crimson condiment is the soul of Shaanxi cuisine, so iconic that locals joke, “Chili oil is a dish itself,” ranking it among the province’s “Ten Quirks.”
Even at lavish New Year feasts, the humble dumpling wrapper steals the show when drenched in this chili oil. A simple bite becomes a tangy, spicy revelation, outshining meaty delicacies.Shaanxi folks call chili peppers either “lazi” or “Qin peppers” (Qinjiao), nodding to neighboring Sichuan’s influence. Despite the local name, chilies aren’t native here. They arrived via global trade: after Columbus brought them from the Americas to Europe, chilies sailed to China through commerce and war. At first, the Chinese admired their vibrant looks, cataloging them as ornamental plants in flower guides. It took a brave soul to taste one and discover their fiery magic. Scholars believe chilies reached Shaanxi from Shanxi and Henan during the Qing Dynasty (1644–1912). The earliest local records appear in Shaanxi county annals: the 1694 Shanyang County Chronicles describes “foreign peppers, horn-shaped, green then red, with white seeds—extremely spicy,” while the 1753 Yichuan County Chronicles notes “Qin peppers (commonly called lazi).” These border regions, adjacent to Henan, Hubei, and Shanxi, likely served as gateways for chili’s spread.
Over time, Shaanxi farmers nurtured chilies into countless local varieties. At the Yangling Agricultural Expo, you’ll find Qin peppers, Shaanxi thread chilies, Baoji peppers, Xingping chilies, strawberry-shaped “Shaanxi berries,” and more—a “forest of peppers” that might prompt a local to chuckle: “Dang! Why’d ya grow so many chilies?!”
Osmanthus rice wine （Huanggui Choujiu黄桂稠酒）
Even at lavish New Year feasts, the humble dumpling wrapper steals the show when drenched in this chili oil. A simple bite becomes a tangy, spicy revelation, outshining meaty delicacies.Shaanxi folks call chili peppers either “lazi” or “Qin peppers” (Qinjiao), nodding to neighboring Sichuan’s influence. Despite the local name, chilies aren’t native here. They arrived via global trade: after Columbus brought them from the Americas to Europe, chilies sailed to China through commerce and war. At first, the Chinese admired their vibrant looks, cataloging them as ornamental plants in flower guides. It took a brave soul to taste one and discover their fiery magic. Scholars believe chilies reached Shaanxi from Shanxi and Henan during the Qing Dynasty (1644–1912). The earliest local records appear in Shaanxi county annals: the 1694 Shanyang County Chronicles describes “foreign peppers, horn-shaped, green then red, with white seeds—extremely spicy,” while the 1753 Yichuan County Chronicles notes “Qin peppers (commonly called lazi).” These border regions, adjacent to Henan, Hubei, and Shanxi, likely served as gateways for chili’s spread.
Over time, Shaanxi farmers nurtured chilies into countless local varieties. At the Yangling Agricultural Expo, you’ll find Qin peppers, Shaanxi thread chilies, Baoji peppers, Xingping chilies, strawberry-shaped “Shaanxi berries,” and more—a “forest of peppers” that might prompt a local to chuckle: “Dang! Why’d ya grow so many chilies?!”
Osmanthus rice wine （Huanggui Choujiu黄桂稠酒）
Amidst the hearty bowls of salty, spicy noodles, the delicate sweetness of huanggui choujiu (osmanthus rice wine) offers a refreshing contrast. Brewed from glutinous rice, osmanthus flowers, and wheat yeast, this mildly alcoholic drink is perfect for those who enjoy gentle warmth. Picture this: sipping the floral wine, nibbling on crispy "gourd chicken" (a local delicacy), and chatting with friends through a long afternoon—all before an evening stroll along Xi’an’s ancient city walls.
Perhaps Emperor Xuanzong and his beloved Consort Yang once walked these paths after sharing such a drink. Legend says Yang adored a tavern’s rice wine during an outing and gifted the owner a golden osmanthus branch. The brewer infused its fragrance into the wine, creating the now-famous “Consort’s Rice Wine.” But osmanthus wine’s roots run deeper: over 2,500 years ago, poet Qu Yuan wrote of “offering cassia wine” in his Nine Songs, proving its timeless allure.
Beyond osmanthus wine, Shaanxi’s liquor legacy shines through Xifeng—a “phoenix aroma” baijiu dating back to the Shang Dynasty (c. 1600–1046 BCE). Praised as imperial wine in the Tang, celebrated by Song poet Su Shi, and honored as one of China’s “Eight Great Liquors” today, Xifeng embodies centuries of craft with its layered aromas and flavors.
Modern Xi’an keeps this spirit alive in nostalgic taverns where peach blossom wine, lychee-infused brews, and minty concoctions mingle with tradition. Here, the scents of Shaanxi’s cuisine—tangy, spicy, and rich—carry the weight of history, painting a portrait of a land where dusty plains meet roaring Qin opera, and every flavor tells a story worth savoring.
