Hangzhou’s Rustic Restaurant ‘Datang Longyan’ and Its Ingredient Hunter, Lao Tang

[ Good Local Food ]

Jingshan, home to a world intangible cultural heritage tea ceremony, is breathtakingly beautiful. I was roaming the woods where chickens run free, so tired I could almost crow myself, when I caught sight of those ‘chicken-shaped cups’ — the very picture of poultry perfection — and I was instantly revived. If I hadn’t seen them with my own eyes, I’d have sworn this bamboo-forest chicken was drawn by AI.

Tang Yansheng (Lao Tang) vanished deep into the thick woods…

The dishes may be rustic, but the chickens must be the most beautiful. These free-range birds spend the day frolicking among tea terraces, bamboo groves, and streams, and I couldn’t help thinking, entirely inappropriately, ‘Rooster, I dream of your life.’ A silly joke, but the truly remarkable ingredients are no joke at all.

The ingredient hunter Lao Tang took me and the chef of Datang Longyan to see these chickens, and they were indeed so stunning I almost couldn’t bear to eat them.

At the start of the year, Hangzhou welcomed a new refined rustic restaurant, ‘Datang Longyan,’ which wowed diners from day one. The two partners each command half the landscape of Hangzhou’s rustic food scene. Guo Lianbao, owner of the popular Fuyuanju, is always cheerful; teaming up with Tang Yansheng of the Datang Seafood stall to open Datang Longyan has made him even happier — the place has been packed since its debut.

Whenever there’s a dinner gathering, if Guo can squeeze in, he never misses a chance to praise his ‘other half’: ‘I can’t get up as early as Old Tang — I like to sleep in. He handles a lot of the restaurant’s affairs.’

The title of ‘peak Hangzhou rustic cuisine’ hasn’t been removed from the restaurant since the day it opened.

Even the opening invitation was printed on earthy yellow paper…

Old diners in Hangzhou see them as a match made in heaven. Guo is actually the restaurant’s ‘better half’ when it comes to cooking. Lao Tang is always out and about, with a perfect excuse: ‘I’m an old man, I go sourcing ingredients at around 6 a.m.’ One minds the kitchen, the other works the fields — a seamless partnership. Fans even ‘ship’ them, wishing the food stayed as rustic as can be and that the two bosses kept getting along harmoniously while business boomed.

Their backing is equally strong: a steady stream of top-notch rustic supplies. The coop owner at Datang Longyan’s premium ingredient partner farm says those old bamboo-grove chickens are nearly impossible to catch — they flash up to the tops of bamboo stalks faster than a martial-arts heroine. Only on a snowy, moonless night, with all kinds of lures, will they tumble into a snow hollow. They’re practically heavenly immortals!

They are true woodland gourmets, nibbling on bamboo shoots, flowers, grasses, insects, and fish, with their owners often supplementing with corn. I sighed — if they’re this precious, even if their eggs aren’t stolen, those roosters’ tail feathers would end up as shuttlecock feathers…

When those handsome bamboo-chickens reach nine months of age, even if their prime is spent and they become a plate of poached chicken at Datang Longyan, I’d still cherish every bite.

Jiangnan sees many rainy days, but all I need is a bowl of steamed salted pork with that bamboo-forest chicken, a sip of golden chicken soup fragrant with chicken fat, and my whole complexion shifts from overcast to sunny.

The power of great ingredients comes straight from the land.

‘Lao Tang’ is famous for loving beautiful seafood.

In Lao Tang’s eyes, fine ingredients must have good looks. I saw it for myself: sea-caught ‘jiang baitiao’ (topmouth culter) that looked like broadswords, river perch with huge expressive eyes — only these met his standards.

I said, ‘This isn’t seafood, it’s ornamental fish.’

He gets up at 5:30 a.m. just to visit the market in Minfeng Village to look at tiny fish!

