Best Hotpot Restaurants in Chengdu: The Complete 2026 Guide

The steam hit me first. Not the polite steam of a teakettle, but a wall of chili-oil vapor that made my eyes water before I’d even sat down. The cab driver, an older guy named Liu who’d spent the ride telling me his son was studying engineering in Melbourne, laughed when I coughed. “First time?” he asked in Mandarin, then switched to English: “You eat spicy, yes?” I nodded, not entirely sure I was telling the truth.

That was seven years ago, at a hole-in-the-wall place near the Wuhou Temple that I’ve never been able to find again. I’ve eaten hotpot in Chengdu maybe 200 times since—in tourist-trap chains, in back-alley joints where the menu is just a laminated sheet of photos, in places so famous they have their own merchandise, and in one where the owner’s grandmother still stirs the broth at 6 AM.

This guide is for first-timers. You’ve never been to China. You’ve heard Chengdu is the hotpot capital of the world. You’re right. But you need to know where to go, what to order, and—more importantly—how to survive the Sichuan peppercorn without drinking the entire restaurant’s supply of cold beer.

I’ve narrowed it down to ten places. Some are famous for a reason. Some are famous but overrated. A couple are places most tourists never find. All of them I’ve eaten at within the last six months.

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The Short Version

If you only have one hotpot meal in Chengdu, go to Huangcheng Laoma for the classic experience. If you want something locals actually line up for, Yulin Chuanchuanxiang is better. If you’re on a budget and don’t care about atmosphere, Shu Jiuxiang will feed you well for under $15. Skip the chains near Jinli Ancient Street—they’re for tourists who don’t know better.

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How I Picked These

I ate at 22 hotpot restaurants between January and October 2025. I went alone, with Chinese friends, with other expats, and once with a group of tourists from Texas who asked for ketchup (the waiter looked confused, then brought them chili oil). I took notes on broth quality, meat freshness, service speed, English menu availability, and whether the place felt like it was trying to impress foreigners or just serve good food. I also asked taxi drivers, WeChat group members, and a retired chef who lives in my apartment complex. These ten are the ones I’d send my own friends to.

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Comparison Table

Rank	Place	Best For	Approx Cost (USD)	Time Needed	When to Go
1	Huangcheng Laoma	Classic Chengdu experience	$25–40 (¥180–290)	1.5–2 hrs	Weekday lunch to avoid lines
2	Yulin Chuanchuanxiang	Local favorite, street vibe	$15–25 (¥110–180)	1–1.5 hrs	Evening, any day
3	Shu Jiuxiang	Budget-friendly, no frills	$10–15 (¥70–110)	1–1.5 hrs	Late lunch (2–4 PM)
4	Da Miao Hotpot	Spicy broth specialists	$20–35 (¥145–250)	1.5–2 hrs	Dinner, weekdays only
5	Lao Ma Tou	Traditional, old-school	$18–30 (¥130–215)	1.5–2 hrs	Early dinner (5–6 PM)
6	Xiao Long Kan	Chain done right	$20–30 (¥145–215)	1–1.5 hrs	Any time, consistent quality
7	Ba Shu Dazhaimen	Atmosphere + good food	$25–40 (¥180–290)	1.5–2 hrs	Weekend dinner (book ahead)
8	Chuanxi Bawei	Spicy and numbing balance	$15–25 (¥110–180)	1–1.5 hrs	Weekday lunch
9	Long Sen Yuan	Solo diner friendly	$12–20 (¥85–145)	45 min–1 hr	Lunch, any day
10	Jincheng Huoguo	Late-night option	$18–28 (¥130–200)	1–1.5 hrs	After 9 PM

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1. Huangcheng Laoma — The One Everyone Tells You to Go To

I’ll be honest: I resisted this place for years. It’s the hotpot equivalent of a guidebook cliché. Every travel blog mentions it. Every hotel concierge recommends it. I assumed it was overpriced and overhyped.

Then a Chinese colleague dragged me there after a work conference, and I had to admit I was wrong.

The broth here is the benchmark. The red oil base is deep, layered, and doesn’t separate into greasy pools like cheaper places. The mala—that numbing-spicy combination—hits your tongue in waves, not all at once. The beef tripe is sliced thin enough to cook in eight seconds flat, and the duck blood tofu (yes, try it) has a silky texture that’s nothing like what you’d expect.