Cold noodles (Liangpi凉皮）
Xi’an liangpi are a beloved local staple, typically divided into three main types: Qishan hand-pulled noodles, Hanzhong hot-served noodles, and Qinzhen rice-flour noodles. Among these, Qishan ganmianpi (hand-pulled cold noodles) reign supreme.
Originating from Tang Dynasty-era “cold noodles,” Qishan ganmianpi stands out for its meticulous craftsmanship. Made with premium flour, the noodles are famed for their “white sheen, thinness, smoothness, softness, chewiness, and aroma”—cool, tangy, and mildly spicy, perfect for any season. Historically, these noodles were served as imperial tribute, earning the nickname “Royal Capital Delicacy” .
Unlike other types of liangpi, Qishan ganmianpi involves a unique process: the dough is first rolled into thin sheets, steamed, then sliced into ribbons slightly wider than regular cold noodles. This method gives them a firmer, springier texture loved across Shaanxi, Gansu, and Ningxia. Recognized as a “Chinese Famous Snack” in 2011, they’ve become a signature of Baoji’s Qishan region.
Local lore ties their origin to the Qing Dynasty, when a Qishan native named Wang Tongjiang reportedly brought the recipe from the Beijing imperial kitchens. Today, whether enjoyed at a street stall or a family table, these chewy, vinegar-spiked noodles remain a taste of Shaanxi’s culinary soul—where history, texture, and flavor collide in every bite.
Zeng cake（Zeng Gao甑糕)
Originating from Tang Dynasty-era “cold noodles,” Qishan ganmianpi stands out for its meticulous craftsmanship. Made with premium flour, the noodles are famed for their “white sheen, thinness, smoothness, softness, chewiness, and aroma”—cool, tangy, and mildly spicy, perfect for any season. Historically, these noodles were served as imperial tribute, earning the nickname “Royal Capital Delicacy” .
Unlike other types of liangpi, Qishan ganmianpi involves a unique process: the dough is first rolled into thin sheets, steamed, then sliced into ribbons slightly wider than regular cold noodles. This method gives them a firmer, springier texture loved across Shaanxi, Gansu, and Ningxia. Recognized as a “Chinese Famous Snack” in 2011, they’ve become a signature of Baoji’s Qishan region.
Local lore ties their origin to the Qing Dynasty, when a Qishan native named Wang Tongjiang reportedly brought the recipe from the Beijing imperial kitchens. Today, whether enjoyed at a street stall or a family table, these chewy, vinegar-spiked noodles remain a taste of Shaanxi’s culinary soul—where history, texture, and flavor collide in every bite.
Zeng cake（Zeng Gao甑糕)
Zeng cake, a sticky-sweet delight from Shaanxi, is made by steaming glutinous rice and red dates in an ancient deep-bellied pot called a zeng. The rice soaks up the dates’ rich flavor, turning soft and jewel-red, layered with cloud beans and topped with date paste—sometimes sprinkled with raisins for extra color. Warm, chewy, and fragrant, it’s a winter favorite, often eaten as breakfast by locals rushing to work.
This treat’s history stretches back over 3,000 years, evolving from Zhou Dynasty rice cakes mentioned in China’s oldest ritual texts. By the Tang Dynasty, it became a royal dessert called “crystal dragon-phoenix cake.” The zeng itself—a thick iron pot blackened by decades of coal smoke—is key to its charm. While most of China abandoned these pots decades ago, Shaanxi’s villages still clatter with them, their size matching the region’s love for bold flavors: giant noodle bowls, hefty tea pots, and hearty appetites.
Legend says a Qing Dynasty general called it “the commoner’s bird’s nest” for its nourishing simplicity. Farmers buy it wrapped in leaves after markets, writers devour bowls for creative fuel, and street vendors hoist their soot-stained zeng pots like badges of honor. What makes it irresistible? The contrast: rugged tools create tender cakes, humble ingredients mirror imperial recipes, and every sticky bite carries the weight of dynasties—yet feels as comforting as a grandma’s kitchen.
This treat’s history stretches back over 3,000 years, evolving from Zhou Dynasty rice cakes mentioned in China’s oldest ritual texts. By the Tang Dynasty, it became a royal dessert called “crystal dragon-phoenix cake.” The zeng itself—a thick iron pot blackened by decades of coal smoke—is key to its charm. While most of China abandoned these pots decades ago, Shaanxi’s villages still clatter with them, their size matching the region’s love for bold flavors: giant noodle bowls, hefty tea pots, and hearty appetites.
Legend says a Qing Dynasty general called it “the commoner’s bird’s nest” for its nourishing simplicity. Farmers buy it wrapped in leaves after markets, writers devour bowls for creative fuel, and street vendors hoist their soot-stained zeng pots like badges of honor. What makes it irresistible? The contrast: rugged tools create tender cakes, humble ingredients mirror imperial recipes, and every sticky bite carries the weight of dynasties—yet feels as comforting as a grandma’s kitchen.
Recommended Restaurants
For your reference, the following are the restaurants rated most popular by the locals:
Fanji Braised Pork Flatbread (Fanji Zhima Roujiamo 樊记腊汁肉夹馍)
Description: A century-old Xi'an institution famous for its tender braised pork stuffed into crispy, flaky flatbread. The secret marinade simmers for hours, creating melt-in-your-mouth filling.
