In the realm of Chinese late-night snacks, barbecue reigns supreme with its diverse regional variations. From the smoky Northeastern skewers to the Yunnan Handful of Barbecue (把把烧) and the robust Western Sichuan hotpot grills, each type of barbecue boasts its own techniques and ingredients. However, amidst this flavorful landscape, there's one standout exception: Xinjiang. Here, barbecue is synonymous with one thing — lamb. Surrounded by prized sheep, Xinjiang has no reason to grill anything else. However, if someone talks about Xinjiang lamb skewers, they're either a local or running a non-local establishment. After reading through the whole article, you will find out why.
The Art of Xinjiang Barbecue Ingredients
Xinjiang's dominance in barbecue owes much to its natural bounty of local ingredients, especially its lamb. At most barbecue stalls here, the meat is threaded on-site. Picture stainless steel basins brimming with freshly cut chunks of lamb, a mosaic of red and white, fat and lean. Larger stalls have designated skewers, while smaller ones wait for the grill master's free moment for self-threading. For cost-effective vendors, the sequence often alternates between lean and fatty cuts, ensuring each skewer is substantial with five meaty chunks. White lamb fat is a natural oil that enriches the barbecue. Seasoned grill masters deftly sprinkle salt, cumin, and chili flakes during the grilling process.
The appeal of Xinjiang lamb lies in its freshness and tenderness. Unprocessed and simply seasoned, its casual skewering process might raise eyebrows among outsiders wondering about gaminess. Surprisingly, Xinjiang lamb is non-gamey even when cooked in plain water, boasting an exquisite tenderness that defines its soul in local barbecue.
Take the special Rob lamb from Yuli County, raised in the vast Gobi desert amid relentless foraging. Despite their active lifestyles, these lambs boast uniformly tender textures and balanced fat distribution, potentially making them the fitness champions of the national sheep herd, if sheep had a WeChat.
The Intricacies of Xinjiang Barbecue Skewers
Xinjiang's barbecue skewers adhere strictly to two types: iron skewers and red willow wood. Northern Xinjiang favors sturdy iron skewers, hefty in appearance with a sharp triangular tip that pierces meat quickly. The handles often sport a twisted design for a firm grip, boasting durability, rapid heat conduction, and ease of cleaning. It's common for Xinjiang families to use the same iron skewers for over a decade — mine have memories etched into them that have never been replaced.
Conversely, Southern Xinjiang's culinary masterpiece, the red willow skewer, boasts a historical legacy. Archaeological findings at the Qumuluk cemetery in Qumuluk County unearthed red willow lamb ribs dating back approximately 2,700 years. Initially a serendipitous choice in the harsh desert environment, red willow wood's unique aroma combines seamlessly with lamb, releasing plant sap during heating that enriches the meat's flavor profile. In recent years, however, due to environmental concerns, Xinjiang's culinary community advocated for reduced use of alternative materials.
Whether iron or red willow, as long as the meat is top-notch and seasoned right, Xinjiang skewers continue to conquer palates.
Exploring the Night Market Culture
Does Xinjiang barbecue, solely focused on lamb, ever become monotonous? Not when you explore its diverse sidekicks. With the region's extended summer daylight hours ensuring a picturesque sunset even at 9 or 10 PM, nothing beats unwinding after a busy day with friends over drinks and meat. To truly grasp the essence of Xinjiang barbecue, one must delve into its vibrant night market culture. These bustling hubs come alive after dusk, teeming with an array of sights, sounds, and aromas that define the region's culinary charm.
Amidst the bustling market stalls, each offering its own rendition of Xinjiang barbecue, one can't help but be drawn to the rhythmic clinking of skewers on grills, the sizzle of meat as it meets charcoal, and the fragrant wafts of spices mingling in the air. It's a sensory experience that heightens anticipation and whets the appetite.
Navigating through the maze of stalls, visitors encounter a kaleidoscope of flavors. Beyond the traditional lamb skewers, adventurous eaters may discover delicacies like roasted lamb hearts, grilled lamb kidneys, and crispy lamb intestines— all prime barbecue materials. A word of caution though, while offal generally costs less than meat, waist (kidneys) is an exception that demands careful price checking. These lesser-known cuts are prized for their distinct textures and flavors, offering a glimpse into Xinjiang's rich culinary heritage beyond the ubiquitous skewers.
The Standard Pairings: Nang, Noodles, and Gavaas
For outsiders, Xinjiang barbecue portions are at least twice the size of regular grills. Compared to small skewers or regional delicacies, they're practically one to ten. However, for locals accustomed to hearty eating, rising barbecue prices make gorging a bit challenging. Thankfully, there's a variety of staples like Nang and noodles to complement the meal.
Accompanying these savory delights is Xinjiang's signature bread, the Nang (馕). This versatile flatbread is a staple at every barbecue feast, its doughy warmth complementing the smoky richness of the grilled meats perfectly. Whether plain or seasoned with sesame seeds or spices, Nang serves as the ideal vessel for soaking up meat juices and adding a comforting carb element to the meal. Imagine soft, spice-dusted Nang, warmed over charcoal and loaded with freshly baked meat skewers. The standard practice involves everyone stuffing their meat into the Nang, squeezing hard to combine lean and fatty chunks into one flavorful bite.
Yellow noodles follow a similar principle, requiring quick mixing while hot to infuse meat juices with wheat fragrance, ensuring every mouthful captures the essence. For those craving a heartier meal, yellow noodles provide an alternative base. These thick, hand-pulled noodles are robust enough to stand up to the bold flavors of Xinjiang barbecue. Tossed with succulent lamb chunks and generously seasoned, they offer a satisfying contrast to the charred skewers.
In theory, nationwide barbecue pairings default to beer, with Xinjiang showcasing its unique Deadly Wusu beer (夺命大乌苏). However, if you get the chance to dine in Xinjiang, don't miss out on the local specialty: ice-cold Gavaas. Crafted by ethnic minority vendors at night markets, it resembles regular beer in a mug but carries a subtle beer aroma.
Fresh Gavaas offers a slightly sweet entrance, distinct bubbles, and malt fragrance, supposedly blending honey and hops, proving a refreshing palate cleanser alongside barbecue. Whispering aside: while all are labeled Gavaas, those Russian liquid breads on the market taste entirely different; I'm not recommending those.
Completing the barbecue, staples, and Gavaas ensemble with common ethnic songs and dances at night markets, alongside friends sharing tales and heartfelt chats, encapsulates the perfect closure for a Xinjiang barbecue feast. For a cuisine that epitomizes Xinjiang, what better representation than its uniquely historic barbecue, distinguished by exceptional ingredients and a cultural legacy? No matter where you find yourself, the memory of Xinjiang barbecue remains a soulful return for its people.