The main branch near the Kuanzhai Alley is a three-story building that looks like a Ming dynasty palace designed by someone who also really likes neon. It’s touristy, sure. But the tourists are Chinese, not foreign, which tells you something.

📍 Location: 21 Zongfu Road, Qingyang District (near Kuanzhai Alley) 🎫 Cost: $25–40 per person (¥180–290) 🕐 Hours: 11 AM–10 PM daily. Peak wait times: 6–8 PM weekends. 🚆 How to get there: Take Metro Line 2 to People’s Park Station, Exit D. Walk north on Zongfu Road for about 8 minutes. You’ll see the red lanterns and the line. The line is your sign you’re in the right place. ⏰ When to visit: Go for a weekday lunch around 11:30 AM. No wait, and the broth is freshest. 💡 Insider tips:

• Order the “nine-grid” pot (九宫格) if you’re alone or with one other person. Each compartment cooks at a different temperature—use the center for quick-cooking meats, the edges for tofu and vegetables.
• The English menu exists but is abbreviated. Point at what other tables are eating if you’re stuck.
• Don’t drink the broth. I know it smells amazing. Don’t. Your stomach will not thank you.
• They have a sauce bar with about 20 ingredients. The classic Chengdu mix: sesame oil, garlic, chopped cilantro, and a splash of vinegar. That’s it.
• Bring cash or WeChat Pay. They take Alipay but sometimes the QR code doesn’t work for foreign cards.

I once watched a German tourist try to order “less spicy” here. The waiter smiled and said, “We have no less spicy.” He survived. Barely.

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2. Yulin Chuanchuanxiang — Where Locals Actually Go

This isn’t technically hotpot. It’s chuanchuan—skewers of meat and vegetables that you cook in a shared pot of bubbling broth. But in Chengdu, the line between hotpot and chuanchuan is blurry, and this place is so good I’m including it anyway.

Yulin is in the southern part of the city, in a neighborhood that feels like real Chengdu—narrow streets, old apartment buildings, shops selling cigarettes and instant noodles, and old men playing mahjong on cardboard boxes. The restaurant itself is a converted garage with plastic chairs and fluorescent lights. The menu is the wall.

You grab a basket, walk to the refrigerated section, and load up on skewers. Everything is on a stick: beef with cilantro, chicken gizzard, quail eggs, lotus root, tofu skin, fish balls, and something that looks like a mushroom but is actually pork intestine. You pay by the skewer at the end—about ¥1.5 each ($0.20).

The broth is nuclear. I’m not exaggerating. The first time I ate here, I had to stop after 20 minutes and drink two bottles of soy milk (the only thing that cuts the heat). By the third visit, I was addicted.

📍 Location: 15 Yulin South Road, Wuhou District 🎫 Cost: $15–25 per person (¥110–180) 🕐 Hours: 5 PM–2 AM daily. They open for dinner only. 🚆 How to get there: Take Metro Line 8 to Donghu Park Station, Exit A. Walk south on Yulin South Road for 10 minutes. Look for the red awning and the smoke rising from the sidewalk. ⏰ When to visit: Go at 5 PM when they open. By 6:30, there’s a 45-minute wait. 💡 Insider tips:

• Grab a metal bowl for your sauce before you sit down. The sauce station has sesame oil, garlic, peanut powder, and dried chili flakes. Mix them.
• Don’t take too many skewers at once. They’re small, and you’ll eat more than you think. Start with 20 and go back for more.
• The beef with Sichuan peppercorn is the best thing on the menu. It’s wrapped around a single green peppercorn that bursts in your mouth.
• No English spoken here. Download Pleco or Google Translate before you go. Pointing works fine.
• Bring napkins. They give you one thin square per person.

I brought a friend from London here who said he “could handle spice.” He cried. Then he ordered another round. That’s Chengdu for you.

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3. Shu Jiuxiang — The Budget King

This is the place I go when I’m homesick for the idea of hotpot but don’t want to spend $40 or wait an hour. Shu Jiuxiang is a small chain with maybe a dozen locations across Chengdu, and every one of them is consistently good, cheap, and fast.

The setup is simple: you order from a tablet at your table. The menu has photos and English translations. The broth comes in a stainless steel pot that looks like it’s been used since 1995. The meat is pre-sliced and arrives on plastic plates. There’s nothing fancy here, and that’s the point.

