Explore Beijing / How to Read a Chinese Menu in Beijing: Characters, Photos and Dianping
How to Read a Chinese Menu in Beijing: Characters, Photos and Dianping
Chinese dish names are mostly literal. Learn the section headers, the cooking verbs and the heat words, and you can order confidently at almost any Beijing restaurant — plus how to use Dianping photos and QR-code ordering to skip the guesswork.
13 min read · KOULING's Beijing Travel Guide
Beijing's best meals are rarely served in restaurants with English menus. The places locals queue for — a noodle shop down a hutong, a duck house with a 40-minute wait, a Sichuan canteen with a one-page laminated menu — usually list dishes in Chinese only, and increasingly have no paper menu at all, just a QR sticker on the table. That is not a language barrier so much as a literacy problem, and it is one you can fix in about fifteen minutes. Chinese dish names are largely literal: a cooking method, a main ingredient, and often a flavour word. Learn a dozen characters and you can look at a menu and know roughly what will arrive, how hot it will be, and roughly what it will cost. This guide covers how a menu is laid out, the characters that carry the most information, how to use Dianping's photos and dish rankings instead of translating word by word, how QR ordering actually works, and how many dishes to order for your table.
How a Chinese Menu Is Laid Out
Menus are organised by course type, not alphabetically or by ingredient. Find the section header and you have already narrowed a dish down enormously. In a sit-down Beijing restaurant the headers are usually a bold or coloured row on a paper menu, or tabs at the top of the QR menu.
凉菜 / 冷盘 (liángcài / lěngpán) — cold dishes — Served first, room temperature, usually vinegary, garlicky or sesame-based. Portions are small and they arrive within minutes, which makes them useful when you are starving.
热菜 (rècài) — hot dishes — The main event and by far the longest section: stir-fries, braises, roasts. Roughly 90% of your order will come from here.
素菜 (sùcài) — vegetable dishes — Not automatically vegetarian in the Western sense. Look out for 肉末 (minced pork) or dishes cooked in lard, and ask if it matters to you.
海鲜 (hǎixiān) — seafood — Often priced by weight rather than by portion. This is the single biggest source of bill shock on a Chinese menu — confirm the price before you order.
汤 / 羹 (tāng / gēng) — soup / thick soup — In Beijing soup usually arrives with the meal rather than before it. One bowl for the table to share is normal.
主食 (zhǔshí) — staples — Rice, noodles, dumplings, buns. This is the carbohydrate course and it comes last, not first. Do not count a 主食 as one of your dishes.
酒水 / 饮料 (jiǔshuǐ / yǐnliào) — drinks — Beer, baijiu, juice, tea. Ordinary tea is often poured automatically and is free or nearly free; bottled drinks are charged.
招牌菜 / 特色菜 (zhāopáicài / tèsècài) — signature dishes — If you read nothing else on the menu, read this row. It is the restaurant's own shortlist and statistically the safest first order in the building.
The Cooking Verb Comes First
Most dish names follow the pattern cooking method + main ingredient, sometimes with a flavour word in front. The method tells you the texture and how heavy the dish will be, which is usually more useful than a precise translation of the ingredient.
炒 (chǎo) — stir-fried — The default method: fast, high heat, a little oil. 清炒 (qīngchǎo) means stir-fried plainly with minimal seasoning.
爆 (bào) — flash-fried at very high heat — Dry, intense, slightly smoky. Usually a sign of a confident kitchen.
炸 (zhá) — deep-fried — Crispy and rich. 软炸 is a light batter, 干炸 is drier and harder.
煎 (jiān) — pan-fried — Crisp on one or two sides, softer inside. Dumplings cooked this way are 煎饺.
烤 (kǎo) — roasted or grilled — Skewers (烤串), Peking duck (烤鸭), roast lamb. Dry heat, no sauce.
蒸 (zhēng) — steamed — Clean, mild, no added oil. The safest choice if you want something gentle or are eating after a few heavy days.
红烧 (hóngshāo) — red-braised — Braised in soy sauce and sugar until dark and glossy, with a slightly sweet finish. 红烧肉 (pork belly) is the classic.
干煸 (gānbiān) — dry-fried until blistered — Concentrated, oily and usually spicy.
水煮 (shuǐzhǔ) — literally boiled — Despite the name, the dish is poached in chilli oil under a layer of dried chillies. One of the hottest things on a Sichuan menu.
白灼 (báizhuó) — blanched — Plain and clean, served with a light dipping sauce.
凉拌 / 拌 (liángbàn / bàn) — cold-tossed — Mixed with vinegar, garlic and sesame oil, served chilled.