Address: 53 Zhubashi Street, Beilin District, Xi'an.
Tong Sheng Xiang Lamb Paomo 同盛祥泡馍
Description: Xi'an's iconic mutton soup with hand-torn bread, served since 1920. Diners shred their own flatbread before chefs simmer it in rich bone broth at your table.
Address: 58 Xiyangshi Street, Lianhu District, Xi'an.
Jiang’s Qishan Hand-Pulled Cold Noodles (LaoJiangjia Qishan Ganmianpi 老江家岐山擀面皮)
Description: Chewy hand-pulled cold noodles tossed in chili oil and black vinegar, topped with gluten strips. A tangy-spicy summer staple since the Qing Dynasty.
Address: 23 Youyi East Road, Beilin District, Xi'an.
Liu Laohu Peppery Soup (Liu Laohu Hula Tang 刘老虎胡辣汤)
Description: Thick peppery soup with beef, vegetables, and signature "numbing" broth. Locals line up at dawn for this winter warmer served with crispy fried dough.
Address: 76 Laodong Road, Xincheng District, Xi'an.
Deyuanzhai Zeng Cake (Deyuanzhai Zenglianzi 德元斋甑糕)
Description: Steamed glutinous rice cake layered with dates and beans, cooked in massive iron pots. Sweet, sticky, and best enjoyed fresh from coal-fired zeng vessels.
Address: Near South Gate (Yongningmen), Beilin District, Xi'an.
Wang Family Sour Soup Dumplings (Wangjia Suantang Jiaozi 王家酸汤饺子)
Description: Boiled dumplings swimming in golden sour-soup made from fermented rice. The tangy broth cuts through juicy pork/chive fillings perfectly.
Address: 89 Sajinqiao Road, Lianhu District, Xi'an.
Soup-Filled Steamed Buns (Guantang Baozi 灌汤包子)
Description: Soup-filled pork buns requiring skill to eat – bite carefully to sip hot broth before devouring. Established 1936, with bamboo-steamed freshness.
Address: 144 Dongmutou Street, Xincheng District, Xi'an.
He Family Cold Rice Noodles (Hejia Liangpi 贺家凉皮)
Description: Rice-flour cold noodles with julienned cucumber and sesame paste sauce. Cool, nutty, and less spicy than ganmianpi – ideal for kids.
Address: 102 Dongda Street, Xincheng District, Xi'an.
Fanji Braised Pork Flatbread (Fanji Zhima Roujiamo 樊记腊汁肉夹馍)
Description: A century-old Xi'an institution famous for its tender braised pork stuffed into crispy, flaky flatbread. The secret marinade simmers for hours, creating melt-in-your-mouth filling.
Address: 53 Zhubashi Street, Beilin District, Xi'an.
Tong Sheng Xiang Lamb Paomo 同盛祥泡馍
Description: Xi'an's iconic mutton soup with hand-torn bread, served since 1920. Diners shred their own flatbread before chefs simmer it in rich bone broth at your table.
Address: 58 Xiyangshi Street, Lianhu District, Xi'an.
Jiang’s Qishan Hand-Pulled Cold Noodles (LaoJiangjia Qishan Ganmianpi 老江家岐山擀面皮)
Description: Chewy hand-pulled cold noodles tossed in chili oil and black vinegar, topped with gluten strips. A tangy-spicy summer staple since the Qing Dynasty.
Address: 23 Youyi East Road, Beilin District, Xi'an.
Liu Laohu Peppery Soup (Liu Laohu Hula Tang 刘老虎胡辣汤)
Description: Thick peppery soup with beef, vegetables, and signature "numbing" broth. Locals line up at dawn for this winter warmer served with crispy fried dough.
Address: 76 Laodong Road, Xincheng District, Xi'an.
Deyuanzhai Zeng Cake (Deyuanzhai Zenglianzi 德元斋甑糕)
Description: Steamed glutinous rice cake layered with dates and beans, cooked in massive iron pots. Sweet, sticky, and best enjoyed fresh from coal-fired zeng vessels.
Address: Near South Gate (Yongningmen), Beilin District, Xi'an.
Wang Family Sour Soup Dumplings (Wangjia Suantang Jiaozi 王家酸汤饺子)
Description: Boiled dumplings swimming in golden sour-soup made from fermented rice. The tangy broth cuts through juicy pork/chive fillings perfectly.
Address: 89 Sajinqiao Road, Lianhu District, Xi'an.
Soup-Filled Steamed Buns (Guantang Baozi 灌汤包子)
Description: Soup-filled pork buns requiring skill to eat – bite carefully to sip hot broth before devouring. Established 1936, with bamboo-steamed freshness.
Address: 144 Dongmutou Street, Xincheng District, Xi'an.
He Family Cold Rice Noodles (Hejia Liangpi 贺家凉皮)
Description: Rice-flour cold noodles with julienned cucumber and sesame paste sauce. Cool, nutty, and less spicy than ganmianpi – ideal for kids.
Address: 102 Dongda Street, Xincheng District, Xi'an.