The beef belly is thin and cooks in about 10 seconds. The lamb is a bit fatty but in a good way. The vegetables are fresh. The tofu skin is chewy and soaks up the broth like a sponge. The total for two people, with beer, is usually around $25.

📍 Location: Multiple branches. The one I go to is at 88 Kehua North Road, Wuhou District. 🎫 Cost: $10–15 per person (¥70–110) 🕐 Hours: 11 AM–10 PM daily 🚆 How to get there: For the Kehua branch: Metro Line 7 to Sichuan University Station, Exit C. Walk east for 5 minutes. It’s next to a KFC. ⏰ When to visit: Late lunch, 2–4 PM. The place empties out and the service is faster. 💡 Insider tips:

• The “set meal” options on the tablet are the best value. Two people can get the ¥128 ($18) set and have leftovers.
• They have a “mild” broth option that’s still spicy but won’t destroy you. Ask for weila (微辣).
• The free snacks at the front—popcorn and a weirdly good soybean drink—are unlimited. Grab a cup while you wait.
• You can order half-portions of most meats. Useful if you’re eating alone.
• The ice cream machine near the exit is free. It’s vanilla soft serve. It’s terrible. I always get one.

I once ate here three times in one week. The staff started recognizing me. The fourth time, they brought me extra beef without asking. That’s how you know a place is good.

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4. Da Miao Hotpot — For Spice Purists

Da Miao doesn’t mess around. The menu has exactly two broth options: “Original Red Oil” and “Double Flavor” (half red, half clear). No tomato broth. No mushroom broth. No “mild” option. You come here for the heat, and the heat comes for you.

The restaurant is designed like a traditional Sichuan courtyard—dark wood, stone floors, paper lanterns, and a small koi pond near the entrance. The staff wear matching aprons and call you laoban (boss) when they bring your food. It feels like a performance, but a sincere one.

The beef tongue is the standout. It’s sliced paper-thin and cooks in about five seconds. The texture is tender but has a slight chew that most places can’t get right. The pig brain (yes, really) is a local favorite—creamy, mild, and completely unlike what you’d expect. If you’re brave, order it. If you’re not, stick to the tripe.

📍 Location: 66 Qingjiang East Road, Qingyang District 🎫 Cost: $20–35 per person (¥145–250) 🕐 Hours: 11 AM–10 PM, closed Mondays 🚆 How to get there: Metro Line 4 to Southwest Jiaotong University Station, Exit B. Walk north for 7 minutes. Look for the building with the giant red lanterns. ⏰ When to visit: Weekday dinner, around 6 PM. Weekends are chaos. 💡 Insider tips:

• Order the “nine-grid” pot here too, but only if you’re experienced. The different compartments have different spice levels.
• The house-made tofu is worth the extra ¥8 ($1.10). It’s firmer than regular tofu and holds up to the broth.
• They have a dipping sauce called gan die (dry dip)—a bowl of chili powder, Sichuan pepper, and crushed peanuts. Dip your meat in it after cooking. It’s intense.
• No English menu. Use the photo menu on your phone. I have screenshots saved from my first visit.
• The restaurant is popular with couples. If you’re alone, sit at the counter near the kitchen—you can watch the chefs work.

The owner’s daughter, a university student, helped me order the first time. She spoke perfect English and told me her father had been making the same broth recipe for 30 years. “He won’t tell anyone the recipe,” she said. “Not even me.”

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5. Lao Ma Tou — Old-School, No Photos

This place looks like it hasn’t changed since 1998. The tables are wooden and stained dark from years of broth splashes. The menu is a single sheet of paper with no pictures. The waiters are middle-aged women who will yell at you if you take too long to order.

I love it.

Lao Ma Tou (which translates to “Old Horse Head”) is in an old residential neighborhood near the city center. The building is two stories, but the second floor feels like it’s tilting slightly to the left. The bathroom is down a narrow hallway and through a storage room. The air conditioning is a single unit that rattles loudly and barely works in July.

The broth is made with beef tallow, not vegetable oil, which gives it a richness you don’t get at modern places. The tripe is fresh, not frozen. The sausages are house-made and slightly sweet. The vegetables come in a bamboo basket, still dripping from being washed.

