So You Like Your meat rare?

The clichéd saying that “the Cantonese will eat anything with legs that isn't a table,” often attributed to an ancient Chinese source but equally likely to have originated with Britain's Prince Philip, is, despite its xenophobic overtones, loosely rooted in fact. Anyone who roamed the streets of Guangzhou in the late 1990s and early 2000s, as I did, couldn't fail to notice the menageries of live, caged animals, from caimans to owls, that once graced the stoops outside local restaurants to entice intrepid punters.

The erstwhile appeal of exotic meats stemmed not from their flavor, but simply their rarity. When the Kangxi Emperor threw a lavish birthday banquet showcasing a menu of “mountain treasures” featuring such delicacies as ape lips and leopard fetuses, it was expense and ostentation that was center stage – contemporary sources come up short in describing how these oddities actually tasted (I suspect the secret was in the sauce). Camel hump (a favorite of the Qianlong Emperor) is said to be bland and fatty, bear paw (which Mencius loved) oily and, unless cooked for a very long time, tough. But these oddities were hard to get, and challenging to cook, and thus prized above more commonplace, if tasty, comestibles.

Nowadays, a combination of environmental and animal rights activism as well as seismic shifts in gastronomic priorities has consigned the consumption of exotic and rare wild animals to the fringes. Just as Europeans lost interest in feasting on roast peacock (tough) or swan (fishy) – in the end, your average Chinese foodie would prefer the chicken, thank you very much.

That said, the sheer range of meats (and, indeed, plant life) consumed regularly by the average Chinese gastronome still boggles narrow Western palates.

Here, then, is a pocket guide to three “must tries” when it comes to exotic meats still widely available in China, and, to balance them out, three widely-enjoyed delicacies that are, in my opinion, best avoided.

Must try:

Sea cucumber – the yielding, unctuous texture of this shore-dwelling mollusc soaks up well-prepared sauces beautifully. Chef Dong, founder of the eponymous Beijing-based chain restaurant, has come up with a smoky, braised baby onion glaze for sea cucumber that is truly ambrosial.

Snake – a tender, lean cross between chicken and squid and with a slightly earthy, sweet flavor, the best snake meat is prepared in Hunan where the whole, filleted snake is fried up with oily hot peppers and Chinese chives into a truly fingerlicking feast.

Bee larvae – a Yunnanese speciality, these rich, buttery little beasts are heavenly when deep-fried and served with a delicate sprinkling of sea salt and powdered sugar.

Best avoided:

Bird's nest – flavorless shreds of overpriced mucus stirred through anything from saffron broth to almond milk, the reputation of bird's nest as a natural beauty treatment does little to comfort the epicurean searching in vain for a dining experience to justify the astronomical price tag.

Shark's fin – even looking past the cruel practice of finning live sharks, the fact that rice vermicelli can be used interchangeably with this tasteless, stringy vehicle for seasonings is enough to justify the ban on its consumption in the Chinese mainland.

Silkworm pupae – these black, swollen grubs concealed in a shell reminiscent of a decayed armadillo have an unpalatable, oleaginous texture and bitter, oppressive aroma that only serves to highlight the futility of eating an animal far better suited to sericulture than the dining table.