Putting on fat
At Donglaishun, the most representative autumn combination remains simple: clear-broth copper hotpot, hand-cut mutton, autumn cabbage and frozen tofu.
The restaurant's hand-cutting technique is part of a national intangible cultural heritage tradition. The mutton is cut to a particular thickness and folded into neat slices, with different cuts offering different textures and fat content.
Chen recommends hand-cut fresh mutton for the autumn table, especially upper-shoulder cuts, which balance lean meat and marbling. Tripe, he says, is another old Beijing favorite.
And then there is sweet-and-sour garlic.
"It isn't meat, but it is an important part of the meal," Chen says, explaining that its sweet-and-sour flavor helps offset the richness of the mutton.
The same principle applies to the side ingredients. Cabbage adds sweetness, while frozen tofu absorbs the broth, adding a different texture and a plant-based element to a meal dominated by meat.
Consumers' understanding of tieqiubiao has shifted, Chen says.
Increasingly, they associate it with eating according to the season, moderate nourishment and the emotional value of sharing a meal, rather than simply eating as much rich food as possible.
"People care more about ingredient quality, nutritional balance, the experience of eating together and the traditions behind the food," he says.
Diners may still order a full copper-pot meal for a family gathering, Chen says, but they are also more conscious of portion size and the setting.
Donglaishun has responded with smaller, more casual ways of eating mutton, including grilled mutton burgers and halal hot dogs. The copper pot remains the classic experience, but diners do not have to wait for a large family gathering to satisfy an autumn craving for mutton.
For Chen, the key is to keep the food tied to the season while letting the meal fit contemporary tastes. "Eating according to the season starts with choosing ingredients that are right for that time of year. Then you consider the festival setting and the tastes of today's diners."
The cooking techniques can remain traditional, he says, while combinations and portions change.
At Fuhuazhai Chinese Pastry Shop, Zhao Guangyou is interested in bobo, a word that has largely disappeared from younger consumers' vocabulary.
The term once referred broadly to flour-based foods and pastries in northern Chinese food culture. In Beijing, it could encompass a wide range of handmade pastries served in palace households and ordinary homes.
"Bobo was a broad category," Zhao says.
He says bobo once covered a much wider range of pastries on the Mid-Autumn table than the mooncakes most consumers associate with the festival today.
Zhao says palace households once had tables piled with bobo, while ordinary families might use pastry boxes and poorer households might wrap a few pieces in paper.
Fuhuazhai has restored nearly 30 varieties of traditional Manchu-Han pastries from the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911) culinary tradition. Among them are a traditional milk cake and a flaky pastry filled with chestnut paste and rose jam.
Some pastries, rooted in palace traditions or classical literary references, are better remembered today than commonly tasted.