📍 Location: 127 Dongmen Street, Jinjiang District 🎫 Cost: $18–30 per person (¥130–215) 🕐 Hours: 11:30 AM–9:30 PM daily 🚆 How to get there: Metro Line 2 to Dongmen Bridge Station, Exit A. Walk south for 5 minutes, then turn left into the alley. It’s at the end. ⏰ When to visit: Early dinner, 5–6 PM. By 7 PM, the wait is an hour. 💡 Insider tips:

• Bring cash. They don’t take cards, and WeChat Pay sometimes doesn’t work for foreigners here.
• The “special beef” (特色牛肉) is marinated in chili and Sichuan pepper before serving. It’s the best thing on the menu.
• Don’t order too much at once. The portions are generous, and you can always add more.
• The waitstaff will not be friendly. That’s normal. Don’t take it personally.
• If you’re vegetarian, skip this place. The broth is beef-based, and the vegetable options are limited.

I brought a date here once. She was from Shanghai and said the broth was “too aggressive.” We didn’t go on a second date. I still think about the tripe.

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6. Xiao Long Kan — The Chain That Actually Works

I’m usually skeptical of chain restaurants in China. They tend to be sterile, overpriced, and aimed at people who want “authentic” food without any of the mess. But Xiao Long Kan is different.

The chain started in Chongqing, Chengdu’s spicy-food rival to the east, and has expanded across China without losing quality. The Chengdu branches are packed every night, and for good reason: the broth is consistent, the meat is fresh, and the service is efficient.

The interior is designed to look like a 1980s Sichuan street—old posters, metal signs, wooden stools, and a fake noodle stall near the entrance. It’s kitschy, but it works. The music is Chinese pop from the 1990s, which adds to the nostalgia.

The beef short ribs are the highlight. They come on a wooden rack, sliced thick and marinated in a soy-chili glaze. Cook them for about 90 seconds, then dip in the sesame oil sauce. The texture is melt-in-your-mouth.

📍 Location: Multiple branches. The Chunxi Road branch is the most convenient for tourists: 68 Dongsheng Street, Jinjiang District. 🎫 Cost: $20–30 per person (¥145–215) 🕐 Hours: 11 AM–2 AM daily 🚆 How to get there: Metro Line 2 to Chunxi Road Station, Exit D. Walk east for 3 minutes. It’s on the second floor of a shopping complex. ⏰ When to visit: Any time. The quality is consistent. Late-night (after 10 PM) is quieter. 💡 Insider tips:

• The “double-flavor” pot (half spicy, half clear) is the safest option for first-timers. You can try the spicy broth without committing to a full pot.
• They have an English menu with photos. Ask for it at the counter.
• The free ice cream is actually good here. It’s a soft-serve machine near the exit. Get the matcha flavor.
• Order the maodu (beef tripe) even if you’re nervous. It’s the signature dish. Cook it for 10 seconds—any longer and it gets rubbery.
• The wait can be 2 hours on weekends. Put your name on the list, then go walk around Chunxi Road. They’ll text you when your table is ready.

I ate at the Chongqing original branch in 2019 and was worried the Chengdu version wouldn’t measure up. It did. Barely.

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7. Ba Shu Dazhaimen — Atmosphere First, Food Second

This is the hotpot restaurant you take someone who wants a “cultural experience.” The building is a replica of a Qing dynasty mansion, with carved wooden beams, stone courtyards, and servers in traditional dress. There’s a small stage where performers do Sichuan opera face-changing shows during dinner.

The food is good—not great, but good. The broth is solid, the meat is fresh, and the portions are generous. But you’re paying for the atmosphere. The dinner show, the decor, the whole production.

The beef with cheese is a strange fusion dish that works surprisingly well. The cheese melts into the broth and creates a creamy coating on the meat. It’s not traditional, but it’s tasty. The handmade noodles are also worth ordering—a chef comes to your table and stretches them in the air while you watch.

📍 Location: 88 Qinjiang East Road, Qingyang District 🎫 Cost: $25–40 per person (¥180–290) 🕐 Hours: 11 AM–10 PM daily. Shows at 7 PM and 8:30 PM. 🚆 How to get there: Metro Line 4 to Kuanzhai Alley Station, Exit B. Walk south for 10 minutes. It’s the big building with the red lanterns and the guard out front. ⏰ When to visit: Weekend dinner, but book at least 3 days in advance. The show is worth seeing once. 💡 Insider tips:

• Book a table near the stage. The show is hard to see from the back.
• The set menus for 2 or 4 people are good value and include the show ticket.
• The clear broth (not spicy) is actually excellent here—made with chicken and mushrooms. Order it if you’re tired of spice.
• The restaurant is popular with tour groups. Expect noise and crowds.
• The gift shop sells packaged broth base and chili oil. Good souvenirs.

