A whole chicken braised dark red with potato wedges and dried chilies, served on a plate wider than the table — Xinjiang's roadside dish, finished with belt noodles dragged through the sauce.
Dark, lacquered rings of pork intestine braised through caramel, rice vinegar and spice — sweet, sour, salty and bitter in one bite, from the cut most kitchens bin.
A sea cucumber tastes of nothing at all, so Shandong's most expensive dish is built out of scallion oil, four days of soaking, and a cook who refuses to rush either one.
White rice noodles, flat and slick, dressed with dark master braise, blistered 锅烧 pork belly, cold sour pickles and peanuts — the Guilin breakfast you eat dry first, then finish with broth.