‘Thousand-year qingyu’ — known in many places as wheat-ear fish — according to an old farmer in Xiaoshan, they stay this size for a thousand years. I was a bit envious of their eat-all-you-want-never-gain physique.

Shrimp-sauce steamed thousand-year qingyu

Back to Hangzhou’s most ‘lowly’ fish, the grass carp — the fish chosen for West Lake vinegar fish. In the Hangzhou dialect, grass carp is also called ‘hun yu.’ A well-proportioned one, weighing between 600 and 650 grams, is called a ‘tiaozihuo’ (strip product). First, it refers to the ideal size — just right for a small old Hangzhou family for one meal. Second, in Hangzhou dialect, a girl with a good figure is said to have a good ‘tiaogar’ (good frame).

Times have changed — people are taller and bigger now, S and M sizes are the same. But this 1.5kg spring-water fish from the source of the Xin’an River is jet-black and shiny; wearing its scales, it looks lean, but once scaled, it’s full of firm flesh. The flesh, just barely cooked, is smooth, tender, and succulent — in Hangzhou dialect, ‘ti,’ as in crystal clear, translucent. Close your eyes and you know: it’s definitely a ‘strip product’ too.

Grass carp is actually the most water-quality-demanding fish in cooking; it naturally has a grassy smell, and achieving perfect tenderness is tricky even with nobler fish, let alone a humble grass carp.

Thanks to the renowned food critic and writer Shen Ye, I tasted a high-standard traditional Hangzhou home dish of braised fish chunks, and it was a joy!

Before opening Datang Longyan, Lao Tang had already been a rustic-ingredient hunter for a long time. Even with a 9kg big whitefish, he scans it like an X-ray and sees exactly how to cook each part to perfection.

After tasting the belly of the big whitefish at Datang Longyan, I genuinely sighed, ‘Eating this is pure luck.’

Salted and steamed Qiantang River whitefish belly

Back when ‘Lao Tang’ was still ‘Xiao Tang,’ his seafood stall ‘Datang Seafood’ at the Jinjiang seafood market was already a household name after 18 years of success. Tang Yansheng was the living signboard on that street; his stall buzzed louder the later it got — you just looked for the never-ending queue. Diners affectionately called him ‘Lao Tang.’ All year round, his trademark was a sincere, smiling face and the air of vigorous freshness that emanated from his stall. Now, Lao Tang’s restaurants have spread across Hangzhou, and his loyal fans include celebrities and gourmands. Every winter solstice, he personally makes several trips to Zhoushan to seek out the most authentic hairtail fish for his loyal customers.

Famous actress Weng Hong and Hong Kong food writer May Jie visiting Datang Seafood for line-caught hairtail

The reason Lao Tang’s seafood is a secret solace for top chefs and restaurant moguls in Hangzhou’s late nights is his love of freshness — new freshness. The other day he brought back mud-worms from the core production area of Zhanjiang, simply steamed them, and the table erupted in ‘wows’ from foodies — a level of umami that is practically living MSG.

Seaweed bubbling in a clay pot: scalding-fresh. Hard-shell shrimp baked in sea salt: dry-fresh. Clams with stinky tofu: one youthful-fresh, the other aged-fresh. Freshness that shifts capriciously, freshness that crashes like waves, freshness that leaves you tongue-tied… Diners have seen all the manifestations of Lao Tang’s mastery over freshness.

Zhoushan white crabs have become his signature.

Every table orders the ‘Upside-Down Crab,’ but few know it won Hangzhou’s 2023 Famous Dish Award — a highlight of the city’s ‘New Six Famous’ culinary project, also nicknamed ‘CCTV Upside-Down Crab.’ I asked why ‘CCTV,’ and he said one autumn nine years ago, this dish moved a CCTV reporter to tears.

