The Four Capitals and Their Gastronomic Hierarchy

During China’s Northern Song Dynasty (960–1127), the empire maintained four secondary capitals alongside its primary seat of power. While modern readers might assume these corresponded to today’s major cities, the historical reality reveals a different urban landscape. The Eastern Capital (东京) referred to Kaifeng, the Western Capital (西京) to Luoyang – both well-known facts. However, the Northern Capital (北京) of that era was located in modern-day Daming County, Hebei, while the Southern Capital (南京) stood in present-day Shangqiu, Henan.

Shangqiu occupied a position of remarkable prominence in Song-era China, ranking third in importance only to Kaifeng and Luoyang. If we were to apply contemporary urban classifications, these three cities would represent the Song equivalent of first-tier metropolises – comparable to Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou in modern China. Just as Guangzhou today enjoys fame for its culinary excellence (earning the saying “eat in Guangzhou”), Song Dynasty Shangqiu boasted an equally impressive array of snacks that could rival the capital in variety, craftsmanship, and flavor.

The Mysterious “Jiazi”: A Scholar-Official’s Obsession

Among Shangqiu’s numerous delicacies, one particular snack called “jiazi” (夹子 or 夹儿) captured the heart of the renowned statesman and poet Ouyang Xiu. Historical records reveal that during his official posting in Shangqiu, Ouyang developed such an attachment to this food that he reportedly needed to consume it daily, as if his very spirit depended on it.

This culinary delight appears to have been widespread during the Song period, available in both Shangqiu and Kaifeng. The famous Northern Song text “Dongjing Meng Hua Lu” (Dreams of Splendor of the Eastern Capital) describes the night market near Xiangguo Temple’s southern bridge, where vendors hawked various snacks including fried jiazi. By the Southern Song period, jiazi had become even more prominent in Hangzhou’s night markets. The Southern Song writer Wu Zimu’s “Meng Liang Lu” (Record of a Millet Dream) lists dozens of jiazi varieties: moth-brow jiazi, bamboo shoot and meat jiazi, fried jiazi, gold-ingot jiazi, river fish jiazi, liver jiazi, among others – plus various vegetarian versions collectively termed “assorted fried vegetarian jiazi.”

Modern attempts to identify this Song delicacy have produced conflicting theories. Some scholars suggested it resembled today’s roujiamo (Chinese hamburger), while others, noting the character “煎” (fry), proposed it as an ancestor of Kaifeng’s contemporary fried buns. However, based on extensive research, the most plausible interpretation identifies jiazi as similar to modern stuffed lotus root or eggplant slices – what we now call “ouhe” (藕盒) or “qiehe” (茄盒).

The preparation method involved cutting lotus root, eggplant, or bamboo shoots into connected slices (alternating between cutting through and leaving connected), stuffing them with fish, meat, crab roe, or vegetarian fillings, dipping them in batter to seal the openings, then either deep-frying or steaming. This created a unique textural and flavor experience where the crisp vegetable slices and rich fillings combined like musical chords – the vegetable’s freshness balancing the filling’s richness, creating what might be considered the most concise culinary triad in gastronomic history.

Dripping Cream Conch: A Misunderstood Delicacy

Another fascinating Song-era delicacy appears in the Ming Dynasty novel “Jin Ping Mei” (The Plum in the Golden Vase). In chapter 67, during a snowy day banquet, the protagonist Ximen Qing receives two boxes of pastries from a courtesan – one containing fruit-filled crispy pastries, the other “buttery conch spirals” (酥油鲍螺). The latter particularly impresses the guests, with one declaring it “melts upon entering the mouth” and claiming it must be a rare delicacy from the Western Regions.

In reality, this “buttery conch” (more accurately termed “dripping cream conch” or 滴酥鲍螺) was a common decorative pastry in Southern Song’s Hangzhou. Made from fermented and separated cream mixed with honey and sugar, it was extruded into spiral shapes resembling conch shells or abalone (in Song terminology, “鲍” referred to oysters rather than modern abalone). This treat became particularly popular during Mid-Autumn and Lantern Festivals across all social classes in Jiangnan region. The characters’ awe in “Jin Ping Mei” likely reflects their inland location’s limited exposure to Jiangnan’s culinary innovations.

The Song version of cream piping was less varied than modern cake decoration techniques, focusing primarily on spiral shapes. However, some exceptionally skilled individuals could create intricate designs including flowers, fruits, and even mythical creatures like qilin and phoenixes – demonstrating a level of artistry that would rival contemporary cake decorators.

Sugar-Frosted Jade Bees: A Case of Culinary Misidentification

The term “sugar-frosted jade bees” (糖霜玉蜂儿) appears in Southern Song writer Zhou Mi’s “Wulin Jiushi” (Old Affairs of Wulin), describing a delicacy served to Emperor Gaozong during a banquet at Prince Zhang Jun’s residence. Modern scholars initially interpreted “jade bees” as silkworm chrysalises, based on Yuan Dynasty references to chrysalises as “bees.” This led to the improbable conclusion that the dish involved candied silkworm pupae.

However, a more plausible interpretation emerges from Southern Song poet Yang Wanli’s verses comparing lotus seeds to bee larvae within their honeycomb-like pods. This poetic metaphor suggests “jade bees” actually referred to lotus seeds – making “sugar-frosted jade bees” essentially candied lotus seeds. This interpretation aligns with historical records of Kaifeng neighborhoods specializing in lotus seed processing, indicating significant demand for this ingredient in Song cuisine.

The Cultural Significance of Song Dynasty Snacks

These culinary artifacts reveal much about Song society. The specialization seen in lotus seed processing neighborhoods demonstrates advanced commercial development and division of labor. The popularity of vegetarian imitation meats (recorded in “Meng Liang Lu” with dishes like “fake roast duck” and “fake clam meat”) reflects both Buddhist influences and Song diners’ adventurous palates.

Festive foods like “huanxi tuan” (欢喜团, literally “joy balls”) – crispy rice treats with sugar syrup and tangerine peel coloring – show how Indian Buddhist traditions (originally called “mahūtaka” in Sanskrit) became sinicized into Chinese festival culture. Similarly, the concept of “inserted foods” (插食) – dishes artistically arranged with decorative elements – reveals the Song emphasis on culinary aesthetics, whether through flags on pastries or elaborate food sculptures for imperial banquets.

Legacy and Rediscovery

Many Song delicacies have disappeared or evolved beyond recognition. The “jiazi” that so captivated Ouyang Xiu survives in modified form as stuffed vegetable dishes. “Dripping cream conch” finds echoes in modern pastry decoration techniques. “Sugar-frosted jade bees” live on in candied lotus seeds, though without their poetic name.

Rediscovering these foods offers more than culinary curiosity – it provides a window into Song daily life, social structures, and aesthetic values. From Ouyang Xiu’s snack cravings to imperial banquet extravagance, these flavors tell stories of innovation, cultural exchange, and the universal human pursuit of gastronomic pleasure – proving that while dynasties rise and fall, the language of food remains eternally relatable.