The centrepiece of the Peking stew is the traditional copper pot, which is fired with charcoal. This old-fashioned heating method is irreplaceable for its even heat and the subtle smoke it adds to the dining experience. The broth is deliberately kept simple, usually just water with a few slices of ginger and spring onions, so that the quality of the mutton takes centre stage. The hand-cut lamb is the soul of this dish and the preparation of the meat is an art in itself. Each slice is as thin as a single sheet of paper, revealing its intricate marbling.
A quick dip in the bubbling broth cooks the meat to perfection in seconds, leaving it tender, juicy and full of natural flavour. Choosing the right lamb is equally important; the most prized meat comes from young lambs raised on the lush pastures of Inner Mongolia, especially the hind leg, which is tender and free of any gamey flavour.
The origins of Beijing stew can be traced back to the Mongolian steppes at the time of the Yuan Dynasty. Legend has it that Genghis Khan's troops, who were constantly on the move, needed quick yet nutritious meals. Thin slices of mutton were briefly boiled in water, which kept them tender and fresh. As this method of preparation spread to south-central China, it was gradually refined and honed, eventually becoming a typical delicacy in the capital.
In the Qing dynasty, this type of stew earned a place on imperial tables and was a symbol of sophistication and local pride. Lao She, the famous Chinese writer, even captured the essence of Beijing stew in his works, immortalising it as an essential element of the city's identity.