A Scholar’s Retirement Dream: Ouyang Xiu’s Crab Paradise

The great Song Dynasty polymath Ouyang Xiu (1007–1072) was many things—a statesman, historian, and poet—but few know him as passionately as he knew himself: a devoted crab enthusiast. In a letter to his eldest son Ouyang Fa, written before retiring from public service, he declared, “The pork and mutton in Fuyang (then called Yingzhou) may not compare to the capital’s tenderness, but the crabs from West Lake there are far superior to anything sold in the markets of Kaifeng—and far cheaper! In my twilight years, I shall move to Fuyang for this very reason.”

True to his word, Ouyang Xiu purchased land by Fuyang’s West Lake, built a home, and spent his days savoring crabs with wine—a lifestyle so idyllic it reportedly inspired envy in his younger contemporary, Su Shi (better known as Su Dongpo).

Su Dongpo and the Art of Crab Appreciation

Su Shi (1037–1101), the legendary poet-gourmet, immortalized his love for crab in Rhapsody of the Glutton (Lao Tao Fu). Among his six favorite delicacies, two featured crab prominently:
– “Chewing the twin claws frosted by autumn”—fresh crab claws at peak season.
– “Crabs barely cooked in wine lees”—a nod to drunken crab, a fermented delicacy still popular today.

His other cravings—from pork neck to steamed lamb—paled beside these crustacean delights. Yet neither Ouyang nor Su held the title of the Song Dynasty’s most extreme crab aficionado.

The Ultimate Crab Devotee: Qian Kun’s Unconventional Career Demand

That honor belonged to Qian Kun, a minor official from Hangzhou and descendant of the Wuyue Kingdom’s royal family. When asked by the emperor where he wished to serve after passing the imperial exams, Qian made an unprecedented request: “Any post will do, so long as there are crabs and no vice-prefect” (from Xianchun Lin’an Gazetteer).

His reasoning? Vice-prefects (tongpan) held veto power over local administrators, and Qian prioritized unfettered crab access over bureaucratic freedom. This anecdote reveals how deeply crab culture permeated elite lifestyles—and how it could even shape career choices.

Crab Mania in Song Society: From Markets to Medicine

Beyond the literati, crabs captivated all levels of Song society:
– Medical Quirks: Records of the Listener (Yijian Zhi) documented a Zhejiang doctor’s elderly mother who consumed “dozens daily” during crab season, storing them in jars and cooking whichever climbed out first. Her lifetime consumption, the text notes, could form “a mountain of shells.”
– Culinary Entrepreneurs: A Jiangsu painter supplemented his income by selling expertly prepared crabs—a testament to the dish’s commercial appeal.
– Urban Crab Economy: Kaifeng’s Pan Tower market sold crabs year-round (Dream Pool Essays), while Hangzhou’s vendors formed a “Crab Guild” (Old Affairs of Wulin), highlighting robust demand.

When Crabs Were Alien: Cultural Shock in the Northwest

Not all Song subjects shared this enthusiasm. Scientist Shen Kuo (1031–1095) recorded in Dream Pool Essays that in crab-less Shaanxi, one wealthy family displayed a dried specimen as a curiosity. Neighbors initially fled, mistaking it for a monster, then later revered it as a talisman against evil spirits—hanging it on doors to protect children. This stark cultural divide underscored how regional availability shaped perceptions of food.

The Extravagance of Crab Buns: A Song Dynasty Luxury

Song cuisine’s pinnacle of crab indulgence was the crab roe bun (xiehuang baozi), mentioned in Old Affairs of Wulin. A staggering anecdote from The Awakened Scholar’s Notes (Duxing Zazhi) reveals:
– Chancellor Cai Jing once hosted a banquet serving these buns to hundreds.
– The cost? 1,300 strings of cash—equivalent to 30 million RMB today, based on contemporary rice prices.

Why so expensive? Unlike modern versions adulterated with duck egg yolk, Song recipes used 30 crabs per four buns (Household Essentials), making them a true luxury.

Legacy: From Medieval Delicacy to Modern Tables

The Song Dynasty’s crab obsession birthed enduring traditions:
– Drunken Crab: Still a Jiangnan specialty.
– Crab Guilds: Precursors to today’s seafood trade associations.
– Literary Influence: Ouyang and Su’s writings remain touchstones for food historians.

Even Qian Kun’s bureaucratic quip finds echoes in modern workplace humor about prioritizing personal passions. As contemporary foodies seek authentic xiehuang baozi in Shanghai or Yangzhou, they partake in a gourmet legacy that—much like Ouyang Xiu gazing at West Lake—bridges centuries through the simple joy of perfectly cooked crab.