I teased, ‘Was it the Maotai’s contribution?’ He laughed, saying Maotai prices have soared while dish prices haven’t budged. His upside-down crab doesn’t use roe-laden crabs but plump white crabs over 250g. It’s a dish ready in minutes, with a steaming sauce that contains huadiao wine aged at least 20 years. In just a few moments, the ocean’s sweetness rushes in — every crab is meaty with rich roe, so fresh your eyebrows might drop. The crab juices aren’t wasted; their intense umami enlivens a simple steamed egg, and first-harvest seaweed acts as ‘spring onion,’ leaving the dish tender and savory-sweet.

With the well-known host ‘A Liutou’ at Xingfu · Neighborhood Canteen

Despite his seafood business keeping him up until 4 a.m. every day and rising early to get the freshest catch, he still ‘willfully’ runs a neighborhood canteen for the community. His cooking gives the elderly a taste of what having a private chef at home might be like. Many young folk who don’t have time for proper meals quietly join in too. Whenever there’s a bit of profit, he gives back to seniors over 80 in the community as a public service.

From Datang Seafood to Qinglin Xingfu Neighborhood Canteen to Datang Longyan, having stood the tests of night-owl youths and early-rising elders, he’s built a stellar reputation for ingredients over the years. Everyone knows the well-liked ‘Lao Tang’ who takes food seriously.

Tracing fresh ingredients: beyond the sea, there are lakes, and rivers too!

The mi yu (brown croaker) gained popularity after teacher Chen Xiaoqing featured it in ‘My Culinary Guide,’ and prices shot up in Hangzhou’s markets. But Lao Tang wasn’t affected at all — he always went for the priciest kind. He shared: ‘Hangzhou has many sea mi yu, and their flesh is coarser than river mi yu.’

I said, ‘So in the past, people in Jiangsu and Zhejiang only used sea mi yu for fish balls and pounded fish noodles.’

Lao Tang: ‘Yes, steaming calls for the delicate, fatty quality of river mi yu. When the fish migrates, its time in freshwater refines the aroma. Sea mi yu often grow large; large river mi yu are very rare.’

Three-stinky braised Qiantang River mi yu

The rustic freshness of river mi yu and stinky tofu lingers on the table. A few years back, Lao Tang’s river mi yu, with its exceptionally fine flesh from the Qiantang area, made it onto CCTV. The stinky tofu he chooses is made by a family on historic Xixing Street, carrying on an intangible cultural heritage craft. The owner is the third-generation maker; his fourth-generation children sell cars and can’t carry on the tofu tradition. It must use naturally fermented brine from aged amaranth stalks — nothing like mass-produced ‘high-tech’ stinky tofu. This tofu is truly something to treasure while you can.

‘The stinky tofu is exceptionally delicate, and its flavor is more intense when cooked, unlike others doctored with additives. His relies on the old amaranth-stalk brine for completely natural fermentation.’ One bite mingles the flavors of mi yu and stinky tofu — a taste of heaven and hell in one mouthful, unforgettable.

A single mi yu can be endlessly transformed by Lao Tang — wine-braised fish maw, head soup fit for an emperor, salted fish body, stir-fried fish-bone paste… and trendy old pickled radish steamed Qiantang mi yu. He creates seafood dishes as if he carries a whole river and sea in his heart!

Recently, Lao Tang introduced a new dish: clay-oven-roasted red-fruit pomfret at Datang Longyan. Everyone who tries it calls it their ‘dream fish.’

‘Hangzhou people didn’t know this fish before; they were used to hairtail, pomfret, and wild yellow croaker. Red-fruit pomfret is basically all wild, with a special aroma and rich oil, like our Reeves’ shad. Actually, it’s quite popular in Japan, ranking much higher than pomfret or hairtail.’

Datang Longyan uses the most ancient method — roasting — to bring out the endless aftertaste of ‘may there be fish year after year.’

Food critic teacher Chen Li has been a great help to Lao Tang along the way. He says that menu design often starts with a theme, but currently ‘seasonal’ is overused and the elements that make up seasonality are somewhat lacking. Focusing on the concept of the Qiantang River, he suggests fully playing up Hangzhou’s waterside character.