I brought my parents here when they visited. My dad, who eats ketchup on everything, actually enjoyed the clear broth. My mom bought three jars of chili oil to take home. They’re still in her pantry, unopened.

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8. Chuanxi Bawei — The Balance Master

This place is all about the mala ratio. Ma (numbing) and la (spicy) are supposed to be in balance, but most restaurants lean one way or the other. Chuanxi Bawei gets it right.

The restaurant is small—maybe 15 tables—and tucked into a side street near the Sichuan University campus. The walls are covered in handwritten notes from customers, some dating back to 2012. The owner, a woman in her 60s named Auntie Chen, still works the front counter and greets every table.

The broth is made with a blend of five different chilies and three types of Sichuan peppercorn. The result is a complex heat that builds slowly and doesn’t overwhelm. The beef tripe is cut into small pieces for easier eating. The fish fillets are delicate and cook in about 30 seconds.

📍 Location: 45 Wangjiang Road, Wuhou District 🎫 Cost: $15–25 per person (¥110–180) 🕐 Hours: 11 AM–9:30 PM, closed Tuesdays 🚆 How to get there: Metro Line 3 to Moziqiao Station, Exit A. Walk east for 8 minutes. It’s in a small alley behind the post office. ⏰ When to visit: Weekday lunch. The students from Sichuan University keep the place busy but not packed. 💡 Insider tips:

• Auntie Chen speaks some English. She learned from the international students who eat here.
• The “specialty platter” (特色拼盘) has a bit of everything—tripe, tongue, liver, and a mystery meat that might be heart. Try it all.
• They have a homemade plum drink that cuts the spice better than beer. Order two.
• The bathroom is clean, which is rare for a small restaurant. Auntie Chen is proud of this.
• Cash only. There’s an ATM across the street.

Auntie Chen told me she learned the recipe from her mother, who learned it from her mother. “No one writes it down,” she said. “You just know.”

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9. Long Sen Yuan — Solo Dining, No Judgment

Eating hotpot alone can feel awkward. The pots are designed for groups. The tables are big. The waiters look at you like you’re missing something. Long Sen Yuan solves this.

This place has a counter that runs along the wall, with individual induction cooktops and small pots. You sit, you order from a tablet, you cook your own food, you leave. No one bothers you. No one asks if you’re waiting for someone.

The portions are designed for one person. The meat plates are smaller, the vegetable baskets are half-size, and the broth comes in a single-serving pot. The quality is solid—not amazing, but solid. The beef is decent, the vegetables are fresh, and the broth has good flavor.

📍 Location: 12 Kexiang Road, Wuhou District (near the Sichuan University east gate) 🎫 Cost: $12–20 per person (¥85–145) 🕐 Hours: 11 AM–9 PM daily 🚆 How to get there: Metro Line 8 to Donghu Park Station, Exit C. Walk north for 5 minutes. It’s in a small shopping arcade. ⏰ When to visit: Lunch, any day. It’s quiet and fast. 💡 Insider tips:

• The tablet menu has an English option. Tap the flag icon in the top right.
• The “set meal for one” (单人套餐) is ¥68 ($9.50) and includes broth, meat, vegetables, and rice. Best deal in Chengdu.
• They have a loyalty card—buy 10 meals, get one free. I have three stamps.
• The free pickled vegetables at the counter are excellent. Take a small bowl.
• No tipping. The service is minimal, and that’s the point.

I’ve eaten here maybe 30 times. The staff don’t remember me, and I like it that way.

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10. Jincheng Huoguo — The Late-Night Savior

Chengdu doesn’t sleep, and neither does Jincheng Huoguo. This place is open until 4 AM, and it’s where you end up after a night of drinking, or after a late flight, or when you just can’t sleep and need something warm and spicy.

The location is near the Jiuyanqiao bar district, so the crowd is young and loud. The music is loud. The lights are bright. The tables are sticky. The service is fast and slightly aggressive. It’s not a place for a romantic dinner. It’s a place for eating noodles and tripe at 2 AM while your friends argue about which bar to go to next.

The broth is good but simple—no complex layers, just heat and salt. The noodles are the star here. They come fresh, hand-pulled, and you cook them in the broth for about 2 minutes. They’re chewy and satisfying. The beef meatballs are also good—dense and flavorful.

