A Braise That Doubles as Hotpot

Last winter while I was visiting Chengdu, some college friends and I gathered for a small reunion. The locals in our group were entrusted with finding a hidden gem restaurant—somewhere that hadn’t been hyped on social media or Chinese Yelp. We ended up at a humble eatery tucked deep in a residential block in the southern part of the city that specializes in just one dish: braised chicken with taro (yùér jī, 芋儿鸡). The restaurant accepts reservations only by phone, and you have to pre-order the amount of chicken in advance. In Sichuan’s fiercely competitive restaurant scene, this kind of exclusivity hinted that we were in for something special.

Within minutes of our arrival a big stainless steel pot had been placed before us. It was filled with braised chicken pieces plus taro and bamboo shoots, all submerged in a luscious red broth. After we devoured the chicken, the pot was simmered again, this time with chicken gizzards, blood tofu and some vegetable sides. The chicken was tender, the taro buttery, the bamboo shoots crunchy—a deeply satisfying meal for a chilly winter night in Chengdu.

The Origins of Yuer Ji

While most Chinese food fans are familiar with Sichuan’s classic spicy hotpot, the region has many alternative pots to offer, such as dry pot (gān guō, 干锅) and soup pot (tāng guō, 汤锅). Yuer ji is a  common soup pot; others include a mild, milky-white lamb soup from Jianyang (简阳羊肉汤, Jiǎngyáng yángròu tāng); a dish of braised fish (太安鱼, tàiānyú) that can either be spicy or made with pickled mustard; and a rich beef stew commonly found in Leshan known as qiàojiǎo niúròu (翘脚牛肉). These are affordable, crowd-pleasing meals Sichuan locals turn to when they want to enjoy a casual dinner with friends. Back in my college days, my friends and I frequented a chain restaurant called Juecheng Yuer Ji (绝城芋儿鸡),  a popular spot in Chengdu. 

Yuer ji (sometimes called yùér shāojī, 芋儿烧鸡) has its roots in rustic countryside cooking. Pairing chicken with starchy vegetables like potatoes or taro is a common practice in Chinese home cooking, and the combination of chicken and taro was documented as early as the Qing Dynasty in Yuan Mei’s Recipes from the Garden of Contentment (随园食单). The book History and Anecdotes of Chongqing (重庆掌故) credits restaurateur Yan Qi for popularizing this dish in the early 2000s through her brand Taoran Yuerji (陶然芋儿鸡).

The dish is a staple of jiānghú cài (江湖菜), a genre of Chongqing-style Sichuan cuisine. This culinary trend, which emerged in the 1980s, blends country-style cooking with hotpot traditions. Known for its bold mala flavors and heavy use of aromatics, jianghu cai often features fresh ingredients like freshwater fish, rabbit and chicken, which are typically served in large plates or pots, sometimes over a flame, hotpot-style. One famous example is fiery Chongqing Geleshan lazi ji (歌乐山辣子鸡). This style remains a cornerstone of Sichuan and Chongqing’s culinary identity, and its popularity and influence have spread all across China.

Tips for Making Braised Chicken With Taro at Home

While restaurant versions of yuer ji often feature a heavy hotpot base made with beef tallow, this home cooking-friendly variation delivers a sauce that’s milder but just as flavorful. It uses doubanjiang, three types of chilies and classic Chinese braising spices like gui pi, cao guo, star anise and Sichuan pepper (though it’s fine if you don’t have all of them). This combination creates layers of richness without overwhelming the palate. If you prefer a milder kick, you can easily adjust the heat by reducing the amount of chili flakes and dried chilis to suit your taste.

Handling Taro

Taro, yùtóu (芋头), is a staple root vegetable in southern China and is enjoyed in both savory and sweet dishes. In Sichuan, steamed taro, sweet potatoes and corn are often served at banquets to balance the otherwise meat-heavy dishes. Regional varieties vary in size, and the smaller ones used in yuer ji are known as baby taro or eddo. Once cooked, this taro’s creamy, buttery texture absorbs the braising liquid beautifully, and its subtle sweetness complements the hearty chicken stew.

If you haven’t cooked with taro before, you should note that handling the raw ingredient can be tricky as the skin and flesh contain a chemical compound called calcium oxalate that can irritate your skin. My easy solution is to wear a pair of kitchen gloves, or, alternatively, to boil the taro, skin-on, for 10 minutes before peeling it and adding it to the pot. (This moderates the compound’s effects.) Parboiling it this way also results in softer taro pieces.

Choosing Chicken for Yuer Ji

Traditionally, yuer ji is made with freshly butchered whole chickens, including the wings and feet. Gizzards and intestines are often cooked alongside or after the meat, reflecting the nose-to-tail philosophy seen in many Sichuan-style hotpots. 

For this recipe, I used a small corn-fed chicken for its tender meat, cutting it into bite-sized pieces with the bones included (use a cleaver!). If using a whole chicken, I recommend selecting a high-quality small bird since the meat is the star of the dish. For easier preparation, boneless chicken thighs or legs (with the skin on) work well. When I tested the boneless option in my kitchen it was delicious—especially when I used chicken stock as the base of the broth (instead of water) to enhance the flavor.

Hotpot-ify It!

This dish can easily be transformed into a hotpot just like the one I enjoyed in Chengdu. Making the dish this way is especially useful if you are serving a larger group. For the best results, you’ll want to invest in proper hotpot gear. If you don’t have it, you could opt to cook the ingredients in two batches in a regular pot (adding more broth ingredients as you go) and bring the whole thing to the table for a hotpot-style presentation. You can add chicken gizzards (if you can find them), fresh tofu, tofu skin, leafy greens, mushrooms or any of your favorite hotpot ingredients to the recipe to extend the meal and make the most of the tasty broth. 

For more spice-heavy chicken recipes, check out Taylor’s Chongqing Chicken Like It’s Made in Chongqing and Mouthwatering Chicken (Koushuiji, 口水鸡) and Kathy’s Sichuan Braised Chicken With Chestnut + Shiitake (Banli Shaoji, 板栗烧鸡).