He emphasizes that in spring, a representative ingredient from the Jiangsu-Zhejiang region is Wu onion, a type of amaryllis, quite common. Hangzhou actually falls within the historical Wu region, and two truly authentic Hangzhou dishes are essential in spring: onion-braised crucian carp and shredded radish crucian carp soup. Even Hangzhou-style restaurants in Taipei serve these — they carry the true character of Hangzhou cuisine.

If you source ingredients Lao Tang’s way, those crucian carp have delicate flesh without any muddy taste. The protein and fat richness of crucian carp can rival that of knife fish.

Teacher Chen also said: ‘I also thought of a presentation that’s easy for restaurants: make a rich crucian carp broth, remove all bones and meat, then blanch shredded radish and Wu onion in it — it’s bound to be far more delicious than chicken broth with radish. Besides using Wu onion for wontons, an old Hangzhou tradition is to finely chop it and stir-fry with fermented bean paste and rice. Sizzle the chopped Wu onion in oil, add the bean paste while the oil is hot, then toss in cooked rice. The aroma of the bean paste needs frying — this process releases the microbial flavor compounds.’

After deeply exploring Hangzhou cuisine, a major issue is that it doesn’t draw its supporting ingredients from the seasons and the wilds; it keeps recycling established concepts, and in pleasing people, easily forgets its own soul — just like West Lake vinegar fish, which struggles to find a new path,’ said Teacher Chen Li.

I thought, yes, a truly good West Lake vinegar fish requires not only grass carp from pristine water, or Hangzhou mullet or bream, but when water quality is limited, chefs must put in the effort to keep the fish in clean water for a week to purge any off-flavors before cooking it.

Truly delicious things are never easy.

Rustic ingredients continue their journey: is there better pork for ‘Dongpo Pork’?

Two bowls each of Xiaoshan pickled vegetable and river shrimp soup; I also got to enjoy childhood memories of Hangzhou — shredded radish oil cake and rice-steamed radish. I was thinking, we’re missing some meat. So let’s try Lao Tang’s rustic red-braised pork, selected from countless sows — a tableful of ‘rustic fare’ is the most delectable feast.

When Teacher Shen came, he tasted the ‘Dongpo Pork’ and expressed his praise with a long, drawn-out ‘Mmm~.’

One bite proved its fame — the pork skin was a full 3 centimeters thick! It turns out this ‘Chun’an flower’ pig was tracked down by Lao Tang from a thousand-acre high-mountain ecological forest at Qiandao Lake. The original breed is said to have been Hangzhou’s most expensive pork in the Republican era, surpassing lake and Huai pigs in quality.

These local flower pigs from the upper Qiantang River live in privileged conditions, raised in a 5A scenic area, looking down on their peers; in 2022 there were only 2,000 purebreds. They breathe negative oxygen ions and drink weak alkaline mountain spring water with a pH of 7.15. As I listened, again I thought: ‘Pig, I dream of your life!’

It’s said that as early as the Northern Song dynasty, when Su Dongpo served as governor of Hangzhou, he won public praise for dredging West Lake, and he was also an ambassador for pork. Hangzhou people grow up eating Dongpo pork, yet they are still moved by Datang Longyan’s flower-pig version — that gelatinous skin is irresistible.

When the pig-killing feast dishes arrived — Lao Tang’s white-braised gold-and-silver trotters, soy-pickled pig face, ‘supreme stir-fry’ — each one touched the heart. Times change, ingredients change, but the pursuit of deliciousness stays constant; Lao Tang will always be on the road…

Connoisseurs couldn’t stop their chopsticks. One fast-talking diner mumbled while chewing: ‘Lao Tang is really turning pork into seafood!’

Do you love fine ingredients?

“Life is the most precious thing.

Most people merely exist,

that is all.”

Food Bless You!

Consultant for ‘Flavorful Origins’

Host of ‘The Godlike Table’

Producer of ‘Wild China Eats’ and ‘Life Is Worth 369’