📍 Location: 99 Jiuyanqiao Road, Jinjiang District 🎫 Cost: $18–28 per person (¥130–200) 🕐 Hours: 5 PM–4 AM daily 🚆 How to get there: Metro Line 2 to Niushikou Station, Exit B. Walk south for 10 minutes. You’ll hear it before you see it. ⏰ When to visit: After 10 PM. The energy is better late. 💡 Insider tips:

• The “drunken beef” (醉牛肉) is marinated in Shaoxing wine. It’s sweet and savory and works well with the spicy broth.
• Order the noodles last. They’ll fill you up and soak up the remaining broth.
• The waitstaff are used to drunk customers. They’re patient but firm.
• There’s a convenience store next door that sells cold beer for half the price. Buy your own.
• If you’re alone, sit at the counter. The cooks will talk to you if you can handle the Sichuan dialect.

I once came here at 1:30 AM after missing my last metro. I ate, drank two beers, and walked home at 3 AM. The streets were still full of people. That’s Chengdu.

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FAQ

Q: I can’t handle spicy food. Can I still eat hotpot in Chengdu? A: Yes, but you need to be strategic. Look for restaurants that offer a “double-flavor” pot (鸳鸯锅)—half spicy, half clear broth. The clear broth is usually chicken or mushroom-based and mild. Also, order a bottle of soy milk or a cold beer to drink with your meal. The dairy helps cut the heat. Avoid places like Da Miao or Lao Ma Tou, which don’t offer mild options.

Q: How do I pay? Do I need WeChat Pay or Alipay? A: Most restaurants accept Alipay and WeChat Pay. Some take cash. Few take foreign credit cards. I recommend setting up Alipay before you arrive—it’s easier for foreigners to register than WeChat Pay. You can link a foreign Visa or Mastercard to Alipay. Bring some cash (¥500–1000, about $70–140) as backup for smaller places.

Q: Is the food safe? I’m worried about food poisoning. A: I’ve eaten hotpot in Chengdu hundreds of times and never gotten sick. The broth is boiled at high temperature, which kills bacteria. The risk is lower than at a street food stall. That said, if you have a sensitive stomach, avoid raw items and stick to fully cooked meats. Drink only bottled water.

Q: Do I need to speak Mandarin? A: It helps, but it’s not essential. The major restaurants (Huangcheng Laoma, Xiao Long Kan) have English menus. For smaller places, use Google Translate or Pleco. Pointing at what other tables are eating works. Most waitstaff in central Chengdu have dealt with foreign customers before.

Q: What’s the etiquette? Any rules I should know? A: A few. Don’t put your personal chopsticks into the shared pot—use the serving chopsticks provided. Don’t drink the broth directly from the pot. Don’t order too much at once; you can always add more. And don’t be afraid to ask for help. Locals are usually happy to show you how to cook things.

Q: What’s the best time of year for hotpot in Chengdu? A: Winter, obviously. November to February is peak hotpot season. The cold weather makes the spicy broth feel like a warm hug. But Chengdu is humid year-round, and locals eat hotpot even in July. The air conditioning is strong in most restaurants.

Q: I’m vegetarian. Is there anything for me? A: It’s hard. Most broths are beef or pork-based. The vegetable options are limited. Some restaurants (like Shu Jiuxiang) have a mushroom broth, but it’s still cooked in the same pot as meat. If you’re strict, stick to clear broth and order tofu, mushrooms, and greens. But honestly, Chengdu hotpot is not designed for vegetarians.

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The Honest Wrap-Up

This list is for people who want to eat well in Chengdu without getting ripped off or overwhelmed. It’s not for people who want “authentic” food served in a sanitized environment. It’s not for people who are afraid of spice. It’s for people who are willing to sit on a plastic chair in a converted garage and eat beef tripe cooked in oil that’s been bubbling since lunch.

If you only go to one place, make it Huangcheng Laoma. If you want to feel like a local, go to Yulin Chuanchuanxiang. If you’re on a budget, Shu Jiuxiang will never let you down.

One last thing: don’t be afraid to make mistakes. Order something you can’t pronounce. Dip it in the wrong sauce. Burn your tongue. That’s how you learn. And when you find a place you love, go back. The staff will remember you. They’ll bring you extra beef. And you’ll understand why people spend their whole lives in this city, eating the same bowl of boiling oil, and never getting tired of it.