涮 (shuàn) — dip-boiled at the table — Hotpot. Raw ingredients arrive and you cook them yourself in the pot.
煲 (bāo) — clay pot — Served bubbling in the vessel it was cooked in; holds its heat for a long time.
Flavour and Heat Words
These characters usually sit at the front or the end of a dish name and tell you what you are in for. 辣 is the one to memorise first.
辣 (là) — spicy — One chilli symbol printed next to a dish is a warning; two or three is a commitment.
微辣 / 中辣 / 特辣 (wēilà / zhōnglà / tèlà) — mild / medium / extra hot — Mild in a Sichuan restaurant is still noticeably hot by Western standards. Ask, do not assume.
麻辣 (málà) — numbing and spicy — Sichuan peppercorn. Your mouth will tingle and go slightly numb. It is not an allergic reaction, it is the pepper, and it fades in a few minutes.
酸辣 (suānlà) — sour and spicy — Vinegar and white pepper. 酸辣汤 (hot and sour soup) and 酸辣粉 (sour-spicy noodles) are the two you will see constantly.
糖醋 (tángcù) — sweet and sour — Sugar and black vinegar in a glossy sauce. Usually mild and popular with children.
蒜香 / 蒜蓉 (suànxiāng / suànróng) — garlic — Savoury, safe, and almost never spicy.
酱香 / 豆瓣 (jiàngxiāng / dòubàn) — fermented bean paste — Salty, deep, umami. Can be spicy depending on the paste used.
清淡 (qīngdàn) — mild and clean — The word to look for when you have had enough rich food.
香酥 (xiāngsū) — fragrant and crisp — Fried until crunchy, usually boneless and easy to eat.
Proteins, and the Dishes Whose Names Lie
Once you know the method and the flavour, you only need the main ingredient — plus a short list of famous dishes whose names describe something that is not actually in them.
鸡 / 牛 / 羊 / 猪 / 鱼 / 虾 (jī / niú / yáng / zhū / yú / xiā) — Chicken / beef / lamb / pork / fish / shrimp. Note that 肉 (ròu) on its own almost always means pork unless another animal is named.
豆腐 / 蛋 / 青菜 (dòufu / dàn / qīngcài) — Tofu / egg / greens. 青菜 is a generic term for seasonal green vegetables, so the actual vegetable may change from day to day.
鱼香肉丝 (yúxiāng ròusī) — fish-fragrant pork — There is no fish. It is a garlic, ginger and sweet-sour sauce over shredded pork. Mildly spicy.
蚂蚁上树 (máyǐ shàng shù) — ants climbing a tree — Glass noodles with minced pork. No ants; the flecks of pork are the ants.
夫妻肺片 (fūqī fèipiàn) — husband and wife lung slices — Cold sliced beef and offal in chilli oil. Genuinely contains offal, and genuinely spicy.
狮子头 (shīzi tóu) — lion's head — A large, soft braised pork meatball. Nothing exotic at all.
虎皮青椒 (hǔpí qīngjiāo) — tiger-skin peppers — Green peppers blistered in a hot dry pan until the skin streaks.
地三鲜 (dìsānxiān) — three treasures of the earth — Potato, aubergine and green pepper, fried then braised. A reliable vegetarian-ish order.
红烧肉 (hóngshāo ròu) — red-braised pork belly — Sweet, dark, meltingly soft. Universally liked and a safe first order.
The Price Tells You What You Are Ordering
If you can read nothing else on the page, read the numbers. Chinese menus print a price beside every dish, and the price band alone tells you what kind of thing it is.
Roughly ¥10–25 — Snacks, cold dishes, a bowl of noodles, a portion of dumplings. Breakfast and street food live here.
Roughly ¥30–60 — A standard main dish at an ordinary neighbourhood restaurant. Most of your order will sit in this band.
¥80 and up — Seafood, whole fish, signature roasts, or anything sold by weight. Expect to be asked to confirm before the kitchen starts.
时价 (shíjià) or 斤 (jīn) — Market price, or priced per 500g. Always ask first: 多少钱一份？(duōshǎo qián yī fèn?) Never order a 时价 dish in silence.
人均 (rénjūn) on Dianping — Average spend per person. The fastest way to know whether a place is a ¥40 lunch or a ¥400 dinner before you walk in.
Staples are charged separately — 米饭, a bowl of rice, is typically a few yuan per person at neighbourhood restaurants [出行前请核实]. It is not included in the price of your dishes.
Use the Photos, Not the Translation
Translating a menu character by character is slow, and it regularly produces nonsense — you do not want to discover what ants climbing a tree means by ordering it. The faster route is to let other diners' photos do the work. Dianping (大众点评) is China's restaurant review platform, and in practice it functions as the illustrated menu for almost every restaurant in Beijing.
