Guide · Sichuan Flavors
For anyone searching "how to make liangban pork", "what cut for garlic white pork" or "what is fuzhi soy sauce": how one rump cut travels from a cold-water pot to a bowl of red oil.
Liangban pork is the first cold dish on a Sichuan table: a whole cut of pork poached in plain water, cooled, sliced into thin wide sheets, and tossed just before eating with chili oil, fuzhi soy sauce and garlic. It belongs to the same family as Lizhuang white pork and suanni bairou — restaurants call it garlic white pork; small-town luwei shops simply call it liangban pork. It anchors a bowl of rice, a bottle of baijiu or a pot of summer congee. Sichuan people say white pork in summer, twice-cooked pork in winter — same cut, different seasons, different dishes.
There is no second chance with liangban pork: the meat is poached the same day, sliced to order, and dressed at the last minute. Peak texture lasts two or three hours after tossing. That is why locals judge a luwei shop by ordering this first — a shop that dares to slice and toss it in front of you rarely gets the basics wrong.
After the butcher removes the ring of meat at the tail root, the next cut toward the hind leg is the erdao zuodun — half fat, half lean in clean layers: the first cut is too fatty, the second cut is about 40% fat, 60% lean — just right. It poaches up juicy and slices thin without falling apart.
Pick skin-on hind leg with even fat-lean layers; if leg feels too lean, fall back to skin-on shoulder or collar. Two hard rules: skin on, and distinct layers — the skin is part of the texture, and without it the dish loses its soul.
Start in cold water with ginger, scallion, Sichuan pepper and cooking wine; simmer 25-30 minutes until 80-90% done, then turn off the heat and let the meat steep in its own broth for about 10 minutes — it finishes gently and keeps its juices. Fish it out fully boiled and the surface dries and toughens; steeped, the lean stays silky.
Let the meat rest until warm to the touch, about 40°C. Too hot and slices tear; fully cold and the fat and lean part ways. Slice thin and wide across the grain — the wider the slice, the more dressing it carries, hence the nickname "big-blade white pork". Short slices are fine at home, but keep them thin.
The base note is fuzhi soy sauce: light soy simmered with dark soy, brown sugar and water until syrupy; restaurant versions first simmer tsaoko, star anise and bay in water, then add soy and sugar so the spice is "replicated" into the sauce. Salty-sweet and glossy, it makes flavor cling to every slice — the same base used in Zhong dumplings. Home version: 3 tbsp light soy, 1 tbsp dark soy, 2 tbsp brown sugar, 2 tbsp water, reduce.
For chili oil, toast snipped dried chilies with Sichuan pepper until dry and fragrant (never burnt), add sesame, cool and crush; heat rapeseed oil until it just smokes, cool slightly, and pour over the flakes in batches. A dash of peanut or sesame oil rounds it out — but keep it light, or it steals the show.
Garlic is the signature of white pork — hence the name suanni bairou. Smash the cloves first, then pound to a rough paste to release the juice; don't over-puree or it stales fast. Add vinegar at a third to a half of the soy volume to cut the richness; the old wisdom says summer cold dishes carry extra garlic for a reason.
Line the plate with cucumber ribbons, lay the slices on top, and pour over the dressing: fuzhi soy + chili oil + garlic + a little vinegar, sesame oil and sugar — a spoonful of the poaching broth is the pro move. Toss gently and quickly so every slice shines red without breaking. Finish with scallion or crispy peas.
Peak within two or three hours of tossing. With rice it's a weekday staple, with baijiu it's a feast, with mung-bean congee it's a Sichuan summer. Refrigerated it keeps to the next day — re-toss with a spoon of fresh chili oil before serving.
In the Sichuan countryside, a cut of white pork once came with ceremony: the whole piece was poached, set under the household shrine as an offering to the ancestors, and only then sliced for the family — elders first. A 1974 Sichuan cookbook lists just three seasonings for garlic white pork — garlic, red soy sauce, chili oil — and half a century later that triangle still stands. Simple as it looks, this plate is the entry exam of Sichuan seasoning: understand it, and you understand the cold-tossed half of the cuisine.
Pengshan's street market runs on even-numbered days, and liangban pork is the luwei stall's best seller: the master slices it paper-thin to order, chili oil goes on, garlic gets pounded, and the queue walks away eating. On Guanbao Road in Gongyi Town, a 20-year-old luwei shop poaches and slices it fresh every morning — go late and you may find the "sold out" sign. For the peak bite, go in the morning.
For the ready-made version: Gongyi Guoshi Luwei (188 Guanbao Road, Gongyi Town) tosses Liangban Pork to order every day — two-knife rump pork and their own chili oil, 20 years running.
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Technique notes compiled from public recipes and veteran Sichuan chefs; every kitchen seasons to its own taste.