Tap 推荐菜 / Top dishes on the restaurant page — Dianping ranks dishes by how often reviewers mention them. Order two of the top three and you will rarely go wrong.
Look at diner-uploaded photos, not the restaurant's — Real customers' pictures, usually sortable by most recent. This also shows you the actual portion size.
Check 人均 before you commit — The average spend per head is shown on every listing. It sets expectations better than any star rating.
Search 必吃榜 (Must-Eat List) — Dianping's annual curated ranking for the city. A gold badge on a listing is a strong signal, and it covers cheap noodle shops as well as expensive ones.
Read the rating with the review count — Around 4.5 and above with a large number of reviews is a safe bet; below roughly 4.0 is a warning sign. A 4.8 with eleven reviews means nothing.
Screenshot and translate what is left — For names you still cannot read, screenshot and run it through a camera translator, or the scan-translate built into WeChat and Alipay.
Do not rely on Dianping's English mode — Many versions have an English language option under Profile, then Settings, then Language, but it appears inconsistently and dish names and reviews stay Chinese either way.
Treat photos as a hint, not a promise — Some listings use stock images or photos from a different branch. The dish will look broadly like the picture, not exactly.
The QR Code on the Table: How Ordering Actually Works
Paper menus are disappearing. In most Beijing restaurants you sit down, scan the QR sticker on the table with WeChat or Alipay, and order from a mini-program that opens inside the app. It is faster than flagging down a waiter and it shows prices and photos.
Scan, tick, submit — The mini-program shows the full menu with prices and usually photos. Tick what you want and hit the order button; it goes straight to the kitchen.
You can add dishes mid-meal — Most systems let you reopen the same order and add more. Useful once you have seen how large the portions actually are.
Pay at the end, in the app or at the counter — Settling through the same mini-program with a card linked in WeChat Pay or Alipay works at most places. Keep a little cash as backup.
If the QR menu is Chinese-only — Screenshot the screen and translate it, or fall back on the 推荐菜 list you pulled from Dianping and search those dish names in the app.
Ask for a paper menu anyway — 菜单 (càidān) will get you one at chains and tourist-facing restaurants; small independent places increasingly do not have one to give.
When the technology fails, point — If the mini-program will not load, call the waiter over and point at the menu, or at what the next table is eating. Pointing is completely normal here.
How Much to Order
Chinese meals are shared: dishes land in the middle of the table and everyone eats from them, often off a rotating tray. That changes the arithmetic, and first-timers almost always over-order.
One dish per person, plus one for the table — Two people: two dishes, and a third only if you are very hungry. Four people: four to five dishes.
Staples are added on top of that — Rice, noodles or dumplings come in addition to the dish count, not instead of it. One bowl of rice per person, or one noodle dish for every two or three.
Spread the order across categories — One meat, one vegetable, one mild thing. Three variations on stir-fried beef makes for a monotonous table.
One soup for the table — It is shared, not served individually.
Under-order deliberately — Portions in northern Chinese restaurants are large. You can always add a dish ten minutes in; you cannot un-order one.
Solo diners: one dish plus a staple — That is a completely normal meal for one person here. Nobody will find it odd.
Five Phrases That Do Most of the Work
You do not need to speak Mandarin to order well. You need these five, and a willingness to point.
有什么推荐吗？(yǒu shénme tuījiàn ma?) — What do you recommend? Locals ask this constantly, and staff will usually point at the signature dishes.
这个辣吗？(zhège là ma?) — Is this spicy? Ask while pointing at the menu line, before you order.
微辣 / 不要辣 (wēilà / bú yào là) — Mild, please / no spice, please. Say it when you order, not when the dish arrives.
来一份… (lái yī fèn…) — One portion of…, followed by the dish name. Point at the menu as you say it.
买单 (mǎidān) — The bill, please. At many places you can also settle in the QR menu instead.
A Two-Minute Routine That Works Every Time
Before you sit down — Check 人均 on Dianping so you know the price bracket before you are handed a menu.
First two minutes — Find the 招牌菜 row and pick one thing from it. That is your anchor dish.
Then fill three gaps — One vegetable (search for 青菜), one mild dish (look for 蒸 or 清淡), and one thing whose name you recognised outright.
Confirm any weight-based price — Anything marked 时价 or sold per 斤, ask the price out loud before ordering.
Add the staple last — 米饭 or noodles, one per person or one for two. Ordering it at the end keeps it hot.
Screenshot as you go — Your translated order, the dish names you liked, and the restaurant name in Chinese so you can find it again or show a taxi driver.
When all else fails, point at another table — It works, it is not rude, and staff are used to it.
